, , , , , , , , , , ,

“EPIC FAIL!” “Loser!”
Passed over. Bounced. Tossed out on your ear.
It happens to all of us. Often it’s a self-inflicted failure. What do you do then?
Quit? Pack up your toys and leave? Leave in a huff?
Leave in a taxi?
Beat yourself up?
Sometimes you’re not ready for some things, other times you are unprepared, and then some times you need a course adjustment
Frequently, though, there is only one thing to do: go back and try it again. Problem with that plan is that, for good reasons, we are adverse to failure, to hurt and to injury.
It’s a good idea, when facing a temptation, a mountain, a difficult task, to face it with a lightness in your soul; your sense of humor helps you get back in the game wholeheartedly. Which is why I like this little piece by Henry Taylor (a filly is a young female horse, for you international readers)

Riding Lesson
I learned two things
from an early riding teacher.
He held a nervous filly
in one hand and gestured
with the other, saying “Listen.
Keep one leg on one side,
the other leg on the other side,
and your mind in the middle.”

He turned and mounted.
She took two steps, then left
the ground, I thought for good.
But she came down hard, humped
her back, swallowed her neck,
and threw her rider as you’d
throw a rock. He rose, brushed
his pants and caught his breath,
and said, “See that’s the way
to do it. When you see
they’re gonna throw you, get off.”

“Riding Lesson,” by Henry Taylor from An Afternoon of Pocket Billiards (University of Utah Press)