On re-learning to ride and The Second Coming

I’ve been trying hard to relax at the same time as asking Jigs to collect with my seat and light hands. It’s hard. I concentrate on one thing and the others fall apart. My hands are light but my legs get out of position. Or my seat is too far back, my spine arches awkwardly.

A line from Yeats surfaces to my consciousness, “things fall apart; the center cannot hold.”

I wonder what this feels like to Jigs?

I hear him sigh. I try again.

For one moment, I relax. I FEEL him step under. His back comes up and meets my seat. His head flexes at his poll. He is round for one step, two, and three… My leg slips back. We lose it.

We had it for a moment. No pulley reins- just seat and hands.

“Good boy,” I pat his neck energetically.

Deep breath, breathe I remind myself. We can do this.

Jigs sighs again.


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