Dearest reader,
This foolsletter is a bit of a confessional.
I’m writing today to let you know that I’m guilty.
I believe that I’ve misrepresented myself to you. My crime is one of omission.
I could have behaved differently.
I wrote recently about falling off a horse and how I valiantly fought on through the haze of pain and painkillers to show up for other people. Most questioned what caused Cody to send me flying. Few have asked what my role was.
The day I fell, there were other factors. I didn’t want to go to the barn. I didn’t want to ride. I could have stayed home. I could have changed my mindset and gone to the barn positive.
I really didn’t want to even groom my steed.1 Upon arrival, I was informed that Eddie, my regular ride, might not be the creature to hang out with for the reindeer games we’d be playing.
The lesson was Christmas themed and involved a series of gentle, light tasks through a course that may have spooked Eddie. Instead, I was asked to spend the hour mounted on Cod…
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