What's that saying? You have to get back on the horse that threw you?
Well I was thinking about that, and I recall a time when I was about 6 or 7 years old. I was at my dad's sister's house way down in the country. It was the first time I ever got on a horse. Actually it may have been a donkey or a mule, or jack ass, I'm not really sure. Anyway, I wasn't actually "riding" it, it was more like I was just sitting on its back. My dad may have held the reigns and walked it a few feet. Well, whatever the situation, the damn thing threw me. Most of me landed with a thud on the hard dirt, but the soft part of skin on the inside of my knee landed directly on a barbed wire fence. The wire impaled me and I had a scar there for years. To make matters worse, I think the beast laughed at me afterward.
Not only was this my first encounter with asses and barbed wire, but this also happened to be the same day I touched an electric fence. I knew then, I was not meant for the country.
I believe I've only been on a horse two more times in my life since then. Both times as a young adult. For the record, I did NOT get back on the horse that threw me. Maybe this was a bad thing. Maybe that's why I have so much anxiety when something goes wrong today. Maybe if I'd gotten back on the horse I'd be more brave? Or maybe the damn thing would have bucked me again...hard to say.
Way To Go, Patriots
16 hours ago