The Beginnings

Powerful creatures spirited and free, stampeded through my mind during childhood. Great muscled rivers streamed through ancient canyons relentlessly bombarding my thoughts. Fluid bodies of molten steel magically entranced me, capturing me in daydreams as my heart sang quietly to the rhythm of hoof beats.

Like many young girls, I was “horse crazy.” Class art projects, writing assignments, books checked out from the school library ALL were opportunities to indulge my drivenness to dream about these mighty beings. Concerned by the so-called limitations imposed by my obsession, my third grade teacher, a throw-back from the Dark Ages, declared a prohibition from any more horse-focused school projects or assignments. Knocked down, but not destroyed, by the fourth grade—a new school with a new teacher—I was back in the saddle again with my fixation on all things equine.

The joys treasured merely in my art, writing, and reading as a youth became a living, breathing, daily reality many years later. At forty two years of age, my husband, our two children, and I moved to the country where we opened our lives to horse number one. The dream had come true.

My first equine partner was joined soon after by three more. I was deep and far into my reverie...and into my pocketbook. Horses were welcomed into our family life, wallet and backyard with absolute abandon and confidence—no, expectation—that together we would glide across fields, sashay through forests, and live out the most wonderful “happily ever after.”


The dream collided with reality abruptly the day my butt hit the ground with a thud. I had just had my first “flying lesson.”

“You mean, he doesn’t want to be ridden?”

I was aghast and deeply humbled to discover that my horses didn’t share the dream I had cherished for so long! It never occurred to me that they might not be just as excited to carry me on the trail as I was to be carried!

After applying myself to wisdom found excavating dozens of issues of Western Horseman magazines, researching the internet, and garnering the advice and suggestion of well-meaning friends, our family of four had, nevertheless, ended up with four horses that did not seem to be “trail ready.” This was disappointing at the very least. To insist on moving forward could be potentially dangerous. Yes, the first months with my horses were certainly different than I expected.

These wonderful animals weren’t just pretty “recreation vehicles” to do with as we pleased. They were living, breathing, sentient beings with opinions, concerns, and worries. In short order, Doc, Harley, Breezy and Dodger initiated the primary purpose for which they descended from On High into my life—that of teaching me life’s deepest, most profound lessons.

I am a better person because of my horse...

In January, I went for a ride on Harley when I was agitated -- wound up emotionally and he showed me in no uncertain terms that I must come to him a whole person, ok in my own skin. Rides before that day and immediately following that day were wonderful when I wasn't so upset about things. *That* day, however, was a rocket ride, ending with me bailing and, amazingly (and fortunately enough) landing on my feet and him coming to a halt...as if we had planned it together.

Today was a day my husband had planned on riding with us. First time in three
months--taking time off from work to do it. SPECIAL morning--great trail I found with someone else. But I was wound up emotionally--probably worse, even, than in January. Processing my emotions this morning was crazy...I was sad, then angry (easier than being sad, I guess) all about LOTS of issues going on with lots of
people I care about--our family's need to make decisions and so on, yet feeling"stuck."

There I was, an emotional basket case...I really wanted to go on this ride with my husband, but KNEW I couldn't ride Harley with the way I was feeling.

Clear as anything knew that, if I was going to have a safe ride, I had to CHOOSE to let all that stuff go...I didn't go into denial. Harley sees through that. I literally let the stuff go and chose to forgive, to release the agitation and rest in the peace that I know comes when I am ok in my skin and all is right with the world. Even writing it, it seems amazing. I don't know if it is a cosmic shift of perspective. The issues were (and are) still there, but somehow they aren't all consuming.

I am so glad I took care of this during our travel to the staging area. Harley knew the difference. I had one of the greatest rides ever on him. It was a new trail which typically is daunting for us...but he was great for it. Hubby had a good time. :-)

It struck me as we got back to the trailer how *good* I felt compared to how I felt as we hauled away from home...

My horse makes me a better person. What if I did this releasing thing, even when I am not riding? Maybe that is the point! :-)

Wounded Leader?

Harley and I had another nice ride yesterday with our "Summer of 2007 Babysitter," Kody, and his mom, Susan. So, things are "back to normal." Yay!

I have a friend who came up with a theory about why last Friday's ride with Harley might have been so off kilter. While it doesn't matter too terribly much why, I do like to analyze and try to learn from the possibilities.

As I shared previously in the blog, I came to my horse time on Friday deeply wounded by someone I had thought of as a friend. While I wasn't wearing it outward physically, emotionally, I was definitely "licking those wounds," being rather self absorbed and putting on a pretense. Harley sensed my woundedness.

Maybe horses don't discriminate between physical wounding and emotional wounding in people since their world isn't about that. So to him, I might have just been a mess...even a liability!

I can't imagine a herd of horses continuing to follow a lead mare if she had been gouged by a lion, was nursing her wounds, limping along pretending all was well...

Like the theoretical lead mare, I wasn't myself. Harley knew it. But I insisted on leading our partnership that day.

So, is it possible that it literally frightened Harley to have a "wounded leader" call the shots from his back?

Hmmm....thoughts?

What Will I Believe?

Have you ever believed lies so completely that they actually began to define a new truth?

On Friday, I was mulling over something someone had said about my horsemanship intentionally to wound me...it was a lie...but by rehearsing what she said over and over again in my head I began to believe the lie! For 48 hours I became what she ridiculed me as being...something that I had NOT been! During that 48 hours, my believing and owning the lies she said to me wreaked HAVOC with my horsemanship.

Waking up now, I have decided to reject the lies and to refocus my mind on truth.

I learned something very powerfully through this!

It was a continuation of what I experienced with Harley a week and a half ago. If I go to him with an agenda, with a lack of confidence, or a pretense, then he will see through it in nothing flat. On Friday, I even walked him to the trailer explaining, "Harley, you know that lady you really like? Well, she said some things to me that really have made me feel like garbage...and that is what she wanted! So today I need you to give me the benefit of the doubt and fill in for me." (Obviously, how much of this Harley actually understood is up for some debate. ;-) But giving my feelings a voice was cathartic for me certainly.)

What transpired was the single most challenging ride I have *ever* had with him--even going back 4 years ago! We started out nice and ended nice but everything in between was crazy...popping up, hippity skippity, crow hops, bucking, stomping of back feet...and my last maneuver looked a bit like a trick rider (well, not so graceful)...clinging for all I was worth with my right hand to his mane, my left hand to the rein on his sidepull on the left. My right leg was trying to hang over the saddle, left foot still in the stirrup...he was bucking as we cantered up a hill and I had to decide to plant my feet on the ground since it was clear I couldn't haul my sorry bum back up into the saddle. I was so angry, I was determined not to come off. As it became clear that my feet were going to be landing on the ground ahead of another part of my anatomy, I was concerned that I would be dragged...as I was NOT going to let go! Besides, if I let go, I would have the potential of falling in the way of Harley's back feet and being pummelled. NOT a good thing.

Miraculously, as I allowed my feet to touch the ground on his left side (I was facing his tail, if you can picture it), he came to a dead STOP. Thankfully.

Having gotten the brace out of his system, I praised him for not freaking out more for having me cling to his left side so desperately. I then took some deep breaths and remounted. We rode the rest of the way back to the trailer at a nice calm walk.

All of this came out ok, but I cried the entire way home. I was positive that the nasty person whose lies I had believed would be laughing with glee if she could see me.

After thinking and praying through this a bit, I realized that by believing those lies I had effectively changed. After 6 rides the previous week, four of which were on the trail--and all on the trail were AWESOME--I knew that the negotiable thing...the variable had been me...what I believed about me and my horsemanship. It was that simple. And all because of a ridiculous thing that someone said to wound me! Go figure!

So after Harley and I took Saturday off, this morning, we got up bright and early and hubby and I headed out for a one hour ride. Same place. I talked with hubby about what I was bringing to this ride that was going to be different from Friday's ride. I wanted to focus on the positive. But more than that...I don't buy thinking "positive" unless it is TRUTH. So I brought that to the ride, too. What was truth was great enough that I didn't need to drum up something fake.

Since May of 2007 when Harley came back from Melissa's (my trainer) Harley and I have ridden the trail at least 140 times. In all that time, there has been some excitement, sure, but never has there been a ride like the one we had on Friday. I have been in process the entire time. Surely I lacked confidence more earlier on in our journey together...but Friday I was trying to fake it. He is used to me being there for him--to whatever capacity I can be. He knows if I am not *able* to be there and am doing my best. But Friday, I wasn't bringing what he knew I could bring. I wasn't reliable. I wasn't predictable. I wasn't as confident as I typically am. I couldn't be. I was too busy being caught up in my own drama. Believing the lie that I am a rotten horse-mom and lousier horsewoman.

This morning, I returned to what was true. I refocused, recentered, and rehearsed the truth in my head over and over again to the point of believing it again, so all was right in our world together. We had the quietest ride we have ever had, in fact. It was peaceful as the sun came up.

What did I take from this?

What do I believe about myself? About my horsemanship? About how my horses respond to it all? How shakable are these beliefs? Can one difficult experience, one rude comment topple all of it down? I need to be more tenacious than that!

Or if I have a ride that challenges me, or if, when I am handling one of my other horses--Doc--I feel like he is taller than a 3 story building and has no idea I am on this planet...will that now define my horsemanship? My skill? All the things I have learned? Does that one experience somehow minimize or negate all the incredible learning moments that have preceded it?

No. I have learned through this experience to guard my heart, my mind, my horsemanship...to decide what I will believe. I guess in a strange way I am glad that the person said to me what she did. I learned an incredibly valuable lesson through this. One that I will not soon forget. My horses and I will be better for my having learned it.

Example of Matter of Fact-ness

Wow. WOW! Today was something. Another significant day in the life...

Someone I know asked me if I would like her to pony Doc off of her horse, while I ride Breezy behind. I jumped at the chance! But I wondered about going to Omstead...Saturday morning at 10:30am...beautiful weather...typical crowds out there. Would it be too much for Doc? For me????? This was like graduate school!

The first thing that was obvious to me was that this was going to be a definite lesson before my very eyes in what Tom Moates refers to as "matter of factness." Given my own recent struggle with this, I was all eyes and ears to see where this would go.

The person I rode with (who I will call "P."), got saddled up and came on over to get Doc and off they went to march around the parking lot while I finished getting saddled. Matter of factness.

The first thing I noticed was P. didn't expect anything but the best from Doc. She just was going to do what she was going to do and she invited him to do it with her and she seemed to fully expect him to "have a good time" as he did! "Matter of factness"...definitely!

To P., all was going to be ok. She was so "matter of fact" about all of this. She was just ponying another in a long line of horses (she used to be a trainer) and Doc would be just fine. That was in her head--I have NO doubt of it. She announced that they were heading off to go meet a group of bicyclists and laughing and hollering kids...Doc in tow. "Matter of factness" again.

"This is what we DO on the trail, Doc. We come out and see everyone and say hi and head down the trail. No biggee."

The second thing I really noticed was that Doc sure didn't seem to be shut down. He was taking in everything that was going on and my friend and her INCREDIBLE horse were rocks. Doc had reliable, confident leaders to follow.

Even so, when P. picked the trail that parallels the highway with loud trucks and cars, I was sort of surprised. We were heading OUT what one of my riding friends "affectionately" calls "Death Alley." :-/ (See why it is a good thing that *I* wasn't ponying him? LOL!) This trail not only parallels the highway, but it is bordered on both sides by barbed wire! Crazy, huh?

Doc's brain flitted in and out of his head probably for the first mile. But so did Breezy's. Actually, I think Breezy's brain left the building and never returned except to check in for carrots.

I think Doc saw the Great Wide Open and just wanted to run! If Doc pushed forward past P.'s horse or acted like he was going to blow by, my friend, who had requested that we use a flat web halter for this (not what I would have done, but it worked beautifully) would simply tell him "Eeeh Eh!" and snake the rope a bit. He got the hang of that pretty quickly and decided he didn't want that. I was amazed at just how UNagitated it made him yet it was effective. It was like the times I tried this I was too big and too nasty...too freaked and scared to be willing to try to "speak" so kindly to him or something. P. assumed the best and got the best...Doc definitely responded well to the way she did things.

Another thing I noticed was the softness in P.'s hands. She may not have a clue who Harry Whitney is, but she values and does things that I think are important. I watched how she used her hands on the line with Doc. She would "start where she wanted to end up" with her requests. She asked nice and soft and I was amazed at how quickly Doc began to understand that. It didn't take much for him to respond to what she asked.

At one point, Doc seemed to just get irritated that his thoughts to take off running or to eat grass were being blocked by the idea of moseying down the trail. He reared up and kicked out at Breezy and me. I don't think he *meant* anything by it as he missed by a country mile, but he definitely made his opinion known. P. rebuked him sharply. Nothing too mean or anything, but I was so intrigued at how Doc seemed to totally understand the meaning behind it. P. followed this with a lot of loving on Doc. He loves that stuff especially and seemed genuinely "sorry" (just being a big anthropomorphic here!). He didn't do it again.

Once again, what struck me was how little it took to convey her message...and how responsive Doc was. P. was "matter of fact." This will show him that isn't acceptable. And it sure seemed to.

After a mile or two, he settled into things pretty well. He even began to really use his hind-end to carefully go down the hills and up the hills as well instead of jigging. It was wonderful to see. At a few points, P. even asked her horse for a nice little trot and Doc stayed right next to him trotting at just the right pace. I was so proud of him.

P. kept asking me about when I was going to take the lead and pony him. I was terrified of having a wreck. I knew that I would bring all my baggage (including one failed ponying attempt relatively recently) to the lead line and I didn't want to do anything to change the nice calm, positive experience Doc was having.

Finally, P. insisted. I did ok with that for a short while...until a mule and two cattle dogs came along. I saw them coming and eagerly handed Doc's lead line back to P.

More matter-of-factness...P. asked the mule and dog owners if she could have Doc meet them. I would have been terrified of a wreck. In fact, I was! Breezy really felt he should get to sniff noses with the mule, too, so I tried to get him out of harm's way. (See how I expect the worst? I simply have to learn to take my thoughts captive when I am with the horses!)

Doc, mule, dogs and P.'s horse all did very well with the introductions. And P., too. ;-)

We headed on down the trail. My commentary about the trail to P. was "And this is the first place that Doc ever bucked with me 4 years ago..." "...And this is the last place where he did buck me off..." and so on. I have to stop remembering that stuff out there!

The crossing in this photograph is one of our formerly troubled spots. P. walked him in there...and he drank some water, then pawed at the water and acted like he wanted to play. "Matter of factness" again...

As we continued on, we heard a helicopter circling... pretty low, too. It was clear that it was trying to land probably in the staging area or close by. As we got back to the parking lot, it was taking off. P. calmly stopped and Doc and P's horse (and Breezy too) did great for it, even though the helicopter was pretty low and veered off just slightly away from us. It was almost over the top of us.

Matter of factness...again.

This entire ride (about five and a half miles) was definitely an up close and personal look at "matter of factness." It must be cool to work with a horse that you don't have a history with and be able to expect the best. I just want to do that with my own horses in spite of our history. And besides...when I think about it...we had a whole HOST of "successes" that I have "forgotten" about...or that I have let our "rodeo moments" wipe the memory of from my mind. Why IS that? I mean, if we went out there maybe 60 times and only 6 of those were rodeo days...why don't I remember the 54 rides where Doc was a rock? Where I rode him bareback, with a halter and we were passed by 20 riders in group, for instance? Or when bicycles flew over the rise just ahead of us and he held it together? Why is it so easy to forget all of those things?

After getting home and feeding the horses lunch, I called P. to ask if she wanted to go back out for another ride. She has another horse to work with and I wanted to ride Harley. She said yes...that we could meet back out there again for a short ride...but when she went to catch up her horse, he had thrown a shoe. So I was either on my own or not riding.

I decided I needed to try my own hand at "matter of factness" again.

My thoughts went something like this: "Harley, you will love what we are going to do. We will have a blast together. Just you and me. Our favorite part of the Omtsead. I am taking a bunch of carrots and you will be spoiled. You will be just like Doc was today...totally loved on and enjoy every minute."

Interesting thing...he got right in the trailer instead of the usual hesitation. I tacked him up and off we went. We walked, trotted, cantered, transitioned up and down almost without incident...well, he crow-hopped, too. :-) I think it was exuberance.

It was just a short ride, but I felt like it was a good trial for me being "matter of fact" with Harley. I think he actually enjoyed himself. I know I did!!!

Whee...sort of!

Yesterday, hubby and I had another wonderful ride. It was cold and foggy as we went out early, but coming back the sun was coming out and so were droves of people!

We chose an unfamiliar trail with lots of ups and downs heading to the river. We cantered and trotted some of it in little bits. Harley seemed to love the combination...and that I was asking *him* for the pace he loves...instead of him asking me (repeatedly) and me saying (repeatedly), “Not now, Harley.”

After meandering along the river, coming back up, I let Harley go...for the first time ever really...my idea to go as fast as he wanted (safely). Off we went.

As we blitzed along out on the trail, I exulted...”This is what I dreamed of...this is what I have dreamed of...WHEEE!!!!!” (Never mind how immature this is...just being honest! LOL!)

I have worked with Harley a lot this week. Monday was another nice ride at Kronan...different trail for much of the way than today. Then Tues. and Weds. I worked with him at the arena trying to get some things accomplished. Those sessions were discouraging to me...and I doubted that yesterday at Kronan would be positive because of that, but chose to do it anyhow. One year ago, I was too intimidated by Harley to ride him out there, so had borrowed a friend’s horse to ride with hubby on January 1st. Yesterday was definitely an earmark day for me. It may be winter. Harley may be fat and sassy, but we DID it! Warts and all! Uglies and all! I loved it!

I am celebrating how far we have come. I am thrilled. In fact, my first ride on Harley (after all our accidents two years prior) in May 2007 is at this link. Yesterday was much different than that ride where I was scared to let go of the fence railing...I have Melissa to thank for much of it! Here is a link to part 3 of an ugly video taken in August, but it does, at least show that I wasn’t holding fence rail...I was trying to convince Harley I was trying to let go of the reins and he could have his face freely...I wanted him to go. It was our first time cantering at the arena ever (for some reason, that intimidated me even when the trail didn’t....)

Yesterday, out on the trail, I literally gave him his head...several times...and loved it.

For those moments, I guess I chose to set aside my doubts that this is best...he seems so much happier and calmer when I invite him up into the pace that he enjoys...I have often wondered WHY he enjoys being so “forward.” But with all the breathing and willingness to offer me his thought, to soften at my rein request, I don’t think he was “upset” wanting to move his feet because of angst. I have seen what that looks and feels like. Yet I know that people I respect, admire and friends I ride with who also respect the same trainers/clinicians would not encourage what I did today. Yet...I had a blast and I think Harley did, too...or some equine version of it.

Still the doubt is there...

Often at clinics I have audited/participated in, I see at least one participant spend a good chunk of time talking to the clinician about an internal struggle like this...almost like a therapy session. The theme of these talking sessions often seems to be this very thing...the question of how what seems to work best, feel best, in many ways...can it possibly BE best? The question often seems to be, “Is there a way in which I am doing something (negative) TO the horse by the very things/approach that I think he enjoys/responds to best?”

There are things I war with inside of me like these clinic participants...For instance, in my case, do “calm” and “soft” have to consistently happen at the walk and trot before we can ever canter out on the trail? If I can’t get his thought back mid-stride, is that cause to go back to the drawing board? What if his thought seems more prone to leave when I haven’t yet allowed him to move forward...but if I give him that at the beginning of a ride, he is much more dialed in to my page after that? He seems to be a totally different horse when I have let him move forward more, able to go at the walk. Able to give up a thought and change to a thought I am asking him to consider...If I keep him in “the box,” trying for all I am worth to find “softness” yet his thought is “out there out there” simply because he wants to move out...and if once I let him do that, he can give me the rest...is it so wrong to go that route? I can’t figure this out.

If I simplified it all down, what I really *want* to be able to do is go any pace at any time and feel him happy and content with me happy and content. ...and safe. What I have been trying repeatedly for most of the 19 months we have been doing this, for whatever reason, hasn’t worked. We have progressed in what we do together, but I don't feel like much of it feels good to him. When I go out to the pasture to catch him, he is a bit reluctant. Sometimes more willing than others, but typically somewhat reluctant.

As we cantered along yesterday, he stretched out, breathed, blew out... and...well...it all seemed nice...and it seemed like what I have been dreaming of...

Yet something in me is feeling like I may be blowing it if I allow this to go on.

I just want to let it all go and holler WHEE!!!!!

SwooOOOOning!

I am swooning... right now, it is for Breezy. The lady that has done the body work on my horses emailed me and asked if I wanted to head out this morning on a ride. BEAUTIFUL weather. I decided to take Breezy. My friend had her 5 year old and Breezy is good to have with me for that...He keeps his head about himself when Jester, the baby horse, suddenly becomes “Twister” and does a spin over a duck that takes off or something.

Today it was walking through ice covering a pond crossing...Jester did go a bit bonkers...but Breezy stood still and waited for Jester to reclaim his brain. Then he calmly asked my friend for a carrot. :-) Her belief about “the thought of the horse” is that if she keeps carrots in her pommel pack that she just needs to unzip the zipper at any point in time and presto...the thought of the horse returns. LOL! She has a point, I must admit.

Today, I got to enjoy the fruit of all the body work that my friend has done on Breezy--a most deserving horse. Breezy was feeling so good. He wanted to move out and he just simply seemed to be having a great time. He offered to canter numerous times and did a little kick out that seemed totally gleeful! It was amazing...I am just loving it. He was such good boy. My friend is an endurance rider, but you would never know her horses are endurance horses. I guess I am prejudiced against “typical endurance” because it typically means hollow back, high head and scrawny. Her horses carry themselves beautifully and are VERRRY “thick.” (Well muscled and then some...) She is trying to convince me that Breezy and I could babysit her and Jester on their first 25 mile endurance ride in the Spring. After today, I am just silly enough to believe it. :-)

And to think that Breezy used to be retired!

Heidi
(Who is heading out to the arena now to try to see what is up with Harley.)