All that sound advice you get, you know?

Throw the lasso that way, look at the horse in this way, keep your head cool, keep your arms strong, keep them straight, no, a little bent…

To tame your own wild heart is taming a wild horse who has strayed wherever it wanted to, its whole life.

It’s not going to listen to you, it’s not going to respect you.

That is my heart, it is the wildest thing I’ve ever encountered.

No matter how I talk soothingly to it, logically, calmly… it does and goes wherever it wants.

For two years it lay in a dark room, quiet, near death.

Then suddenly one day it stood up and went amok, running, jumping, like had it been possessed by devils.

And now I have to tame it. Again.

Since I know it so well, I know there will only be one or two moments, initially, where I get the chance to control it. If I miss those moments, it will run free and go wherever it wants, completely beyond my control….

I’m in one of those moments now, but frozen…. unable to capture this wild beast of a heart, it has sighted fair green lands of soft grass and silver rivers, from afar. It wants to go, run free, play and live and breathe the air of the great open skies, once again.

No matter it will risk being eaten by wolves, trampled down by elephants, or having its skin torn by bushes with thorns…

I will have one more moment to tame this unruly heart, to lock it up, to make it see reason, to keep it safe, here with me.

But do I want to?

There is something so infinitely sad about taming a beast that is meant to run wild and free.

One more moment soon, to decide, restrain or let it loose?

After that moment, the heart will run free and go wherever it wants, and I will not be able to control it anymore.

No control.


I shiver and close my eyes, waiting for That Moment.