A case of circles...

And it keeps coming back around to....

April 2011. North Phoenix. The last day of a four-day horsemanship clinic.

Buck Brannaman put the class to riding the line of a circle. There weren't any circles drawn in the arena, but the riders were instructed to work with their horse into a 10- to 12-foot circle, with the goal of getting tail to follow nose in an arc, using the reins to help the horse, but ultimately working toward using your legs more and using your reins less or no reins at all. After a bit of working at this, a pretty clear circle would be imprinted in the footing.

Photo courtesy of Mike Thomas

I was riding Kathy's young gelding, Junior. I didn't realize at the time but the sensitivity in that horse, which frustrated me at first, ultimately took me to a place I never thought was accessible in this life.

In clinics past, we had worked on these circles. If you are on a horse with not much "go", it's an experience that can be likened to inner-thigh torture. The forward movement required to keep hind following front is much better achieved in a horse willing to move. I would have not survived 15 minutes on Jake. But Junior is willing to move, which left me with working on guiding him and working on my "feel".

I wasn't prepared for what Buck was setting up. I was one of 18-some-odd riders in a dizzying assembly of circling horses. Junior and I were matting down a pretty good imprint of a circle in the arena.

Every 10 minutes or so, Buck would instruct, "Walk a half figure-8 through the middle of your circle and change directions. Move on."

Again, thanks to Mike (the Horse Mumbler) for the pictures

At times during the exercise, Junior would look out of the arena. He'd pretend to spook at something. I'd bring his nose back into the arc.

Are those bees or yellowjackets? I wondered.
Why are we doing this?

The food staff was prepping for lunch. Junior took notice. So did I. Oh, yeah...get back to your circle, Suzanne....

At one point, I thought it interesting that I'd become possessive of my circle. If a neighboring rider would encroach, I would become a little agitated as if it were my painting that someone was about to mess up with their brush. But I would soon learn it wasn't about the circle.

After about 45 minutes, people around me were falling out of their pattern. Strange geometric shapes were imprinted in the dirt beneath their horses. Another 20 minutes or so went by and some students were chatting, but still going through the motions. A few dismounted to use the outhouse. Others were taking their jackets off or pausing at the side of the arena. I overheard a comment, "I feel like a human hot walker." Clearly, frustration was mounting in the class. But for some reason I kept working at it. Trying to figure it out, knowing Buck had to have a reason.

But what?

As I searched through avenues of my horsemanship that I hadn't been down before, deep in thought of the meaning behind it, trying to feel the horse's feet, Junior met me halfway (and if I hadn't been so aware of the present moment, I'd have missed the timing of the release and the "feel" that was there) something dreamlike happened... we were floating. We were in a perfect arc; my hands weren't on the reins; we had forward movement from the front and hind. It was harmony. Time seemed to slow. Buck's voice on the loudspeaker echoed in the background as he acknowledged something that an auditor was discussing with him. A dragonfly on a tiny jetstream slalomed around us and out into the desert. I was aware of each of Junior's feet landing in the dirt as if they were my own. Our breathing was the same...our movements were the same. This is what Buck wanted! As soon as I really became conscious of what was happening, I lost "it". Junior looked out. I panicked and searched for "it" but didn't get it again, but for a moment I felt what this is all about. I relished the moment and rubbed Junior's neck.

The rest of the class for me wasn't perfect. I felt tired after four days of horsemanship and maybe Junior was too. Or maybe I was trying too hard to make it happen again, and frustrated myself that I couldn't get there again. We didn't fall apart at the seams, but that last hour was my worst of the clinic.

In closing questions, I told Buck how I went from frustration with the circles to harmony. He smiled at me.... then spoke with the class about how if he had time he'd have us do hundreds of thousands of circles. A few groans could be heard.

It was only later when I was discussing with Kathy that I realized what truly happened to me. Paul Dietz had been talking for years about the ultimate goal: one mind, one body. But I never could comprehend exactly what that meant. I was overcome with hot tears and my body trembled at the enormity of what that was like. I had to hang up the phone because I felt as if I was hyperventilating. My knees buckled and I dropped to the dirt. I panicked that I wouldn't experience it again.

The next day, I tried to seek validity from Paul. Then he simply said, "You know what you felt. Why didn't you develop it?"

How is it that I have been "riding horses" for 20+ years and not known that this was there all along!? Perhaps trying to make things happen is not the answer after all. What got me here isn't good enough to get me where I am going. The more I learn, the more I understand that I received what I had asked for. And I've tried to surround myself with a circle of horsemen and horsewomen with the same goal in mind.

It's universal...

It is universal...and it changes you. In the past six months, I feel like I have become a different person. Maybe I have become more patient, tried to become less judgmental, and more open and accepting of what is out there to enhance my life. I try to see people as if they're doing the best they can with where they're at in life. Whether I agree with what they do is irrelevant, as theirs is not my life to judge. I'm only doing the best I can with where I am in mine.

"The tragedy of life is what dies inside a human while he is alive." ~Albert Schweitzer

As Paul Dietz says, "Enjoy the journey." He is right. Enjoy, indeed.

Keep learning with an open mind. It just keeps getting better...