I binned it on my horse.

I fell off my horse on the weekend.

High sided clean over his head and landed flat on my back, hard enough that the medics came over to check me. I was fine. But it's worth telling you why it happened, because it had nothing to do with the jump.

My boy 'Heisenberg Walter White' is six hundred and fifty kilos, a big beautiful flight animal whose whole job in the world is working out what's about to eat him. We were jumping ninety-five centimetres. Higher than I'd been before in competition, but nowhere near higher than he can go. He can clear that in his sleep.

The problem was me. I was nervous, I saw the height, and I didn't fully commit. He felt it before we got there, because a horse reads the gap between what you're asking and what you believe, and he won't jump into your doubt. He saw the rail, felt me question it, and slammed on the brakes. I went over the front.

Here's the part I keep turning over. I had the skill, he had the ability, and the fall still came, not from the jump being too big but from the space between my skill and my commitment. That space is where you get hurt.

So I got up, put on the body protector I should have been wearing in the first place, and went again. And still couldn't do it.

Then Yona Lloyd stepped in. He's my coach and ridden at the top of this sport for years, and he watched me struggle, came over, and changed a few small things in the warm up ring. Maybe five percent more confidence. That was all it took.

I had everything I needed and still couldn't commit on my own. It took someone outside me to close the last five percent.

We cleared the warm up rail twice. Then the oxer, ninety-five wide and ninety-five high, twice. Then straight into the competition arena, and I rode the whole course committed. We didn't place. But Walter and I did something we'd never done.

The irony of the dangerous things is that caution is what hurts you. Half commit and you fall, fully commit and you get through, and the hesitation is the risk, not the jump.

But nobody tells you the other half. Sometimes you can't find the commitment on your own. You've got the skill and you still pull up short, and what you need isn't more ability, it's someone who can hand you the five percent.

That's part of the work I do. I'm a founder who builds brands for founders. I come in when you've got the elements and you're pulling up short of the brave move, and I help you commit and clear it.

Sometimes the bravest thing isn't more skill. It's someone who believes you've already got it.

Back in the studio this week. The new works taking shape. Broken Gold.