When I arrived as a naive youth in Melbourne way back when the dragons blew smoke over the Antipodes, I had an urge to ride a horse. What a ridiculous thought, said my rational mind. I had never seen a horse, except on t.v. (where the coloured feathered men kept getting shot). What was I to do when (possibly) a past-life memory starts to itch?
Anyway, I found an isolated part of the country where I could hire a horse to ride. I admitted to the proprietor that I had never ridden a horse. He then led out a large animal, checked the reins, and went back into his office. Remembering what I had seen on t.v., I mounted the horse easily, shook the reins (like on t.v.), and said to the horse something like ‘Let’s go!’
The horse ambled off, crossed the adjoining road without pause, forcing the cars to stop (which I pretended not to notice), and kept ambling. Shaking the reins and talking to the horse had no effect; but I wasn’t prepared to use my heels (like on t.v.) on my steady transport to make it move faster. After about 15 minutes along a track which must have been familiar to the horse, it stopped, and turned back home – still ambling.
When it got to the yard, it stopped at the door of the office. I dismounted easily (like on t.v.), and went in. “You OK?” “Yep.” And that was that. I set off to find the bus home.
How did I feel about that experience? An incomplete satisfaction, because I wanted to ride the horse. That may have been an itch from the long-forgotten past because, near the end of my life, my casual clairvoyant friend (who tends to see things spontaneously, often out of context) said that she could see me on a stallion!