As 2012 faded into history and 2013 revealed a new day and a new feel, it was far beyond time for me to update. It's been months since my last post, and winter hit us with a blast of frosty air. The snow hasn't been too bad, but it's been bitterly cold...the kind of chill that burns your skin.
While a ride in September was a lesson for me to remember about complacent riding (at least on an immature horse), Drifter and I have easily moved back into our usual positive patterns in horsemanship. He has taught me just as much about my communication as I have taught him how to carry a rider.
One of the lessons he has taught me about horses -- via how sensitive he is and how much I am paying attention these days -- is that horses actually have the ability to manifest what is going on inside someone. Everyone has heard that if you are nervous around a horse, they can sense it. This is true, but it goes even deeper than that. While that may sound strange/unbelievable...I have seen the physical incarnation of it. If you have seen Avatar, you might recall the unique connection depicted between the Na'vi and their direhorses: tsaheylu (or bond) they called it. Let me explain:
Last year, in the Spring of 2012, after four days at Buck's clinic in Phoenix, I dismounted and walked Drifter out of the arena. It was approximately his 25th ride. My friend, who is an accomplished rider and had audited the entire clinic, had expressed interest in riding Drifter. He was in a great mindset. His head was low and he was quiet. I felt it was a safe time to give it a shot.
We moved him to the lower arena and she got on him. His head immediately shot upward and he began to dance around. I asked my friend to bend him into some serpentines (s-turns) to free him up, but he began to call out to the other horses at the trailers (which he had not done all weekend). She got him busy, something she is comfortable doing on her own horse who has enough energy for 10 horses. As much as I wanted her to feel how responsive he was, he wasn't settling. After a few minutes, I began to wonder if something was wrong.
"What are you thinking about right now?" I asked.
"I have to go check out of my hotel." she replied honestly.
"Well then get off of him and go. That's what's wrong with him."
When she dismounted, Drifter began to settle into his own skin. And with that, we both were able to see that horses can truly mirror you. Literally, they can outwardly express what is going on inside someone.
This isn't a case of a horse with too much energy, fear, or lack of training. This was a case of a horse who was quiet and calm, and then someone who had somewhere else to be sat on his back and he showed me what she was thinking. He outwardly showed that she was in a hurry...that she needed to go.
And that was just an incarnation of hurry.
Imagine what it would have looked like if someone fearful got on him. Horses are flight animals. Fear makes them want to leave. Anyone who has ever been on a runaway horse should try to remember what they themselves were doing on the horse's back. What about an aggressive/assertive rider?
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| This is what happens when an overbearing rider tries to control a horse. |
But the default is to always blame the horse. And perhaps it is wrong of me to resort to blaming the rider, but humans are the ones who engaged the horse...not the other way around.
This October, my friend Erin came up to visit for Halloween (imagine two unicorns and a satyr roaming the San Bernardino mountains). Prior to the Halloween festivities, Erin and I set out on Jake and Drifter and we headed to the Vaqueros Arena (since she has limited access to arenas in her neck of the Pacific Northwest). She struggled a bit with Jake's laziness, but she eventually woke him up and got a few impressive stops on him. Dare I say I was a bit jealous of how she got him to move. But then again, I know I don't put that kind of effort into Jake much anymore. I appreciate that she puts much effort into connecting with a horse when she rides. I wanted to see what Drifter would do with Erin.
After dropping the stirrups a mile, she got on him and walked the arena in a quiet stride in silence. He maintained an easygoing pace and a low head carriage. As I observed this, it appeared that she was introducing herself to him. Eventually, she asked him to pick up the pace and moved him laterally, picking up the reins for softness, and adjusted her own posture when she realized he was dropping his shoulder going to the left of the arena. Drifter manifested her unobstructed communication and confidence.
To me, riding is no longer riding. It's being. If you are having trouble, you don't have to fix your horse, you have to adjust yourself. The horse will follow you if you can lead them. But as we have observed with politicians, employers, pastors, and teachers, some "leaders" aren't really worthy of being followed. What kind of leader are you?
One of my biggest lessons has been: if you try to make it happen, you still have some work to do on you. Use the mechanics of what you've learned, open your heart, focus your feel. Set it up and let it happen...see how that works. You might experience magic.
