Starting Over

I've always said Drifter teaches me hard lessons. They've always been valuable lessons (don't use your cell phone when riding a green colt, don't try to pull your socks up inside your boot when sitting on a green colt, don't get too excited and push him too hard or too fast on your first day at the beach).

I am in the middle of learning a hard lesson with his half-brother.

Asking for flexion, unaware he was mentally checked out.

Launchpad!

When reins are too long, one-rein stops are hard to achieve,
especially when you get out of balance.
Buck says more weight needed to be in the left stirrup.

It's been about four months now since I came off Bravo. It was maybe ride 50 or so.

This horse shook me...but thankfully he didn't hurt me. Not physically, anyway.

I have met, and still know, many people who are dealing with overcoming fear. My fear might not be as paralyzing as someone else's, but it's still filled my head full of doubt. If I am to help others with their fear, I have to deal with my own.

I've gone back to groundwork but have been on him a few times since then, with varying results. Deep, ribbon candy serpentines (timing the rein with the feet) helped on one squirrely ride but, even after decent groundwork, I've often failed in merely successfully stepping into the stirrup without a brace in him...without the tension. He's bucked or bolted out from beneath me several times. In case you were wondering, no, I haven't been the most calm and confident for these interactions.

The only thing I can do is start over and go slow. 

I'm taking my time checking everything out: haltering, grooming, leading, groundwork and saddling. I've roped his feet. I've revisited Paul's videos, asked for Buck's advice (regarding positioning after his horse made a very similar attempt to get away), and asked for Steffi's help with groundwork. And today, I stepped into the stirrup and lifted myself on my left leg...knowing full well I wouldn't be swinging my right leg over his croup.

Whoosh!

He shot out from beneath me, but this time I was prepared and stepped out of the stirrup and disengaged his hindquarters.

Sigh.

Sigh. Bravo replied, and my frustration melted. Its interesting that in all of my lessons, I can't allow my students to be frustrated with their horses...so I can't be frustrated when handling my own.

I rubbed his neck and thanked him for stopping.

My toe went back into the stirrup. I leaned against him and tried to relax myself while waiting for the brace in his neck to soften. When it did, I lifted myself up, counted one second and stepped down to pet him for keeping four feet in the sand. I repeated this process on both sides, sometimes requiring a one-rein stop before putting my foot into the stirrup. And then, he softened, just a little. And I found a good place to end for the day.