Pegasus! ‘Horse Flying’

Being ‘thrown’ on a horse, flying down a hill so steep; an imaginary cliff-edge; inspired thoughts of Pegasus, but ultimately without the wings. Recollections of abject terror frequently visit the memory. No training, dust from hooves in canter (or was it a gallop?). Sharp bends, no breaks to apply… an unforgettable experience; hence vivid memory re-enacted and put into words. There is no recollection of ‘landing’; my mind transported by stunned relief, with any equine element removed to be preserved for future visitations.

Learning to ride a horse; instructions delivered by a trainer with firmness and authority; fortunately, without the threat of a riding whip! Horses are extremely sensitive to human emotions; friendliness, fear, uncertainty, and apprehension are all received by a horse. There is indeed a degree of empathy which when experienced is rather special; a privilege no less.

The phrase ‘horse whisperer’ is rather appropriate. A horse reacts to human voices and vibes. Just walking past horses in stables each one reacts in its own way as a person walks past. A number of horse lovers including Sophie, my daughter (who has her own cuddly, lovable horse, Mira) also had lessons at the time.

One training session involving riding without a saddle or stirrups. Riding without a saddle can be rather ‘interesting’ as one is literally on horseback but no manner of elevating away from the saddle to minimize discomfort; especially for males! The objective is to fully realize the ability to manage and indeed synchronize with a horse’s movements. A canter is a smooth movement and less painful.

I do remember one incident when left hanging, almost off the horse and literally clinging on for dear life until I gradually regained an upright posture. It may have been when galloping along a beach, my head hitting a tree branch. This was scary! But I survived.

I remember Johan Kruijf the former famous Dutch football player sitting in the bar having a bite to eat with his family. Friendly chap.

Lessons were confined to an indoor or outdoor arena. When in the outdoor arena, the sight and smell of the countryside stimulated a longing for freedom and open space but not initially possible nor recommended during the rookie stage.

Ultimately, Sophie and I used to enjoy horse riding at a stable in the south of the Netherlands. Freedom, at last, to be released onto landscape adorned with woodland, tree-lined avenues (ideal for a mad gallop!), white asparagus fields, and other tasty Dutch specialties stretching out into the distance; pristine, neat furrows.

When first riding along wide paths adorned with trees and bushes, a trainer used to accompany the newly released novices. I remember the incredibly tall horses. Goodness knows how many hands. A couple of hands would have been ideal to lift one up into the saddle. No such luck! Mounting such a splendid example of equestrian elegance was to a degree challenging. The stirrups too high to put one foot in, then haul oneself over the top. No box (as in England) to make mounting easier and indeed less painful. Ultimately though; ready for take-off! There were around ten of us out for the first ride. Initially a gentle stroll, easy and relaxed, absorbing countryside views, wind rustling through trees, and welcoming birdsong heralding the arrival of a bunch of rookies!

Then, the signal from the trainer who was of course leading, beckoned a rising trot. Up and down in the saddle, synchronized with the movement of the horse in a pleasing and elegant manner. This was the ‘warm-up’ procedure. The trainer’s hand (reminded me of the ‘Wagon Train’ Western, TV series) signaled a canter. Having experienced a canter at a slower pace at the stables this was beyond the imagination.

Almost viewing an infinity of freedom offered by this long, seemingly endless tree-lined avenue and fields of green. Cantering in unison, thoroughly enjoying gripping the horse’s flanks with one’s legs and remaining in a seated position.

This was a reality, a dream come true; almost what one imagined was a gallop.

The next stage was indeed a gallop. A group of rookies suddenly being instructed (by another wave of the instructor’s seemingly imperious hand) the troop galloped. Really galloped! Dust flying, leaning forward, raised above the saddle. Infinity; the Universe knows no bounds; elevated to a new and exciting level of consciousness; rider and horse join as one, seeming flying through the air, just above the pathway to enlightenment.

I can now resonate with the Apollo 13 astronauts. A countdown?…3, 2, 1… ‘we have lift-off’! Trusting that the famous words ‘Houston, we have a problem here’ would not become a reality. Then it would be the hope of ‘Houston, we have a solution!’

A full gallop; previously confined to the imagination; now a reality!? The combined noise of horse’s hooves around me as the ‘troop’ galloped in a relatively close formation, bordered on the surreal. Galloping in a group is scary; proximity to other rider’s front, back, and both sides leaving only an imaginary vertical take-off should anything demand such dramatic action, fantasy, and hope!

A particular memory beckons description. My horse literally galloped away at full speed; passing all riders including the trainer?. During this high-speed gallop there was a sense of breaking out of orbit and heading for the infinity of Nature via an avenue of trees; a ‘runway’ as if heading for a shining star and hopefully not a black hole.

My head close to the horse’s neck, flying with the majesty of a four-legged angel, I looked down and witnessed the blur of hooves pounding at breakneck speed, the wind in my face. Then sudden terror at what would happen if we ‘crashed’. No parachute, no James Bond DB5 ejection seat. At this moment I was vaguely conscious of the trainer, way behind with the rest of the troop and horses being pack animals following the fastest. Should the horse have had wings we would have taken off and headed for the tops of trees and perhaps closer to ‘Cloud Nine’, or even higher; the Universe beckoned! Pegasus to base!

The trainer was yelling at me with a mix of Dutch and English expletives which seemed to make this horse go even faster. Carefully and progressively tugging the reins (no disc brakes) slowed this racehorse to at least below the speed of sound. I am unsure whether I enjoyed leading the pack (or rather the horse leading the pack) or on reflection sheer terror removed any concept of reality. The memory serves me well; every meter, kilometer and ultimately returning from a vacuum of the space-time continuum, seemingly a re-entry into Earth’s atmosphere; breaking away from a neutron star’s event horizon. Challenging at the best of times.

I was elevated, heart, body, and soul; looking staring at the in front, off the saddle, the horse’s mane flying around in the wind. Then the sudden realization that witnessing the flying hooves of this wingless Pegasus hit me for six. There was little connection with reality. What on earth was I doing? This moment has lived with me ever since and visits me often. My Divine Breadcrumb is the realization that my life was walking (or rather galloping) on a tightrope. A stunned sense prompted me to consider whether I would live to tell the tail. Since this very real experience, I have never taken the fragility of life for granted. Flying high on horseback as if heading for the Universe. A memory as vivid now as it was then.

Simon Lever
Simon Lever
CREATIVE WRITER + STORYTELLER - AUTHOR - CHAMPIONING POSITIVITY, EMPATHY, AND KINDNESS. Prior to retirement, engaged in software and services sector recruitment for American companies seeking to set up operations in Europe. A most enjoyable aspect being the privilege of co-operating with individuals from countries including France, Germany, Italy, Sweden, Belgium, and the Netherlands. Now my energy is directed towards voluntary services, including creative writing for a Community Magazine and other community activities. Further, as an Exhibition Steward, I am actively and enthusiastically involved in introducing visitors to the famous, award-winning 'Kings and Scribes Exhibition', presenting the amazing artifacts to visitors. The King's and Scribes Exhibition is also the location of the awesome 900-year-old 'illuminated ' Bible, written in 'Old Latin' - Vulgate as it is called. The exhibition is an absolute delight. Literally walking through history. Winchester Cathedral, a 1000-year-old icon makes me feel rather younger than reality! It allows me to engage with people the world over regardless of nationality or faith. I am also welcome visitors to the Cathedral. My Mom was Christian and my Dad, Jewish. And there are many anecdotes on that special topic! I gain inspiration and energy engaging with like-minded individuals around the world; writing extensively on BizCatalyst 360°, LinkedIn, and blogs on Carol Campos' The Divine Breadcrumb website. Carol is an inspirational soul coach. Although 'retired' from front-line business I maintain regular contact with former colleagues and clients. Over the years I have built up a treasured and very special international 'network' of genuine, empathetic Friends where weekly or even daily comments and opinions are exchanged. I enjoy creative writing; from the heart. with the accent on the natural environment, transforming feelings, emotions, sights, sounds, and scents of Mother Nature's landscape; hills and rivers and woodland into words that convey and project reality. Other essays, articles, and blogs include vivid accounts of former days' experiences. Instinctively writing in such a spontaneous manner, descriptions become a reality in the mind; the reader's imagination 'transported' to the Universe of light and wonder. My creative and often emotionally charged writing is vivid whether describing the surreal 'Son et Lumiere' at the Grand Place in Brussels, flying around Europe describing the memorable experiences of brasseries and restaurants in many cities. Imagination becomes a reality. The past becomes the present in the mind's eye. I write because I love writing and my choice. Kindness is a word that is used more than ever. And is ever more important. I am an active promoter of Shelly Elsliger PPCC 'Decide to be Kind' Campaign; #kindclub wearing the wrist band with pride and spreading Kindness with enthusiasm. Thank you for reading my Bizcatalyst 360° profile.


  1. You sent me back in time, Simon, almost with smells included.

    My first horse – a rented pony – that threw me over the head when I was 4 or 5.

    While my sister loved riding lessons, I didn’t sit on a horse again for years until as a teenager I spent a week on horseback riding across moors and dunes – and probably stinking to high heaven.

    Having learned trot in an English saddle, doing that in a cowboy saddle was asking for trouble in the form of two black and blue bruises each the size of a hand (you know where) when I first visited my Colorado family with their 20 or so horses. The peak experience was getting to gallop an Appaloosa at the foot of the Greenhorn Mountains.

    Pegasus indeed.

    • Wow! We have both been galloping around! You do have a story to tell! The English ‘rising trot’ is rather elegant, and reaches you the ‘collected’ posture; challenging when going round a bend!

      Sophie’s horse Mira, is gorgeous. Only horse I have kissed on the nose! She’s is actually cuddly! I think a cowboy saddle must be like riding bareback!

      I am so pleased there is a high degree of synergy here. Especially as horses naturally love the countryside!

      Thank you!

  2. I enjoyed your post immensely, Simon. You reminded me of my childhood when I was kid walking besides a horse loaded with fruits and vegetables to take the vegetables central market. I walked about five miles in each trip so that I could ride the horse on the way back.

    Your paragraph “A full gallop; previously confined to the imagination; now a reality!? The combined noise of horse’s hooves around me as the ‘troop’ galloped in a relatively close formation, bordered on the surreal” resonates strongly with me. My post of today on BIZCATALYST is titled The Pregnant Tree. It is about imagination. I
    L loved your imagination riding on a flying horse. This is brewing in my mind. Few ideas started to flow

    • Dear Ali,

      Thank you so much for your comments! Horses (especially flying ones!) seem to resonate with us both!
      I very much look forward to reading your Bizcatalyst360 ‘The Pregnant Tree’.

      Thank you again Ali,

      My kindest regards,









This is default text for notification bar