Dear Future Me,
You’re going to be better, right? Than I am right now? Please drop me a line and let me know it’s all going to be okay.
Dear Earlier Me,
You should have seen us. Serene and, is it placid? Better than placid because we’re vigorous and right there. But when the moment turned–there are an infinite number of these moments–we didn’t turn too. For example, when we were riding Gus, maybe the fifth time when we were both becoming comfortable with each other, he skittered sideways from the poles that had been there all week. Before, we might have bent his head around, spinning to a stop, gasping through what might have been. Running the multitudes of bucks and bolts and falls and injuries before the spook had its second step. Instead, we added leg. Instead, we moved with him. Instead, we danced the diagonal, turning the unexpected energy into poetry–a leap into the future and harmony. An embrace and shaping that became beauty. You should have seen us, relinquishing at least enough control to learn how to soar.