When a horse is either excited or nervous, you can tell. They prance, each step springing upwards more than outwards, nostrils flared, neck arched, tail high, hind-quarters primed for action. The distinction between excitement and anxiety, like for us, is more about context than physiology, so you can’t necessarily tell the difference unless you have some insider knowledge, but either way, they look impressive. Like a tuned-in, turned-up vessel of Nature’s power. To see a horse keyed up like that is often to see it at its most beautiful, and enough to inspire at least some element of awe.
So, why is it then, when I’m excited and I prance down the street, I just look crazy? No-one’s looking at me thinking ‘my God, what a divine creature!’, they’re just giving me the side-eye.
I’ll be honest; I’m a bit disappointed by my life at the moment. I thought something exciting would have happened by now. I like exciting things. Bolts from the blue. Severe weather warnings and any halts to business as usual.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, we had the pandemic. Yeah, yeah, yeah, careful what you wish for. I’ve been wishing for exciting things ever since I learned to wish; you’re not gonna stop me now.
I know I can make exciting things happen. And I intend to. But it’s not the same. I want something to happen to me. I want something to happen for me. I want something to just breeze into my life with no warning and turn everything a little bit upside down.
Come on already! What’s taking so long?
I’m going to have to be careful, because I’m getting too many ideas. Whenever this happens, I risk disappearing into a soup of half-started projects, entangled in competing priorities and counter-productive overexcitement. I risk making bad decisions. I risk losing what I’ve already built.
And when I read that back, it sounds pretty serious. It sounds like some pretty maladaptive impulsivity. Yeah. I’m going to have to be careful. But, Once Upon A Time, it wasn’t just a risk, it was a guarantee. So I guess that’s something.