Death, Glory, and being Mediocre.

 Hello!!!  Welcome!!  Anyone still out there?  No?  Ehhh...

Way back in 2019 I put away my blogging for what I thought was going to be forever.  The death of a friend had knocked me off kilter and I became consumed with WHAT OTHER PEOPLE THOUGHT.

That I was never going to be brave enough

That I didn't deserve my farm

That I needed to move up and stop stealing ribbons

That my successes weren't a big deal

That I had been taking weekly lessons for years and NEVER IMPROVED.

And I let that consume me.  I'd move forward a bit, have a success, then get stuck in my own self doubt and worry about what other people thought.  Yes I still did stuff, I still showed, I still had good rides and lots of fun, but I was always stuck in my mediocrity.  Hell, I even ended my blog because I thought nobody wanted to read a blog from a mediocre rider.

And you know what?  That's probably still true.  

But......how many other mediocre riders are out there, just like me, thinking they need to live up to expectations and standards set by other people?  Unhappy with their own lives based on the opinions and ideas of someone else?  

Last summer, at a horse trial competing in the level "amoeba" I started a catch phrase, based off a Youtube video of someone in Ireland jumping ENORMOUS hunt fences.  They screamed DEATH OR GLORY!!!!!!!!  

It gave me the giggles.  You only have two options.  Death...Or Glory.

So I shared it.  My fellow fat old ladies riding saintly horses over cross rails competitors loved it!  We screamed DEATH OR GLORY!!!!!  to each other as we slowly and carefully trotted around our crossrails.  We had a blast.  We stole those ribbons right from those little children.

Yet people still tried to steal our joy.  Kind of ridiculous isn't it?  Bunch of grown ups screaming death or glory over crossrails?  Did we expect to die?  Were we really that unsafe?

And so I kind of squished down my death or glory cry and made sure I didn't displease others.  

Then, a solid year later a dear friend scribbled it on the inside of my birthday card.  Explained how it made the entire show for them.  I had made an impact.  Mediocre me.  That was the start.

Then, on my actual birthday I went and I looked at a horse.  A big bay snorty one I have no use for but on my way there, Jesus Christ did I want to call my dear dead friend.  To discuss it's bloodlines.  To talk about it's future.  To hear how encouraging she would have been with an entirely irrational choice.   And so I bought the horse.  Because it made me think of my friend, because it made me think of the person I used to want to be, because we can be happy in our mediocrity.