sweet the sting

I was riding Synara once, bareback in the dark, through the forest. I felt good and wild and one with her. I trusted completely in my animal and the trail under us that we'd been on over and again.

But something had happened since my last daylight ride and I wasn't expecting a thing that was likely to happen in the forest. A tree had fallen across our path.

Synara passed under the tree with no problem, but I, atop her back, was hit with it right in the gut. Before my mind had time to recognize what had happened, I found myself on the ground with the wind knocked out of me. Which is exactly what landing in Wellington today was like.

A thousand thoughts are swirling in and out of my consciousness. None of them are entirely helpful.

The general theme though, is clear. I did this. With conscious and unconscious decisions and actions and omissions, I brought myself here. This is a self-inflicted wound.

Oooo. Bad girl.

What did I promise the honeybees? How appropriate that the Melissae wear veils.

So, ok.

I hear you.

I hear you, Melissa. The way out is through. God I hope that's right.