It is not because things are difficult that we do not dare, it is because we do not dare that things are difficult.

The wisdom of Seneca.

(WHAT has the world come to when I search for an image of a perfectly good Roman Stoic philosopher of the First Century BC and I get THIS?)  I haven't even seen The Hunger Games...


Anyway...


The thought about things being difficult (or not) came to my mind this morning when my friend Serena asked if I'd like a ride on her pony, Ripple, another Connemara, aged 26, and with immaculate behaviour (apart from when he sees the ghost in the Leylandii hedge.)

Ripple Gillard-Hickman

I was wearing wellies and jeans (oooh, how painful the seams are!) but he went perfectly. I only had to THINK, let's turn left here, or let's jump over this wall and he did...no fuss. Then Peter (a non-rider) got on and Ripple cantered sweetly up the hill and things went very well until the saddle swivelled round under his belly with Peter's considerable weight when they were turning a corner. It wasn't a REAL fall...


What a contrast to riding either Poppy or Alfie!


The thing is...

It made me realise just how challenging my two horses are. And that I must be a pretty good rider with all the training they've given me. And that while it was a wonderful experience to float around on an obedient pony with no vices, I think I might eventually get bored. And that I wouldn't swap Alfie and Poppy, and all the highs and lows, and all the excitements and thrills, and all the tears and laughter...and cuddles...

...FOR THE WORLD!

Travel imparts new vigour to the mind

Thus spake Seneca. A very long time ago.

I'm not sure that Seneca spent a lot of time driving along the M25 on a Friday afternoon. (Actually, the haunted expression on his face might suggest otherwise.)

The word 'driving' is something of a euphemism which might be replaced by crawling, juddering or hardly moving at all.

I had a great set of meetings yesterday at the Commonwealth War Graves Commission. For someone who spends much of her time on her own at home in front of a computer, to travel away from home, to meet new people, to talk instead of e-mailing truly DOES impart new vigour to the mind.

Except for the journey home along the M25!

'No-one realises how beautiful it is to travel until he comes home and rests his head on his old familiar pillow,' said Lin Yutang.

To me, the best bit of going out is coming home. Not coming home, no, not the journey. The arriving.