june 14, 2024

The brazen shrew has let go, overwhelmed by consistently taking forgotten pills. Mea culpa. Meanwhile, the fragrant fur and its tongue, carefully licking a watermelon, bring me great happiness. I am happy simply because I am.

Yesterday, my favorite clients, the Mili couple, made me realize that I am suffering from a fatal illness. That sounds a bit scary. Speaking of “scary” — yesterday, after what the trainer and I agreed was a nice, good training session, while enjoying Bon grazing, “Mrs. Good Advice,” emerging from the depths of the fragrant, museum-like little house, suddenly spoke up, chewing on a cigarette.

She told me that I should ride without stirrups — to improve my seat, that I have a stiff hand and that I raise my leg too high. The lady with the cigarette, squatting and handling various broadly defined tasks, “advised” me. Polish rot showed itself in all its glorious form.

I was left speechless, and when I said, “I’m learning all over again,” she replied, “But you haven’t had a break.” It tightened—not her remark, but my attempt to understand why people… can be mean. I will never understand.

All the stories from the past three years, the consistent attempts to overcome the Personal Demon, ultimately give me strength. I think that—almost fifty years old—I’m finally beginning to understand whom I should love the most. Myself.

PS. To the “Charming Lady,” I wish focus on herself. Maybe it will still bear some good fruit.