It's an amazing feeling when everything clicks. It's like all the stars align and when it's all over and done with you feel so happy that you practically float. These moments don't happen very often, maybe that's we apprieciate them so much more when they do. In riding, these moments are even rarer. Ask any equestrian, trainer, rider, horse owner, the thing I find myself bogging down over is that since starting on this journey, these moments are happening more often then not. It's an incredible feeling, being so in sync with another being, you barely think something and already you are doing it. I experienced a ride like this today, it was one of the few times it has happened when I haven't being riding my own horses. The horse I was riding was a client's horse, 6 years old, greener then green broke, lazy, and quick as a whip. I've been working with her for just over a month and a half. She's inclined to want to discuss things, and every ride we have at least one disscussion, usually more. Now, on a side note, please understand that in using the term, discussion, I do not mean beating the horse into submission, I do not mean kicking, or yelling, screaming, anything. I simply mean it as it seems, two individuals communicating over a certain topic, both offering their opinion, and then coming to a compromise. Usually with this horse it's the "I want to stop, now!" topic. I will start out by saying "Okay, let's trot four times around the arena" and we will start usually getting around once or maybe twice, before the discussion comes up. "I want to stop, now!" "Come on please, let's go." "Now." "Not yet." "Now?" "One more round." "Okay." I mean it when I say this horse is all about the compromise.
Today, however, our ride was about learning how to dance. The steps taught for hundreds of years, passed down from generation to generation, where transforming from short, out of sequence, choppy movements into a finely tuned and choerographed routine. Today we where both equal in teaching and learning. Like the first lessons in anything there where a few missteps here and there, but the all worked into a light, reflexive piece of symentry. Two Bodies, one mind. The walls of insecurities, worries and mistrust fell all around us, and when the dust cleared we where there, both students, both teachers, waltzing.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Oh to be Young and Three
I'd honestly forgotten how short of an attention span three year old horses have. Especially high cusious, overly friendly horses. Getting them to focus for more then four seconds on anything is a feat on it's own, not to mention when you start adding in distractions, noises, other horses, ect... on top of that. But when they do focus, when they willingly come back to you and say, "okay, I'm ready to learn" It's amazing. Even if it only lasts 10 seconds, because treat them right, and the next time it will last 15 seconds.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Entry Forms
So the entry forms for the first show since our new journey began are in. We're keeping it light, and we are keeping it small for the first one and we will see how it goes.
My Rational mind is thinking how ridiculous I must have looked with my pendulum out, asking Arik if he wanted to go to the show, and what classes he wanted to enter. He was enthusiastic about the show, and insisted on entering a 2'3" hunter class, a 2'6" hunter class on top of a 2'6" and 2'9" jumper class. Also said yes to equitation, but to no other under saddle classes. Apparently he doesn't want me getting sloppy through all of this.
Another surprising development occured with Scooby. I decided to pendulum him to see if he had a specific discipline in mind that he wanted to do. Not usually a very decisive horse, his answer came back strong and clear. Dressage, Dressage, Dressage and nothing else. I find this to be quiet interesting as he came from a dressage background, and he came angry and hurting. It's interesting to see that he wants to get back into it now that he is feeling better. I never would have guessed...
My Rational mind is thinking how ridiculous I must have looked with my pendulum out, asking Arik if he wanted to go to the show, and what classes he wanted to enter. He was enthusiastic about the show, and insisted on entering a 2'3" hunter class, a 2'6" hunter class on top of a 2'6" and 2'9" jumper class. Also said yes to equitation, but to no other under saddle classes. Apparently he doesn't want me getting sloppy through all of this.
Another surprising development occured with Scooby. I decided to pendulum him to see if he had a specific discipline in mind that he wanted to do. Not usually a very decisive horse, his answer came back strong and clear. Dressage, Dressage, Dressage and nothing else. I find this to be quiet interesting as he came from a dressage background, and he came angry and hurting. It's interesting to see that he wants to get back into it now that he is feeling better. I never would have guessed...
Where to Start
Ahhhhhh. Where to start? That's always a good question. I've done this before, blogged that is, I shouldn't be sitting here wondering what I should post and what I shouldn't post. There is no reasonable explanation for this anxiety. What will people think? What will they say? Will people read it?? ....
Then It hits me... DOES IT MATTER? the answer, truthfully, is no. I don't care if people never see it, I don't care if people like or do not like what I write about, because this is my journey. This is something that I need to do. The anxiety suddenly disappears. Perhaps it is some left over trained behavior from high school, graduated two years ago, and only recently has my mind begun to move past the programs and the stereotypes that I never truly believed but was surrounded by every day. Perhaps it is just some left over trained behavior from society. People expect so much, so much in fact that many of them judge you and decide how to categorize you before you even open your mouth, before they even know you.
This stereotyping, this categorizing, is probably the most frustrating thing I have come across in the horse 'training' business. Everyone does it, we are all guilty of it. We are bad about it with other people, with ourselves, but we are even worse about it with our animals. How many times, in the short four years I've been publically doing this, have I heard sayings like "That horse is just mean" or "That horse is crazy" or "That horse is vindictive"? Countless, countless, countless times. The thing that we don't understand is why the horses act like this. Are they emulating us? A lot of the time this is the case. When we go out after having a bad day and our time with our horse makes it even worse, you can probably bet that you're just fighting yourself. Are they in pain? Possibly. People seem to forget that there are other beings out there with thoughts and feelings, and the biggest one, emotions. It's an incredible thing to get the horse owner to see what their horse feels. People have a taught, preconceived notion that animals are just here to serve us, to feed us, to provide for us. It seems impossible for them to remove themselves from that type of hierarchy thinking that puts us on the top and all other creatures on the bottom. And for all the good its done us. We live in a rational world, one where things that can not be explained away by science do not exist. If we can not prove it, if we can not explain it, then it just doesn't happen. There is no Magic left in the world today. Yes, I believe there is still some of us out there that have imagination, and believe, just maybe, that there is something out there that we can not explain, something out there that we just have to accept, and once we do, our lives will rapidly change. I found that something with my horses. I found and still find those things that I can not explain away, I have been awakened and find myself on a journey. I had no idea where I am going. I have no notion or thought of where this will lead. I'm actively participating in going along for the ride.
I have seen changes in myself along the way. This journey is still so new, so fresh, and yet I see them. That proves in my still sometimes rational mind that this is where I need to be. The other half, the half I can't explain, the ever increasing half that is ruled by emotion, and feeling, the side that shows me for who I am in most raw and honest way, is filled with a deep sense of right. After spending my childhood and teenage years never feeling that I quiet belonged, I have finally found a home for my soul. I can not explain it, but it is for this half of myself that I know I am on the right path.
Not I am not saying that this has been easy. It is so incredibly difficult to reprogram your mind. It is so incredibly difficult to renounce society in such a complete and incredible way. I'm not saying I have become a hermit, but there is something slightly hypocritical to me about renouncing everything you have ever been taught, and then continuing to interact with everything that has taught you that which you have given up. It is like the recovering alcoholic who spends his nights in a bar, surrounded by the finest liquor that money can buy, and the liquor is all free for the taking. Well free in the sense of currency. Perhaps not so free from the sense of self, for once you take that first sip, allow yourself to return to that way of thinking, it makes it harder and harder to not take another. It makes it so easy to say, only one more, I can stop after only one more. We all know this is rarely the case. Unfortunately this is paradox of living spiritually in a rationally thinking society. I am not the first to have attempted it, nor will I be the last. This is the difficulties that I find myself attempting to overcome.
When I first began this journey last winter, it was easy, so easy. Natural, right... everything good. I was immersed in it everyday, for hours a day. It was easy because it was just me, my horse, and the people who supported our journey. Now, since my horse has moved home, we come across the biggest obstacle we have faced as a team yet. Retaining our new found selves in a harsher, less accepting world. It's not easy. The hardest thing for me has been the pressure from my family. Since I was young it was always "Grow up, be successful, make money, live easy". And oh isn't it true that money solves all your problems? I will allow it makes things easier, but on the other hand, I've had to sacrifice so much of me to get it, I can hardly see the point. I hold a job, part time mind, four hours every morning, Monday to Friday, summers and holidays off. I make more then enough to get by. And I hate every second of it. But what can I do? I need the money, I can not support myself, or my horses, or this journey without it. And so is the cost of sacrifice. From a more partnered perspective, my horse and I are coming across new pressures. I would love to show, our question... can it be done in this way? Can I put aside myself and my worries, and accept that some days it's just not going to happen. I know there will be a time when we go, and Arik wont be feeling it. Will I be able to pack up the trailer and go home? Will I be able to stand up for my horse and say no to the pressure to compete? Or will I cave? Will I give in to the pressure to succeed? Will I sacrifice everything I have worked towards for one grudgingly given round of show jumping, or one not so willing dressage test? I like to think the best of myself, my mind immediately rejects the concept, but deep down inside I don't know what would happen.
On top of that there is the pressure of schooling. Going round and round and round in the arena, because practice makes perfect. I hate it, my horse hates it, and still we do it. The pressure from the family is incredibly intense from this perspective. Countless times I have heard the muttered "You wont get better if you don’t practice" or the "You need to give that horse a workout today" or the ever dreaded "You need to do something with that horse!" When this happens, I don't know what to say. One afternoon, just recently, I was bombarded with these classic lines. Arik and I where riding bareback, exploring around the yard and arena, just hanging out and having a good time. We where amusing ourselves with the challenge of the step (raised wood box set at three different levels like a podium, you try and get your horse to stand on it) and having fun (at least I was, Arik was going along with it) doing it. When my mom comes over. We aren't doing it right, we should have started on the ground, I should go actually ride my horse, what was I doing just goofing around, how was I ever going to be ready to show if I didn't actually ride him? All valid questions in her mind. I can't blame her.
A year ago I would have said the same thing. A year ago, sure I would have ridden bareback, but a year ago I would have ridden and then picked out everything wrong about it and focused on it. I would have beat myself up, why couldn't I have done better? it was the classic question. I had expectations of myself, I had expectations of my horse, I had expectations on what we would do and where we would go and how we would get there. I had expectations for everything. So is the way we are programmed today. Unfortunately with expectations comes a deadly and toxic negative thinking circle. When are expectations are not met, we do not shrug and say "okay that's fine" we focus on the negative, we focus on why they weren’t met and how they weren’t met. Sometimes we focus on what we can do better, how we can be improved. We go back the next time with higher expectations. When those aren't met we travel on the same circle.
My biggest lesson over the winter was learning to live without expectations, learning to focus on the positive. I learned that there is no wrong, there is no fail. There is just me, and my horse. My horse and I. Two beings, two souls. It never mattered what we did. We had nothing but time. Every trail was open, every window was an opportunity to grow and learn together. We learned how to communicate. We learned how to balance ourselves both physically, emotionally, and spiritually. He started to wake up, and so did I. The emotional changes where the most prevalent. I had always been a happy person, joyful, ecstatic, but when it all came crashing down, it came down hard. The biggest hurdle for me was when I watched my first horse Roux be put down. I watched him die knowing that I could do nothing for him, even to this day I think of all the ways I could have treated him differently, how we could have been if I had discovered this path with him. 11 months to the day after he died I got his name tattooed on my left forearm. It is not only a reminder of a best friend it is a reminder of everything I vowed to never do again. It is a reminder of everything I have learned, and a reminder of everything I still need to learn. It was more then just a symbol of a best friend lost.
I do know however, that if those events had not taken place I would have never been set on this journey, not the way I was. After Roux died I was depressed for a while, I didn't know what to do, where to be, how to live. I cried for days. I rode my other horse, Arik, but my heart was not really in it. As time passed, it got better. I enjoyed Arik, with his quirky bad attitude and intense curiosity. He put some light back into my life. I traveled to Europe, something I had always wanted to do. I worked with my cousins unbroken and not so people friendly three year olds. I fell in love with it. Everyday I got up and looked forward to going out to see them. I bonded well with the gelding, he became an escape for me. I had discovered my passion. Going home was the second hardest thing I have ever had to do. I put off plans to go to school, much to my parent's dismay. "Next year" I told them, "Just one more year." I started advertising to train horses. The response was good. I made some money, I had fun doing it. I started working at a stable, I boarded Arik there, we took a few lessons. It all started going down hill. My horse who had liked jumping well enough before now hated even going for a ride near the owner of the barn. I quit taking lessons, I rode bareback and hacked around. Arik got happier. I got more and more frustrated. My mom suggested I look into going to talk to Dessa Hockley, author of "Is Your Horse a Rock Star" she called her, we set up a play date. We took a lesson. We practiced and rode at the other stable. It Worked. Arik started to look forward to our rides, he was more willing and cooperative.
At the end of the month I moved him to Dessa's barn and we didn't look back. We spent all winter in a sort of happy, content bliss. I started running out of money and got the part time job. It got harder to find time to go out and see him. I could no longer spend full days just hanging out at the barn. I made the decision to move him home. I wont say we weren’t ready for the challenge, because we have handled it well, our relationship is still strong, we are still partners. But once I got him home, that nasty reality came crashing down. I got busy with outside clients. Some days I barely saw him, and he was in the back yard. I started hanging out with a boy, then I really had no time. My balance I had worked so hard to achieve was suddenly non-existent. I was drowning in a pool of my own making with no lifejacket, and no boat. I noticed the change in Arik, some days when I had time to see him, he didn't want to talk to me. My happy, soft and joyful partner had been replaced with a sulky, sad, almost angry equine. I can't say I Blame him. I talked to him. I pendulumed him. He had a lot of emotional stuff going on. We worked through it. I will never forget the relief I felt when I went out the first time after penduluming him and he was there at the fence waiting for me, soft, happy and eager to see me. I knew then that things had to change.
Then It hits me... DOES IT MATTER? the answer, truthfully, is no. I don't care if people never see it, I don't care if people like or do not like what I write about, because this is my journey. This is something that I need to do. The anxiety suddenly disappears. Perhaps it is some left over trained behavior from high school, graduated two years ago, and only recently has my mind begun to move past the programs and the stereotypes that I never truly believed but was surrounded by every day. Perhaps it is just some left over trained behavior from society. People expect so much, so much in fact that many of them judge you and decide how to categorize you before you even open your mouth, before they even know you.
This stereotyping, this categorizing, is probably the most frustrating thing I have come across in the horse 'training' business. Everyone does it, we are all guilty of it. We are bad about it with other people, with ourselves, but we are even worse about it with our animals. How many times, in the short four years I've been publically doing this, have I heard sayings like "That horse is just mean" or "That horse is crazy" or "That horse is vindictive"? Countless, countless, countless times. The thing that we don't understand is why the horses act like this. Are they emulating us? A lot of the time this is the case. When we go out after having a bad day and our time with our horse makes it even worse, you can probably bet that you're just fighting yourself. Are they in pain? Possibly. People seem to forget that there are other beings out there with thoughts and feelings, and the biggest one, emotions. It's an incredible thing to get the horse owner to see what their horse feels. People have a taught, preconceived notion that animals are just here to serve us, to feed us, to provide for us. It seems impossible for them to remove themselves from that type of hierarchy thinking that puts us on the top and all other creatures on the bottom. And for all the good its done us. We live in a rational world, one where things that can not be explained away by science do not exist. If we can not prove it, if we can not explain it, then it just doesn't happen. There is no Magic left in the world today. Yes, I believe there is still some of us out there that have imagination, and believe, just maybe, that there is something out there that we can not explain, something out there that we just have to accept, and once we do, our lives will rapidly change. I found that something with my horses. I found and still find those things that I can not explain away, I have been awakened and find myself on a journey. I had no idea where I am going. I have no notion or thought of where this will lead. I'm actively participating in going along for the ride.
I have seen changes in myself along the way. This journey is still so new, so fresh, and yet I see them. That proves in my still sometimes rational mind that this is where I need to be. The other half, the half I can't explain, the ever increasing half that is ruled by emotion, and feeling, the side that shows me for who I am in most raw and honest way, is filled with a deep sense of right. After spending my childhood and teenage years never feeling that I quiet belonged, I have finally found a home for my soul. I can not explain it, but it is for this half of myself that I know I am on the right path.
Not I am not saying that this has been easy. It is so incredibly difficult to reprogram your mind. It is so incredibly difficult to renounce society in such a complete and incredible way. I'm not saying I have become a hermit, but there is something slightly hypocritical to me about renouncing everything you have ever been taught, and then continuing to interact with everything that has taught you that which you have given up. It is like the recovering alcoholic who spends his nights in a bar, surrounded by the finest liquor that money can buy, and the liquor is all free for the taking. Well free in the sense of currency. Perhaps not so free from the sense of self, for once you take that first sip, allow yourself to return to that way of thinking, it makes it harder and harder to not take another. It makes it so easy to say, only one more, I can stop after only one more. We all know this is rarely the case. Unfortunately this is paradox of living spiritually in a rationally thinking society. I am not the first to have attempted it, nor will I be the last. This is the difficulties that I find myself attempting to overcome.
When I first began this journey last winter, it was easy, so easy. Natural, right... everything good. I was immersed in it everyday, for hours a day. It was easy because it was just me, my horse, and the people who supported our journey. Now, since my horse has moved home, we come across the biggest obstacle we have faced as a team yet. Retaining our new found selves in a harsher, less accepting world. It's not easy. The hardest thing for me has been the pressure from my family. Since I was young it was always "Grow up, be successful, make money, live easy". And oh isn't it true that money solves all your problems? I will allow it makes things easier, but on the other hand, I've had to sacrifice so much of me to get it, I can hardly see the point. I hold a job, part time mind, four hours every morning, Monday to Friday, summers and holidays off. I make more then enough to get by. And I hate every second of it. But what can I do? I need the money, I can not support myself, or my horses, or this journey without it. And so is the cost of sacrifice. From a more partnered perspective, my horse and I are coming across new pressures. I would love to show, our question... can it be done in this way? Can I put aside myself and my worries, and accept that some days it's just not going to happen. I know there will be a time when we go, and Arik wont be feeling it. Will I be able to pack up the trailer and go home? Will I be able to stand up for my horse and say no to the pressure to compete? Or will I cave? Will I give in to the pressure to succeed? Will I sacrifice everything I have worked towards for one grudgingly given round of show jumping, or one not so willing dressage test? I like to think the best of myself, my mind immediately rejects the concept, but deep down inside I don't know what would happen.
On top of that there is the pressure of schooling. Going round and round and round in the arena, because practice makes perfect. I hate it, my horse hates it, and still we do it. The pressure from the family is incredibly intense from this perspective. Countless times I have heard the muttered "You wont get better if you don’t practice" or the "You need to give that horse a workout today" or the ever dreaded "You need to do something with that horse!" When this happens, I don't know what to say. One afternoon, just recently, I was bombarded with these classic lines. Arik and I where riding bareback, exploring around the yard and arena, just hanging out and having a good time. We where amusing ourselves with the challenge of the step (raised wood box set at three different levels like a podium, you try and get your horse to stand on it) and having fun (at least I was, Arik was going along with it) doing it. When my mom comes over. We aren't doing it right, we should have started on the ground, I should go actually ride my horse, what was I doing just goofing around, how was I ever going to be ready to show if I didn't actually ride him? All valid questions in her mind. I can't blame her.
A year ago I would have said the same thing. A year ago, sure I would have ridden bareback, but a year ago I would have ridden and then picked out everything wrong about it and focused on it. I would have beat myself up, why couldn't I have done better? it was the classic question. I had expectations of myself, I had expectations of my horse, I had expectations on what we would do and where we would go and how we would get there. I had expectations for everything. So is the way we are programmed today. Unfortunately with expectations comes a deadly and toxic negative thinking circle. When are expectations are not met, we do not shrug and say "okay that's fine" we focus on the negative, we focus on why they weren’t met and how they weren’t met. Sometimes we focus on what we can do better, how we can be improved. We go back the next time with higher expectations. When those aren't met we travel on the same circle.
My biggest lesson over the winter was learning to live without expectations, learning to focus on the positive. I learned that there is no wrong, there is no fail. There is just me, and my horse. My horse and I. Two beings, two souls. It never mattered what we did. We had nothing but time. Every trail was open, every window was an opportunity to grow and learn together. We learned how to communicate. We learned how to balance ourselves both physically, emotionally, and spiritually. He started to wake up, and so did I. The emotional changes where the most prevalent. I had always been a happy person, joyful, ecstatic, but when it all came crashing down, it came down hard. The biggest hurdle for me was when I watched my first horse Roux be put down. I watched him die knowing that I could do nothing for him, even to this day I think of all the ways I could have treated him differently, how we could have been if I had discovered this path with him. 11 months to the day after he died I got his name tattooed on my left forearm. It is not only a reminder of a best friend it is a reminder of everything I vowed to never do again. It is a reminder of everything I have learned, and a reminder of everything I still need to learn. It was more then just a symbol of a best friend lost.
I do know however, that if those events had not taken place I would have never been set on this journey, not the way I was. After Roux died I was depressed for a while, I didn't know what to do, where to be, how to live. I cried for days. I rode my other horse, Arik, but my heart was not really in it. As time passed, it got better. I enjoyed Arik, with his quirky bad attitude and intense curiosity. He put some light back into my life. I traveled to Europe, something I had always wanted to do. I worked with my cousins unbroken and not so people friendly three year olds. I fell in love with it. Everyday I got up and looked forward to going out to see them. I bonded well with the gelding, he became an escape for me. I had discovered my passion. Going home was the second hardest thing I have ever had to do. I put off plans to go to school, much to my parent's dismay. "Next year" I told them, "Just one more year." I started advertising to train horses. The response was good. I made some money, I had fun doing it. I started working at a stable, I boarded Arik there, we took a few lessons. It all started going down hill. My horse who had liked jumping well enough before now hated even going for a ride near the owner of the barn. I quit taking lessons, I rode bareback and hacked around. Arik got happier. I got more and more frustrated. My mom suggested I look into going to talk to Dessa Hockley, author of "Is Your Horse a Rock Star" she called her, we set up a play date. We took a lesson. We practiced and rode at the other stable. It Worked. Arik started to look forward to our rides, he was more willing and cooperative.
At the end of the month I moved him to Dessa's barn and we didn't look back. We spent all winter in a sort of happy, content bliss. I started running out of money and got the part time job. It got harder to find time to go out and see him. I could no longer spend full days just hanging out at the barn. I made the decision to move him home. I wont say we weren’t ready for the challenge, because we have handled it well, our relationship is still strong, we are still partners. But once I got him home, that nasty reality came crashing down. I got busy with outside clients. Some days I barely saw him, and he was in the back yard. I started hanging out with a boy, then I really had no time. My balance I had worked so hard to achieve was suddenly non-existent. I was drowning in a pool of my own making with no lifejacket, and no boat. I noticed the change in Arik, some days when I had time to see him, he didn't want to talk to me. My happy, soft and joyful partner had been replaced with a sulky, sad, almost angry equine. I can't say I Blame him. I talked to him. I pendulumed him. He had a lot of emotional stuff going on. We worked through it. I will never forget the relief I felt when I went out the first time after penduluming him and he was there at the fence waiting for me, soft, happy and eager to see me. I knew then that things had to change.
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