Gravity always wins 🌘

Falling Gracefully- What My Horse Taught Me About Letting Go

I’ve successfully procrastinated writing this post for three months. Honestly, it’s been hard to find the motivation. In this age of AI and ChatGPT, it sometimes feels like we’re not only overconsuming but also overcreating. I’ve been more active on TikTok lately, and maybe that’s why writing has slipped to second place. The medium is changing — and so is social media — but here I am, back with my words.

Rewinding the Tape

For those who haven’t been with me from the start, let’s rewind.On August 30th, I had an individual horseback riding lesson. I don’t usually take lessons — what I really love is galloping freely outside. I’ve tried to learn dressage for years, but deep down, I’m more of a cowboy-at-heart kind of girl.

This particular lesson was meant to assess whether I could join faster galloping groups when my fiancé doesn’t want to ride. My instructor noticed I wanted more speed, and with some hesitation, I said yes. Galloping with a faster group outside sounded amazing. I chose my favorite and oh-so-trustworthy partner, Amour, for the lesson.That morning, though, I had a strange feeling — as the witch I am — but I brushed it off as anxiety. After all, life has taught me not to let fear make my choices. And as any witch knows, distinguishing between fear and intuition can be a lifelong lesson of its own.

The Ride

I brushed and saddled Amour. Since there was no indoor track yet, we rode in the pasture. It was a gloomy, rain-soaked day — the kind that seeps into your bones.

For fifty minutes, everything was pure joy. We trotted. We cantered. We galloped. We came from the diagonal. We halted.Then my instructor said, “Let’s do one last gallop.”

So I did.

As we approached the corner, I saw Amour’s front left leg give way — and in the next moment, I was flying. A split second of freedom, weightlessness… then darkness.

When I came to, I was somehow back in the saddle, but I couldn’t see clearly. I’ve fallen from horses before, many times, but never had I imagined that a horse could fall with me. That thought had simply never existed in my mind.

The Aftermath

I lost consciousness. Amour fell. I fell. And when I finally stood up, I thought I was fine — until the pain began to settle in.

Then came the long list of doctor visits, tests, and therapies:

• Two emergency room visits on the day of the accident (30.8)

• Two CT scans (30.8 and 3.9)

• Four trauma therapy sessions (4.9, 18.9, 2.10, 8.10)

• Neurology appointments (18.9, 25.9, 29.9, 13.10)

• MRI and contrast MRI scans (22.9 and 3.10)

• Chinese acupuncture and medicine sessions (23.9, 30.9)

• Doctor control visit (13.11)

In addition to the medications and traditional treatments, I tried everything: Shakti wonderball, cold packs, hot oat pillows, herbal balms — you name it. But when a pain attack came, nothing helped. The pain is so bad it makes me nauseous.

Eventually, the doctors found fibrosis between my C1 and C2 vertebrae — scar tissue inside the spinal fluid pressing on the nerves, causing constant pain. My medications kept changing, chasing relief that never quite arrived.

Trying to Return

Two weeks ago, I tried to return to riding. It felt almost normal, so I went to yoga. That felt fine too. Then, full of hope, I went to two dance classes in one day.

That night, hell broke loose. The pain came back worse than ever, and nothing — not medicine, not rest — could calm it down. Each morning I hoped it would improve, but it didn’t.

Today, I finally accepted that I won’t be dancing again for the rest of this year — maybe not even this season.

I’ve gone through all the stages: shock, denial, sadness, grief, anger. What’s left now is acceptance.

While waiting for the postal service to pick up my performance costume, I typed a message to my dance teacher:

“I’ll be returning to bed rest.”

It’s heartbreaking to think that all the hard work and dance courses from last year might be lost. Or at least, that’s what it feels like right now. The physique which I built. The stamina. The precisions. All gone.

Finding Small Joys

These days, I find comfort in small things — visiting the stables, feeding the babies carrots, or trying to paint (even when my hand protests). I meditate when I can and pull out my tarot cards, asking the universe for patience.

Healing isn’t linear, but it is full of meaning. And I’m learning that stillness can be its own form of movement.

I got offered to ride a beautiful horse in another stable. I am so flattered of the opportunity to be able to do dressage and jumping but at the same time I do think myself more as cowgirl. But also during winter in this part of Europe you do not do outside activities in the next six months. So in that sense showjumping sounds very attractive. Let me get my new pain medicines first and see how my life is. Look at me I can not stop dreaming about getting back to my normal life.

A Light-Hearted Ending (Because Life Demands One)

Amour, by the way, is perfectly fine — probably wondering why his favorite witch stopped showing up with snacks. I told her I’ll be back once I feel better.

Maybe my spine disagrees, but my spirit hasn’t stopped trotting.And who knows — maybe next time, we’ll stick to a nice, safe walk in the rain… or maybe not.

Because after all, what’s life without a little gallop? 🐎✨

Toodaloo, Tara Who