the end.

I’m lucky that I happened to be at the right place at the right time to meet the right people. Connections in my life, in my job, in the horse-world- they’ve all heavily influenced the life that I’m able to lead right now.

I read once that the harder you work at something, the more fortunate you become. I’ve worked hard. I’ve put myself out there. I’ve struck gold and I’ve struck out. I’ve been praised and criticized, patted on and stabbed in the back. I’ve put in my time, but have no qualms about still being on the clock. Those people that I was lucky enough to meet and make connections with? I’ve been fortunate enough that we have a lot in common and that we’ve stayed in touch, stayed friends.

“What we sometimes consider lucky or fortunate are by-products of being good at what we do. Am I fortunate to have a job that I don’t have to ask for time off or worry about whether I only have 3 vacation days left? Yep. Did I get it because I was lucky? Nope. I got it because I work hard at what I do and I work harder at getting better at it every day. By getting better at what I do, I create circumstances around myself for others to notice and hopefully gain from it….Reputations and relationships aren’t based on luck. CEO’s of big firms, top sales guys, athletes and entertainers rarely make their mark on luck. I would venture to bet that in almost every case of self-made successful people, hard work paid dividends multiple times that of luck. Create your own good fortune with hard work and don’t fall into the trap of thinking that someone is doing better that you because they are just lucky.”

I found this little paragraph when I was searching for the difference between lucky and fortunate. People always tell me that I’m lucky. I usually passively correct them, and answer back, “Yes, I am extremely fortunate.” People tell me that I’m lucky that I get such great clients. I used to think that, too. Now, I think that I’m just really good at getting to know my clients- getting to know their wants and needs, their tastes and styles. I’m good at spotting the clients that I know I won’t click with because I can almost read it in the tone of their email. I have really, really great friends. Am I lucky? No. I’m a good friend first- I put time and effort into staying in touch, being kind, considerate, fun, and happy. I’m not a horrible person (I hope?!) that is just strangely lucky to have really cool people in my life.

My luck and fortune and ‘good’ all kind of came together when Dolly and Elssa came into my life.

My luck started when I met Jennifer years and years ago at the Annapolis Valley Exhibition with her beautiful Whitney White- an elegant black mare who instantly stole my heart. My fortune kicked in when a sweet girl from Bermuda saw Jennifer’s pictures on the internet and contacted me about taking pictures of her horse, as the mare was here and she was there. I added a dash of good in by taking the Bermudian sledding and skiing. And letting her know how much I loved her horses. She reciprocated with some good of her own, asking me if I’d be willing (seriously??!) to look after her beautiful horses for her in their semi-retired state. And the good just keeps getting better. Lindsay, my Bermudian beauty, comes to visit as often as she can. We are the best of friends, talking at least once a day via some means of communication. I can’t even count the number of times I start a sentence with “Lindsay was telling me the other day…” or how often she crosses my mind. Her parents are like a second set to me- Mama Lu and Papa J ♥.

I work hard for the good stuff that happens in my life. Very hard. And very happily. I have two wonderful horses to love and treasure. I have a fabulous friend and a Bermudian family just a short plane ride away. I have my confidence back. I have sore legs and sweaty saddle pads, and smiles again.

May luck be with you, fortune smile upon you, and all good (things and not) come your way ♥

(Here are a few pictures from my lessons yesterday- thanks, Ashley! The horses were amazing- AMAZING!)

Mojo is 11 years old now. She’s a slight, polite, very lady-like brindle boxer who has lived in Brookfield all of her life. She’s an icon, of sorts. She’s allowed in the schools, the post office, the bakery- she’s allowed pretty much anywhere she wants to go. She never wears a leash and never leaves her yard. When I walk her, people say hello to her and not to me (I’m not a Brookfield native). One little boy even asked “Miss, is this your dog?” as Mojo was sniffing a lamp pole about 10 feet behind me. I replied no, and before I could explain that I was just walking her he said “Oh, Mojo. Come on, I’ll take you home.”

When I walk into Dane’s parents’ house, Mojo is the first one to greet me. She snuffs and paws at me, her little tail wagging all the way up to her ears. She is old and the greeting ritual only lasts a few moments before she resumes her post at the kitchen entrance in hopes of something making its way to her dish. Without knowing it, she breaks the ice. “Mojo looks great,” I say, commenting on her coat, or her recent weight gain. Dane’s mom usually turns to look at her, smiling. His dad calls her over and takes a few playful swats at her, the old dog reciprocating with flying paws in his direction. If she’s really feisty, she makes a little noise- somewhere between a squeak and a growl- whatever it is, it means she’s happy. And when she’s happy, it means the family can be happy. And without knowing it, the old brindle and white and grey dog is the mortar that holds the big strong bricks of that household, of that family, in place.

Love them.

Could be because Miranda’s got some Valley blood in her veins (which automatically makes her awesome). Could also be because Chris’s sense of humour makes me want to keep listening to his stories despite the fact that we’re usually supposed to be talking ‘business.’ Or, it could be because they compliment each other like peas and carrots.

I see lots of people in love. It’s my job to look at, watch, and study people in love. There are some people who don’t just love each other. They’re not just madly infatuated with that other person that they’ve chosen to spend the rest of their life with. Instead, you can see that they love themselves more when they’re with that person. They become more confident, more assured, more at ease. They smile more, they sigh more. Their guard drops quicker. I become their friend faster. Everything in the world is good because their love, their confidence, their trust, their happiness- it all reflects and bounces off of them, onto the other person, then right back at them again. Like a giant hall of mirrors. It doesn’t matter how old you get, you always try to catch a glimpse of that ‘last’ reflection, the one that’s furthest away. But you know that you’ll never lay eyes on the end of that reflection- even when you can’t see it, it’s still going, still bouncing around, still reflecting.

These guys bounce love around like crazy. It wears off on anyone who’s around them. Wait til you see their wedding pictures- trust me.