Let the Horse Run: Opportunity Isn’t Yours to Own
The more you chase, the further it runs. The moment you align, it moves with you.
The Encounter
She stared straight at me, eyes blazing. Her muscles tightened as she let out a wild, deep sound, front legs kicking high, hooves cutting through the morning air.
Powerful, untamed, totally herself.
I froze. My heart pounding, breath stuck halfway between excitement and fear.
And just like that, the scene rewound.
Hooves un-kicked the sky. Her wild cry faded into silence. I was no longer standing in front of her, but back at the edge of the field.
Where it all began.
Stillness Before the Wild
Some moments don’t begin with action. They begin with stillness.
I stood quietly at the edge of the field, wrapped in silence. I immersed myself in the muted colours of a Provence morning. Early mist clung softly to the grass.
That time of the day, when the world is wide asleep. No unexpected encounters. Just the time and space to think your own thoughts.
I turned slowly. Ahead, framed by the morning dawn, stood a wild horse.
Watching me cautiously. Powerful. Unbroken. Completely free.
My heart sped up, suddenly aware I faced a choice.
The Hidden Third Door
When something wild shows up, your body responds before your brain does.
Whether it’s a sudden job offer, an intense relationship or an unexpected encounter — instinct kicks in. Fight, flight or align.
I could hide, let this magnificent creature pass unnoticed. Convincing myself I wasn't ready or worthy to approach.
I could trap her, harness her strength, parade her power as my own. Another trophy to feed my ego.
But there was a third option, one quieter, more uncertain:
I could step forward, palms open in respect and see if she'd let me ride beside her.
So I did. Slowly, without force. With intention.
She didn’t flee.
In that moment, something shifted between us, the wild force and the human intention - alignment instead of ownership.
The Split Second That Defines You
Instinct reacts. Intention relates.
One grabs. The other meets.
I think about that moment a lot, especially when a new opportunity presents itself.
Not the neat, well-marketed one. The wild one. The one that makes your stomach flip. The one with no guarantees. No map. Just movement.
When it shows up, it’s easy to act on instinct, fight or flight is what we are wired to do.
Some people hide, waiting for the timing to feel more certain. They tell themselves they’re being pragmatic and strategic. But more often than not, it’s fear dressed up as logic. There’s no real intention behind the pause, just hesitation and doubt.
Others rush straight in. They try to trap the moment before it gets away. They act quickly, not because it’s right, but because they’re afraid to miss their shot. And once it’s secured, they squeeze it until the magic is gone.
But urgency is not intention. Control isn’t clarity. Possession isn't presence.
I’ve frozen. I've forced.
But alignment… it doesn’t push. It invites.
The times that stayed with me, the ones that shifted something inside, were when I moved with intention, not effort.
Not to catch the horse. Not to prove anything. But to meet it.
Learn from it. Let it guide me somewhere new.
The more I let go of the need to own an opportunity, the more it gives back.
Power Without Force
The best opportunities aren't conquered. They’re co-created.
Ideas move freely. Collaborations feel alive. Results follow naturally, not because you demanded them, but because you are in flow with something real.
That only happens when your intention is pure.
When you’re not using the moment to boost your ego, mask your fear or pretend to be someone you are not. When you’re not trying to extract something, but willing to be in relationship with the opportunity itself.
That’s my practice now:
Before I say yes. Before I build. Before I share.
I ask myself: What’s my true intention?
If it’s ego, I breathe.
If it’s fear, I pause.
If it’s alignment, I move.
Gently. Clearly. With respect.
Because the best opportunities aren’t here to be claimed or conquered.
They’re here to meet the version of you who’s ready. Not the version who’s loudest. Not the one with the perfect plan.
But the one who can walk toward something wild and say, “I’m not here to own you. I’m here to ride with you.”
Let the Horse Run
Not every horse is yours to ride.
Read that again.
Sit with it.
Embrace it.
So when the right one shows up, the one that doesn’t quite fit into your old frameworks, but feels too alive to ignore, don’t rush it. Don't trap it. Don't turn away.
Ask yourself instead:
Can I meet it with my real intention?
Can I trust what might unfold, even if I can’t control the outcome?
When the horse runs, let it.
You don’t need to ride every horse.
But when the right one shows up, the one that meets your truth, your timing, your desire to grow — meet it with an open mind and the right intention.
And if it lets you? Run with it.
I love this analogy using a horse to describe the fight or flight situation.
"When something wild shows up, your body responds before your brain does." This quote really speaks to me, because we are often reactive. It's only when we "live with intent" that we slow this fight or flight instinct.
Wonderful take on intention with a fabulously visual metaphor to go with it.