New website!

I'm excited to announce a brand new website, and thus some changes in this blog.

Here is the latest entry on my blog, which is now located on my website (rather than the blogspot address). www.threerivershorsetraining.com   Please make sure that you head over there, and to facebook, to receive my updates from now on!

----------www.threerivershorsetraining.com

Welcome to the new 3R website! I'm so happy to have celebrated my fifth anniversary with Three Rivers Horse Training and all of the wonderful horses and humans that have joined my 3R family in this time. I decided that as an anniversary gift to myself and to the business, a new website was in order!

When I was writing a business plan and designing a website for Three Rivers Horse Training in 2008 and and 2009, I was just hoping to create a business where I could ride horses all day and make enough money to feed myself. I knew that my aspirations as a horse person were high enough that I needed to be working horses all day, every day, to begin to make a dent in my goals. The best way I knew how to do this was to start working horses for the public. So I took a leap of faith and started a business. I created a website that felt like me, felt like the beautiful Grey Cliffs Ranch, felt like Montana, and hopefully felt like something everyone with a horse might like!

Well I have been so lucky, because it worked. Five years later I have ridden A LOT of horses. I have learned more than I ever could have imagined I could learn in just five years. My aspirations are only greater now, and I know I better keep doing this!

But a couple things happened that I wasn't expecting. The first, was I got to know myself in ways I didn't see coming. I have been so inspired by the horses and the humans around me, that I have really begun to learn who I am, both in and out of the round pen. In doing so, I learned what I have to offer this world and the horses in it, and I also learned what I am not. That is one reason why I felt so strongly I needed a new "look" for my business. One that wasn't that of me five years ago, just wanting to convince people to hire me. But of me now, a person who is truly and utterly in love with the horse (I thought I was five years ago! I was wrong, because THIS is love. Hopefully five years from now I can say the same). I know that I am not the trainer for everyone, because with hiring me you get a passion and a love that is a little bit...intense. I now know I am incapable of compromise when it comes to this love and so I need the right clients around me that love their horses as much as I do.

And this leads me to the second magical thing that has happened. Three Rivers Horse Training became something separate from me. It became not just a business, but a feeling. I love when I'm traveling at a clinic and a group of us are chatting and someone talks about the 3R page on Facebook and what is happening there. Or how they heard Alex in their ear when they were working a horse or talking to their husband or playing with their kids. As if somehow I, the person who writes this blog, and Alex and 3R are not all the same thing! But we aren't. Because this has taken on a life of its own. This business, this life, this philosophy, is alive and well at my barn in Three Forks living with my boarders while I am in Arizona. It is alive in Billings where there is a huge contingent of 3R riders who love and support each other in ways I find remarkable, even when I haven't had a clinic there in a while. It lives in the workplaces of all of my clients who tell me stories about how they have changed how they deal with co-workers after they reflected on their horsemanship. It is in relationships between friends and spouses that are reconsidering how they treat each other based on their work with the horses. It is in the parenting I hear people talk about, and how they are considering how to raise their children in a thoughtful and engaged manner after becoming so committed to that with their horses.

It is truly remarkable and such an honor to see this thing become something separate from me. I can't begin to express how thankful I am to have heard the stories I've heard, to have been a part of relationships, both human and equine, as they grow, and in turn to have been shaped and inspired myself.

So I hope that this website, and the changes I am making to structure my business, can reflect all of these moments and blessings. I hope that business can reflect life and life can reflect learning and learning can reflect horses. Because there seems to me nothing more pure and flawed and lovely than working with a horse!

Thank you all for making the last five years the best five years of my life. I'm so excited to see what is next.

Forward

One of the projects I have given my intern Bree is to figure out how to get a horse to walk trot and canter with no flee, without using her legs or saddle strings or any sort of driving force. I started her on this project with a filly thatI had done the foundation work and first four rides on, and told her to figure out how to teach this horse to lope. This project was as much for Bree's learning as the horse, and of course I have no problem using aids, but this concept I think is really life changing.

She did it! And the changes in her horsemanship have been huge (plus, that filly is riding like a pro!). Any ideas how she did it?

Here is Bree on a different horse, Grace, working on something similar out in the field.

Experience

I have been thinking lately about what the foundation to my horsemanship is, or is becoming.  What is the core understanding that drives each decision I make with a horse?  In the simplest terms, what does everyone need to start thinking about before they begin this type of journey with a horse?

I think it is the understanding that the horse has an experience that is not the same as my experience.  

When I first read this sentence, it sounds utterly ridiculous.  Of course my horse has an experience that is not my experience.  They are ALIVE after all!  But when I think about how horses exist in this world, what they are for, how they are treated, and the decisions we have all made at one point or another, I realize that this concept is incredibly profound.

Horses are generally seen in terms that are relative to us.  A horse has a good day if we enjoy the ride.  A horse is well built if he can perform what we want him to perform.  A horse has earned her keep if she has done the job we have given her that day.  A horse is brave if he goes past something that we think would scare him.  A horse is smart if she accomplishes the task we provide.  A horse is stupid or stubborn if he doesn’t want to do what we think is important. 

But, maybe that wasn’t their experience at all.  Maybe the horse had a bad day because of that ride, you just enjoyed it because they chose to cope.  What if a horse has trouble with how he chews his food or has aches and pains we don’t know about, but because he wins ribbons, we say he is well built.  Perhaps a horse that is held captive inside fences deserves her dinner whether or not she goes for a ride.  Maybe that thing didn’t take much bravery to go past, because it wasn’t very scary at all and he understood what it was, and that’s why he wasn’t afraid.  It’s possible that the horse is not particularly smart, and while she can accomplish the task she’s told to do if given very few options, if she were left to figure out how to manage her own decisions, she would struggle.  Maybe that horse isn’t stubborn and stupid, but actually very smart, and doesn’t want to do something that makes no sense to him.

Horses have their own lives.  They are forced to participate in ours, but they have their own experiences, own ideas, heartbreaks, successes, worries and moments of both sheer brilliance and complete confusion.  It seems so simple, but to take the moment and think, I wonder what this horse’s experience is of this moment, can radically change how you might respond.  Suddenly, that horse who won’t go isn’t stubborn, but worried, and petting that behavior seems a lot more practical than kicking it.  Sometimes noticing that a horse is involved in something else in the world, rather than being haltered, even though they are standing still to be caught, changes how quickly you do it. 

The realization that a horse’s experience is not the same as our experience may be the most obvious and life changing realization of our horsemanship journey.  I think it is so profound that it cannot help but change every interaction from then on.  To separate our experience from that of the horse brings an ability to empathize with their feelings, even if those feelings are inconvenient for our plans and goals.  

For me, it changes the start point and the end point.  I start by considering the horse, and end wherever that takes me.  I have had to let go of a lot of the things I loved about riding a horse that did not locate the horse in the moment, and find new (and greater) appreciation for things that do.  I think I find pleasure in smaller things than I used to.  I think I laugh more around the horses than I used to.  I think my understanding and appreciation for the horse has grown in ways I didn’t expect, and I have come to realize how sophisticated and funny and incredible these animals really are.  I thought I already knew all of that, but I didn’t.  I’m excited to share many more experiences with many more horses, and I’m sure my love for them will only continue to grow.

First time feeling.

Last week while I was sitting on a filly for the first time, I got to talking with the photographer watching about what she observed as the horse taking comfort when I picked up a rein. That we had already established a feel between us, so even though me being on her was new, she was easily able to find comfort in me despite my new position above her. I've been thinking about how this has changed in me as I've started colts over the years. I now spend less time getting them okay with me being on them, and more time getting them to feel like I have something to offer them. Being able to get on them, having a soft feel between us, helping them to understand how to think in front of them, steer, change speeds, etc, and supporting them when something is scary, just happens after that.

At the end of a first ride (or, at the end of any session, really), I want the horse to be brighter eyed and more confident with me around and in themselves than when we started the day.

Here I am leaning over to give an enthusiastic rub to this filly, for bravely allowing me to climb up on her. It never ceases to amaze me that they let me do this, and no matter how many colts I start, I get such a kick out of it every time I put a first ride on a horse. And, it's certainly not an adrenaline rush, because it's usually pretty boring!

Intensity without worry?

Today is my last day in Utah, and over the last few days I've had quite the introduction to what's going on in the dog world right now. I have been surrounded by a huge variety of trainers, and learning about the various schools of thought that are popular at the moment. I've never thought about dog training in such a structured way, because it is not my livelihood, so it's been wonderful to really immerse myself among so many trainers.

Last night at a BBQ, some bite dogs were pulled out and I got to watch their trainers working them. I certainly was surprised to see some of the softest moments I've seen occur with these animals. That was not what I expected. I have very little exposure to sporting dogs of any sort, but what I have seen in a general sense has been a level of chaos and worry in a very driven dog that makes me rather uncomfortable. The same feeling I get when watching most competitive horses, in any equine sport. The animals are often amazingly obedient, but have to be pretty upset inside to perform at the intensity level desired.

But the dogs I saw yesterday had been trained by some very thoughtful trainers, and I loved seeing the moments where the dogs could be engaged and certainly intense, but absolutely present. It wasn't worry that was driving them. 

What's so interesting about interest?

It seems that all the time, I’m thinking about and discussing what we are trying to cultivate in a horse when working with them.  I say things like “directing the thought” and “being soft” and “taking an interest.”  But what does that really look like?????

Tonight my husband, Tye, came in with a story that really struck me as what this philosophy is really all about.  So I will brag about his creativity for a moment!  I’ve been giving Tye regular lessons with his young mule, Slim, who is about ready to get going under saddle.  Slim, however, would really just like to party all the time.  Who can blame him?  Tye’s recent challenge has been that Slim would prefer not going back into the pen after a session (Tye may be the only person in equine history to have an animal that will run to him to be caught, go wherever he likes, and then throw a fit when it’s time to go back in the large pen with the other horses!).  There is green grass and way more to do outside his paddock than inside it, so Slim wonders what the point of going home really is?

As anyone who has ever played with a mule before knows, when a mule gets a thought, it gets a BIG thought.  And if you match that big thought with any sort of muscle, well, good luck to you.  Tye spends his days with tractors and hammers, and was unpleasantly surprised to find that Slim didn’t really care how hard he pulled on the lead.  Slim was staying at the party, not going home.  Last weekend, I demonstrated to Tye how I would handle this.  I spent time getting Slim’s thought to go forward, regardless of what happened with his feet.  Every time his eyes got bright, his ears went forward, and he showed a glimmer of interest in the right direction, he got a pet.  The take home message for Tye was how little strength any of this required on my part, because I was cultivating the thought, not the feet.  Before you know it, Slim walked quietly and purposefully through the green grass and into his pen.  I think Tye could have killed me!

Instead of domestic dispute, though, Tye thought on it.  When he next went to practice the reentering the pen, he said there were a few times he almost got in a fight, but was able to work his way through it.  But then something magical happened (at least magical to me…I don’t think Tye or Slim would describe it as such!).  Tye said he was reaching a point where he wasn’t sure what to do.  So he swung the big gate shut to take Slim for a little walking break.  When the gate swung shut, it bounced a bit off the post, and caused a vibration, which caught Slim’s attention.  Slim became very curious about the vibration, and was looking right at the gate Tye wanted him to go through! So, in a stroke of what I would call genius, Tye pet him.  He asked for him to go towards that interest, which Slim did.  He opened the gate a bit, and Slim got worried about going through, so Tye shut it and caused it to vibrate.  He repeated this.  Each time Slim got worried about going through the gate and leaving the party side of the fence, Tye would vibrate the gate, Slim would get interested, and Tye would pet him.  He said before he knew it, Slim was walking through the gate just as nice as can be! No fighting necessary.

I think this is such a valuable lesson.  It shows that none of this situation had to do with Slim’s feet, or Tye’s strength.  Just where Slim was interested, and if he was allowed to pursue that interest.  Tye did exactly what I had done. He cultivated an interest until Slim wanted to pursue it.  While I made a bit of noise or put a bit of a feel on the rope, Tye just slammed a gate so it vibrated.  No difference.  They all caught Slim’s attention.  Tye probably was smarter about the situation than I was, because he didn’t have to work so hard to catch his attention, or worry much about timing, because he noticed something that did it easily! So here, Tye used the mule’s ability to have a big thought to his advantage!

When we are working our horses (or mules) it is so important to remember that if they wanted to, they can do everything we ask of them.  But why would they want to? Just like Slim wanted to stay out in party-land (i.e: not his paddock), every moment a horse is alive they have feelings, desires, and ideas.  Why fight that? Isn’t that what we love about them? I know that the reason I choose to ride horses and not a motorcycle is because I absolutely love the emotions, the tries, and the intelligence that radiates from a horse.  It is simply a matter of making the ideas we have, their ideas.  We have to direct their thoughts and change their feelings, so that they can take an interest in what we would like them to take an interest in.  This isn’t something that can be done with force, because this is something that is willingly given by the horse.  You can’t force me to be interested in something.  You can force me to do something, but not to be interested in it.  I have to have a reason, a motivation, a desire, in order to be truly interested, and not simply obedient. 

I don’t know why the vibrating gate was so fascinating to Slim, and I hope in the future if Tye continues to cultivate this, the gate won’t need to be there.  Slim will decide that whatever Tye suggests is interesting, truly is interesting, just because he trusts that Tye knows what he’s talking about in that department.  That’s really what my goal is every time I’m with an animal.  For them to feel confident enough in our relationship that if I suggest they take an interest in something, they are excited to do it, and their effort is genuine.  

Our animals must freely give their thoughts to us, because they cannot be taken.  So it is up to us to figure out how to be important enough, interesting enough, and trustworthy enough, to deserve them.

Here's Slim.  Taking an interest.

Dog Life

Took a little break from the horses yesterday afternoon and got to work this troubled pit bull that is in training with Kelly Engel over at Know Thy Dog training. Here a couple shots where I am working on getting him to let go of a thought and pick up one of mine. He has a really hard time with this and freezes with very heavy thoughts. When one of these heavy thoughts is interrupted in a big way...well that's when it gets exciting. This situation is very much like many horses that buck, and I handled it similarly, though with some dog specific moments.

Please note he is safely muzzled. This was great because he and I could work through those troubled moments safely

A Motley Crew

I have quite a collection of scrappy horses of my own. Here are my three rejects. All free horses...but far from cheap! In the lead is my black mare from California, ears pinned as usual despite clearly controlling the entire round of playful activities with these boys. She came into my life with a lot of behavioral issues and a strange disease called temporohyoid osteoarthropathy. She and I have been through a lot and she has taught me more than one horse should be able to! The buckskin is my wonderful one eyed lesson horse, Keller, who came to me due to his severe uveitis symptoms, that caused the eye loss and the compromised other eye. He is my loyal business partner and I'm so thankful for what he patiently teaches my students! And picking up the rear is Bob, my troubled yet charming Midwestern bred Saddlebred that definitely makes me smile every day, and the barn would feel empty without.

I think I get more pleasure from seeing these unlikely rejects whose lives could have turned out so much differently, enjoy an afternoon loose and happy than I do from riding any horse around. For me, the riding is just an activity to do with a horse, not the point of having them around. Watching them live happy, healthy lives and loving it when they choose to come running over when they see me, because they are genuinely looking forward to a scratch, is such a great feeling.

The two photos with some green grass are from yesterday's rainy day. We all woke up a little less playful when we saw the white stuff everywhere!

Belated Mother's Day Post

For Mother's Day.

You know you are surrounded by animal lovers when recently at a clinic of mine, one woman was talking about how she had recently adopted a baby. One of the first questions in response was, "What kind of baby?!" And the new mom answered without hesitation, "A baby human!"

Happy Mother's Day! Whether your babies have four legs or two legs, your love and caring is appreciated.

The Weight of the World

I was recently reading an article about canine training and the evolution of both dogs and popular training methods, and something struck me about how the article defined a dog versus a wolf.  One of the genetic traits that the article pointed to that separated the dogs we have in our homes from their closely related wolf ancestors was that a dog faced with a problem will instinctually look to a human for support, even if there are other dogs around.
    I think this is true of domesticate bred horses as well. I don’t know if the science exists, but I certainly see this try all of the time in horses.  A horse that has little to no human experience will still engage with a person if given the chance, and when presented a problem will quickly turn towards the human as a solution if they are left the room to search.  When I think of how powerful this is, how much hardwired trust and interest there must be for this to occur, it is staggering to me, because with all great powers come great responsibilities.  What does it mean that there are animals in this world that have a faith in the human so deep inside of them, it is literally written into their genes?  What does it mean for us as humans interacting with these critters? 
    It inspires me.  It inspires me to try to be there the first time, and every time, they look to me.  I want to be a better communicator, so that I have something to offer back when they offer me their trust.  I want to be ready for this profound challenge, so that their faith will grow in me.  I often think about how I hope I can make it clear to the animal I’m handling, that their only job is to watch me.  My job, is to worry about everything else.  This is a tricky subject to navigate.  How to be clear and fair, and demonstrate that I am worthy of their trust, but not slide down that slippery slope where our relationship shifts from one of an engaged and interested animal, to one that is without emotions, and is simply obedient.  But, if this engagement is there, and cultivated, what a relief it would be, it could be, to have someone take the weight of the world off their shoulders!  How clear and easy it must feel to know that, under any circumstance, they should follow their domesticated instincts and look to the human, and the human will never fail, so there is no reason to worry about life when with a person.
    It also intimidates me, because I worry about what will happen when I miss those requests for guidance.  What happens when a core belief is disproven?  Can the animal forgive and ask again, or will they now always have a bit of doubt in them that wasn’t there when they were born, telling them that they might actually be on their own?  I think about this all the time, because I don’t want to be paralyzed by this thought.  Over and over, I see that animals do both of these things; they forgive, and they also retain that sliver of doubt.  For some reason, in most their capacity to forgive seems to outweigh all else when given a reason.  When I watch someone present to their animal that they are willing to take on the weight of the world, so that the animal may just live in the moment with the person, no matter how many years their roles have been reversed, it almost never fails that the animal accepts that offer.  So I suppose the responsibility is always, and completely, on us to know how to make that offer clearly, because the animal is always just waiting for it.

Sensory Overload

My husband, Tye, and I were recently in Chicago, where I grew up.  He is a fifth generation Montanan, and whenever we travel to a city, we inevitably begin discussing how differently our early experiences cause us to experience the world.  From experiencing time and distance to processing and filtering information.
    Whenever we talk about this, the last point, filtering information, makes me think about horses and the process I witness so many go through while in training with me.  Tye has always noted that I have what he views to be an unreasonable ability to block out things that are not important to me at that moment.  A television that is on but I’m not watching, a change in my usual view while driving between the barn and the house, and so on.  Tye on the other hand, takes in so much sensory information, that I kid with him that he needs to learn that not everything is about him!  Or, at least not important to him.  We credit these differences to the environment in which we were raised.  I spent time in an urban environment, where if one takes in all of the sensory information available (lights, noises, smells, etc) one would never get to sleep and would be overwhelmed all the time.  Tye grew up in a quieter, more rural environment, where there wasn’t a lot of miscellaneous noise.  If a car drove by, it was likely it was coming to see him or his neighbors, not just through traffic.  And certainly a siren going by at night was reason to wake up.
    I’ve been living in a range of somewhat to extremely rural environments now for going on eight years.  In this time, I have learned that I should try not to filter so much information out, because that causes me to miss things.  However, I’m still very good at blocking out the insane amount of birds that live in the rafters of my indoor arena, and I still miss most of what Tye notices.  Tye, however, hasn’t spent much time in a city.  When we visit one, he feels overwhelmed by sensory information, and after a few days feels drained and exhausted.  It all feels important to him, even though much of it isn’t.
    What could this possibly have to do with horses? A lot, but in this article I am going to specifically discuss the shut down horse and the spooky horse, which I believe are on the same spectrum.  A shut down horse is not taking in any information.  They have figured out that the best way to survive is to tolerate and not to engage.  What people often think of as a spooky horse, is taking in too much information, as they are not confident and centered enough to know what matters and what does not.  However, I find they are the same, as a shut down horse will spook violently when something does penetrate their consciousness (they can’t block it out any more) because they weren’t processing everything leading up to it, so it was a surprise that they don’t know what to do with.  It’s just that what most people describe to me as a spooky horse is a horse that spooks in rapid succession, and so I just read this as it takes less to penetrate their consciousness, but they are still just as shut down, and not filtering information properly.
    To put it another way.  A shut down horse (in the classical, bombproof-until-he-wasn’t sense) is me growing up in an urban environment.  I learned that taking everything in was dangerous, and didn’t make me feel good, so I learned to only let certain things in.  But, if something really out of the ordinary happened, I could be very surprised!  For instance, if there were a tree down in the road, Tye might notice it a quarter mile away because the skyline wasn’t quite right, I might not notice it until I ran it over with my car.  That thump would certainly be startling!  This skill of shutting down and shutting out is a great form of self preservation.  Until it’s not.
    The horse that is spooking every step at even the leaf fluttering, is Tye in a city.  He doesn’t realize that the leaf is not important to his life at that moment, and responds as if it has the same importance, and offers the same threat, as if a lion stepped over the hill.  This isn’t necessarily because the leaf is scary (just like Tye is not actually overwhelmed every time he hears a car drive by), but because the state of mind is not calm and confident enough to be able to notice the leaf, and decide that it isn’t important or a threat at that moment.  This is why flooding a spooking horse won’t solve the problem.  It will simply push the horse a little bit further towards the shut down end of the spectrum, by giving it one more thing it learns to block out.  It is also why horses spook at seemingly unimportant things.  It has nothing to do with the thing they are spooking at, but at the mindset they having while processing it (or not processing it).  It’s worth noting, Tye’s pretty nervous in the city, so when all this information comes in, none of it seems comforting.  Not unlike a horse that isn’t wholly okay with being ridden or led by a person.
    Often I see horses go through this spectrum during training that make it seem like they are getting worse before getting better.  An extremely shut down horse might move towards the spooky end of the spectrum as they begin to wake up.  This is like if I, being shut down from a city, then decided to consciously notice more while outside of the city, and suddenly was paranoid of everything because my practiced filters were removed.  Quite literally, I regularly see horses that are considered bombproof by their owners become hyper-vigilant spooky messes after a few days of training.  This could be very discouraging to someone watching, but the first time that bombproof horse (who, obviously wasn’t always bombproof or wouldn’t be in training) spooks unnecessarily at a bird I am generally elated.  FINALLY! They noticed the bird.
    Now comes the next step.  Taking this now awake horse, and teaching them to be confident enough in themselves (and in me, as the person asking them to go somewhere) to know what is important sensory information, and what is not, and not to panic when something comes up that is unexpected.  What we want is a horse somewhere in between me and Tye.  A horse that notices most everything, so they aren’t taken by surprise easily, but isn’t so overly sensitive to the world that they worry about things that don’t matter.  This takes a certainly amount of comfort, self awareness, and certainty about who they are (and who we are!) to achieve.  I know exactly what to block out and what to take in while I’m doing something I know well and am confident doing, and at those moments I’m not victim to becoming unnecessarily shut down like I might walking through Times Square.  The same goes for Tye, who when he’s doing something he is confident in and feels good about doing, is not worried about every little sound, as suddenly he can filter appropriately.
    Obviously, if it is this hard to achieve in two fairly functioning humans, this isn’t an easy thing to achieve with a horse.  But, the more confident they are in themselves, what is expected of them, how best to interact with their people and their world, and the more options they feel they have at their disposal, the less a horse will need to succumb to one of these other coping mechanisms that are not nearly as healthy.  And certainly not as fun to ride!

A letter.

When she was checking out my updated website, one of my clients came upon this photo I took while riding her mare up in the hills above the barn. It inspired her to write me this letter, which she so graciously offered to share with the world. It is one of the most meaningful letters I have received, and I think her experiences will resonate with others.

This picture means so much to me. To some it will just look like a beautiful photo looking over the barn from the rider’s view, but to me it is like seeing a picture of my mare standing on an Olympic pedestal about to get her medal. You and I remember our first weeks with her, and our very real worry that she would not be able to be trained. Her level of fear was on a level above a mustang who had lived wild , her first two weeks she stood wary and untrusting, shaking like a leaf in the corner of a paddock deathly afraid of a rope gripped and paralyzed with fear. The journey to arrive at this picture has been such a welcome distraction from the challenges in my life this last year and a half. I feel like for once it was not something in my control at all, I had to let go of my fears too, and trust to go on a journey without a map and with a copilot, you Alex. My mom’s terminal illness rocked me to the core, and made me realize that I needed to stop waiting for “the perfect time, the perfect horse” to have a relationship with horses again. I had a wonderful teen gelding with ringbone who was healing but he was not a trail horse, he was my reminder that having a horse in my life filled a missing piece that had been absent for 18 years since I had an accident where I nearly died, and then life was busy going to school, working in pediatrics, having babies………and did I mention, ignoring the fact that I had almost died in an accident. Denial is a very strong coping mechanism in my life, not healthy but survival ready. My accident and serious head injury while riding when I was 18 was a lurking memory of the real risks involved in this decision to get back in to riding seriously, and I knew that I wanted to be safe, and that I also wanted a horse who needed a home. In the end this horse picked me, somehow I found myself wandering through a herd of 60 head of 4-6 yr olds who had not been handled. Did I mention that denial was a strong presence in my life? But they needed jobs. I had driven by them on my way to bring my daughter McCall to lessons at Alex’s barn and thought they were beautiful and wondered what their story was. Then the herd reduction sale happened and I thought I would just go take a “look”, I of course was drawn to the beautiful chocolate geldings with flowing creamy manes and tails. Alex correctly advised me that she could help me find a better fit for my journey back into horsemanship than an horse who had not been handled. Did I mention that stubborn and denial are strong characteristics in my life? Oh yeah and a challenge? I ignored Alex’s, my good friends, my mother’s and my husband’s, advice and brought one of my very best friends who also happens to be a veterinarian and as horse crazy as I am to look. The horse that kept following me around (now I know she was looking for treats and the pushiest girl in the bunch , was a smoky black mare, I was adamant I wasn’t getting a mare. I went back four times, every time she found me every time until the last visit I thought about other horses. Her journey to Alex’s place was not far in distance but has been a solar system in her awareness of a world with human interaction and learning about letting go of fear, and over all developing trust and partnership and respect for other horses and humans. We are still on a journey, she is almost always light, and is growing in her willingness to be soft. It has been a true test of commitment and patience. She has a job now, and she still looks up at the hills above the pasture with a wild eye most days. In the end I know now why she picked me, I needed her to teach me, I would not have learned near as much with any other horse. That is why this picture of her with her ears pricked forward willing to go for a ride in the hills, calm, soft, brought a tear to my eye. Thank you Alex, for healing my horse and my heart.

Down to business! 2014 updates

Well, it's a week into 2014 so it's time to get down to business! If you are considering training this year, make sure you read the rest of this!

My updated website is live, and you will find tweaks all over the place, from photos to text to testimonials. Please pay special attention to the updated 2014 rates as they do reflect some changes. www.threerivershorsetraining.com
*thanks to my web guy, Miguel, for all his hard work on the site. If you need a web guy, he's your man and I'll put you in touch!*

A reminder about how booking a 2014 spot works because I do things a little different than a lot of trainers: I will begin working my way down the list of full training horses in the first week of March this year, weather dependent of course. As always, I ask for a $50 deposit to hold a spot. Deposits place you on the list, first come first serve. Because I like to spend as much time as each horse and owner pair needs, I don't guarantee when your horse will arrive to training, only what number on the list you are. I will usually give you an estimate for when your spot will come up (I'm generally pretty close) and then two weeks notice for the confirmed date of arrival. This keeps things fair, and prioritizes progress over schedule. As always, I work to customize every training program to the specific horse and owner.

I HIGHLY recommend getting a deposit in ASAP if you are hoping for a March or April spot, as history shows that these months are pretty close to full by the end of January. If you have a deposit in with me already that was a hold over from late fall due to cold temps, you will automatically be placed at the top of the list.

**Spots are only guaranteed with a deposit to hold them**

Please don't hesitate to contact me with questions about training, or to set up an evaluation this winter. That's a great idea if you are on the fence about training, or want to know exactly what you are getting with me. I posted about that a while back, and will make sure to re-post that again soon.

I'm so excited for a great 2014!!!!

www.threerivershorsetraining.com

Being soft together.

A question came in regarding lightness and softness that I think is a good one.  I’ve done my best to answer it below.  I welcome further conversation and follow up questions to keep the topic going!

Question: It seems to me that once you have lightness that seems to stay, but softness I am constantly having to work on.  Is that the way it goes? Or, if I become insistent enough will my horse get so with me that the softness will eventually always be there when the two of us are doing something whether it be on the ground or from the saddle?

First, I guess I should recap what I see as the difference between lightness and softness.  This is certainly not a concept original to me.  Harry Whitney, Ross Jacobs, and others talk and write about this all the time. But, this is my take on the whole discussion.  Lightness is a physical reaction, where as softness is a mental response and emotional feeling.  To me, lightness usually is a horse avoiding pressure somehow, maybe the pressure of the line, the whip, the leg, or the ask in general, by staying physically ahead of it, without really changing a thought or feeling.  As anyone who has been chased knows, you can stay ahead of pressure/contact without feeling good about it, or thinking about what you are doing!  In fact, if you are simply staying ahead of pressure, you are probably thinking only about the pressure in order to react!  Softness, however, is a response.  Softness means that the horse has let go of one thought and picked up the one presented, completely committed, and made whatever physical changes were necessary to make the mental and emotional shift.  You can have lightness without softness, but if you have softness you will necessarily have lightness.  This is because, a horse can feel bad, tight, worried, etc in order to stay ahead of the pressure and react (lightness without softness), but will never be heavy and and also completely committed, okay feeling and engaged with the activity (softness).

A lot of the time, a horse will learn lightness as a form of obedience.  They know that if they do X then Y will not happen (if they side pass, the leg will not push into their side.  If they go left on the line, the sound/whip/stick/flag will never engage).  But, when they practice this obedience, they do not necessarily feel okay about it (who would feel okay about simple avoidance, even if it was successful? Not me.) they simply learn that it works to avoid trouble.  Horses will do a lot to avoid trouble.

A really easy place to spot if a horse has changed their thought softly, or simply learned a light trick, is when asking a horse to go out on a circle on the line.  If you ask them to go left, and they go left immediately without any pressure on the line, follow up with a flag, etc, but also without looking and thinking left, that is lightness.  If they actually look to the left, organize themselves to get ready to go left, and go left with their body and mind, with complete intent and okay-ness about going left (and as a byproduct, with a really nice physical maneuver) that is softness.

So, back to the question.  My first thought when I read the question is that the reason it seems that lightness stays and softness doesn’t, is because lightness is a lot easier to get than softness.  It’s as simple as that.  Horses are amazing at staying out of trouble, and many will stay really light even when really worried. So, my guess is, the horses that are being referred to in the question have figured out the physical expectations of the exercises and to avoid  conflict, which to these particular horses is pressure, they are performing the action with a level of obedience that does not necessarily reflect their mental commitment to the task.

I think that it is natural that a horse that is used to obedience and lightness, not soft engagement, will come in and out of softness as they learn.  Being soft and focused and engaged is tiring and takes practice.  If that has never been a part of the program, it is natural to default to the easier task of lightness and obedience.  However, don’t read “easier” as “better.” It is only easier because that is what the horse is used to; it does not mean they feel good about things.  Quality horsemanship will try to show the horse that place of softness and engagement repeatedly, until the horse realizes how much better that feels than simply shutting down and becoming obedient.  Once a horse truly realizes this, they will search for this feeling, and the try will shift from being directed at avoiding trouble towards being with the person. 

I also think it takes practice from the person’s end.  I know very few riders who have thought to look for softness rather than lightness, and even fewer that have been taught to.  So, for the majority of us it is a very new and obscure thing to not simply look for obedience and lightness.  As with any new world view, it takes time to not only learn how to ask for softness, but even what that looks like in the first place!  My guess is the person asking the question is still experimenting with softness themselves, and so are inadvertently not particularly consistent about the level of expectation, and maybe miss moments when the horse isn’t fully engaged and soft.  This is completely okay, it’s part of the learning curve, and we as people are likely to regress to old habits the same way the horse is.  This doesn’t mean to stop aspiring to perfection, it just means that sometimes there might be setbacks between us and our horses, stemming from both ends of the relationship!

A horse that feels good will be soft and ready to try.  A horse that feels bad will be worried and simply trying to survive.  It’s as simple as that.  Those moments that feel wonderful for both the horse and the human probably mean the softness is going both ways, and that’s an amazing thing.  But it takes a while to recognize the difference between an obedient trick and a willing try.

This co-softness, of both the horse and human, mentioned above is the last part of the equation.  It’s hard to talk about directly because it feels very intangible, but I think it comes up in a lot of my writing on this blog, however inadvertently.  We must remember that our expectations of softness must not only be for the horse.  I know that those of us trained to ride seeking lightness (read: obedience), also learn a certain amount of dictatorship.  Because, only a dictator would seek obedience.  A leader with benevolence, compassion and clarity would seek engagement— a two way relationship—and this sort of leader is lives through softness themselves. 

Finding softness within ourselves is as difficult as finding it within the horse, particularly when we are working toward something specific from animal.  It’s easy to get fixated on goals and technique and forget the horse.  That is exactly the moment we (at least I) turn into a dictator, and the moment the horse stops trying and starts worrying about what the next moment might bring.  Instead, we must both look softly into the next thought, with clarity, intrigue and engagement, excited for what each conversation might bring.

Below, I’ve posted two photos.  One, of Eddie looking soft and interested in coming around the corner.  The other, of both Eddie and me looking into the future!

Good luck!
Also posted at www.threerivershorsetraining.blogspot.com

www.threerivershorsetraining.com

Who they are.

Here is something I posted on Facebook last year, and thought I would share again here.

A conversation that comes up a lot at the barn is what each person is looking for in a horse. To me, this is a very personal decision and it requires being very honest with yourself about what you want from your horsemanship, and your horse.
If horses are about riding for a particular purpose, whether in a show, on the job, or on the trail, you need to be realistic about what you can offer a horse and what your horse can offer you. There are plenty of horses that could do a specific job with a lot of work, support and the perfect rider combination, but otherwise will struggle to feel okay enough to perform. Other horses have physical limitations that determine what they can or cannot do. This doesn't make them bad horses, it just makes them who they are and in need of the right circumstance.
A lot of us might be able to offer these horses a great deal, if we are willing to live within what the horse needs and has to offer. This doesn't always match what we were hoping for, though. So then a decision has to be made by the person, as to whether it is the external goal that is important, or the journey with the horse. This is a personal decision, and has a lot to do with what the person is interested in.
I know fantastic riders who are primarily interested in going down the trail, doing a job, or showing. I don't have any problem with this. But I think it is important that they are matched with the right horse. A horse that can handle the pressure of the job, physically and emotionally, without a ton of support, and without worrying much. There are horses that can do this, with the right combination of personality and experience. There are other horses that may or may not still perform, but fall apart emotionally. And that's not fair to the horse.
For me, my interest for my personal horses is more in the journey, and I don't mind spending a long time working on emotional issues, physical challenges, or anything else that comes up. That's where my interest lies in horses at this point in my life, from the saddle or from the ground. Each horse that I own has it's own special strengths and limitations. My lesson horses have physical issues that limit how much riding they can do and determine their need for extra care, but they have unending patience and offer safety for their students. Among my personal horses, I have horses with physical and emotional issues that may or may not be resolvable, but hopefully are manageable in the long term. But they offer me a world of learning and they have no where else to go. I'm a last stop for them. And I'm happy with that, with who they are, and I think that I have enough to offer them to keep their quality of life.
So the question that I encourage everyone to ask when deciding on a horse to take home, or whether to keep one, is if your goals, and the effort you are willing to dedicate to the horse, match what that horse needs and who that horse is.

Taking things for granted

Here is a photo from yesterday as four dogs and I went to pick up Punalu from the hospital after over two weeks! We are happy to have her back.

The vet said Punalu had over 100lbs of sand in her stomach! Punalu is a big horse, but that is almost 10% of her bodyweight in sand! This is incredible, and had to take years to accumulate. What I find more incredible, though, is that she was at my place for a little under two months when this happened, with NO signs of trouble. Granted, she was just being boarded here, and not being ridden daily, but there were zero colic symptoms. She was seen by a vet within an hour of the first foot stomp that indicated she did not want to eat. Punalu was living with what I have to imagine was extreme discomfort for a very long time without any complaints...and at the very least, without missing a meal!

I think that this demonstrates something even bigger about horses that we talk about a lot, but sometimes is really hard, at least for me, to drive home in lessons. Horses are incredibly resilient and obedient. They will try to avoid trouble at all costs, even if this means working or interacting with humans at a huge emotional or physical cost. Punalu's is an obvious situation, in which she was willing to do her job despite 100+lbs of sand sitting in her stomach, possibly for years. Now, Punalu happens to be tough as nails when it comes to personality, but I think this applies to a much bigger range of issues, from soreness because of poor teeth, ill fitting equipment, bad riding, all the way to horses feeling huge amounts of anxiety just from being around a human, much less having a person on top of them, and still performing.

To many, this quality in horses that allows them to sacrifice their own well being to get the job done, in hopes of staying out of trouble, is the reason people choose horses to ride. They take for granted that with a minimal amount of training and understanding, horses can provide them the four legs they need to fulfill whatever the person wants to do. It is seen as permission to use horses however one wants, because, wouldn't the horse complain if it was really that bad?

But to me, this quality feels like the exact opposite. Knowing what I do about a horse's capacity to shut out discomfort, whether physically or emotionally, makes me feel even more responsible for their wellbeing, and drives me to want to be an even better horse person. I am the one who chooses to have horses in my life, not the other way around. I choose where they sleep, what they eat, and who they interact with. I am the rider, literally seeing the horse from above. So, to me it becomes a profound responsibility to do the best I can. At the very least, I want my horses to feel that there is someone listening if they need to complain. That comes with relationship, with trust, and with time. And most of all, it comes by showing a horse, over and over, that their feelings are important. This doesn't mean they do whatever they want. All of you know I have pretty high expectations for behavior! But it means that in showing them what is expected, their feelings are not squashed. It means always doing the best we can to understand what they are experiencing, and never becoming complacent because a horse is "broke." It doesn't mean that we stop doing what we like to do with horses, whether competing, trail riding or working, but it means doing it with as much compassion, clarity, understanding and education as we can, so that hopefully it, at the very least, doesn't make our horse's day worse. Even though we still want our horses to perform, it means prioritizing their best interests, even if that means changing the goals of our performance, whatever that may be.

It means not taking for granted that we are humans, and humans ride horses. I'm thankful every day that a horse would ever let me touch it, much less sit on it and direct its ideas and actions. I think the day we start forgetting that this is an amazing gift, one that we should aspire to deserve, is that day we should stop riding horses.

Go for it

Usually I use this blog as a place to discuss things that I am experiencing or experimenting with, and then I apply them to things that I commonly see as struggles among my students. Often they are one and the same so it isn't too much of a stretch!  With this blog, though, I am going to discuss something I talk to a lot of people about, and I believe is more about humans than it is horses. I want to talk about taking risks, trying new things, and being accountable for how we are with our horses. 

Almost on a daily basis someone tells me that they feel stuck because they don't want to make their horse worse or mess up the horse's existing training. Usually this is followed by them telling me that it is still falling apart!  

Usually I keep the advice I give out to individual encounters, because it's hard to give specific suggestions that will apply in any situation. But I think I can break that rule when it comes to this issue. I think it is important to go for it. To try. To take risks and to think outside your comfort zone. Be careful with your physical safety, but not with your strategy. Just because you haven't seen me or your trainer do it, or you aren't sure you can execute the idea perfectly, doesn't mean you shouldn't give it a go. I do new things everything I go to work. That is how you grow, stay inspired, and become better and produce better horses. 

It is important though that two things happen when you are trying something new or uncomfortable. Firstly, you must ensure that what you are trying to do is true to your philosophical ideas about horsemanship. For me, this means that it is true to what the horse needs in that moment. That it is clear to the horse and in their interest. What I'm doing may need to be firm, just as it may be quiet, but either way it must be asking for the horse to try, think and be responsible. I should not be carrying a horses weight, physically or mentally, and should not be forcing a physical change without also asking for a mental one. 

Secondly, in being true to your conceptual goals, you must be accountable for your decisions.  Every time I work a horse, I try to do it as though someone I respect is watching. It is so easy to cut corners when no one is watching, which is one of the reasons it is so common for people to tell me that what I'm seeing in a lesson isn't common at home. Because at home, no one is holding them accountable for what they are doing. That is the difference that I see between people who make rapid, consistent changes at home, and those people who continue to struggle making a big jump. It doesn't have anything to do with technical skill or riding ability. It has everything to do with the person's ability to make decisions that reflect the sort of horse person they want to be rather than getting frustrated or in a rush and regressing back to what is comfortable for them (and probably not comfortable for the horse!).  

This certainly doesn't mean things will be anywhere near perfect! It just means that you are moving forward and pushing yourself rather than staying still. And with this, you must be sure to be confident and sure in your decisions, rather than worrying if it will work. It definitely won't work if you aren't going for it with all of your ability!  Sometimes in clinics or when people are watching me work at home I try to remember to mention if I'm doing something that I've never done before or that I'm not sure if it will work.  The truth is, that's all the time!  If it weren't all the time, I would be the same horse person I was five years ago, and I certainly am not that.

That being said, if I try something new, at that moment I am sure that it will work.  If it doesn't, I usually feel that pretty quickly and am not afraid to move on to something else. Most of the time, though, it does work, and I don't think that's in any small part to the fact that I'm following all of this advice. I'm confident it will work, and that the horse can come through, and before even starting I've evaluated if I'm being true to myself and my horse, and working as if someone I respect is watching. 

As a teacher, I would absolutely rather see someone come for a lesson trying new things and trying hard, even if I have to change their direction some, than someone who is paralyzed because they are afraid to fail. So, give yourself permission to mess up!  Why not? It takes a long time to get good at anything, and you have to put yourself out there for big rewards. If things get worse before they get better, so what?  Treat your horsemanship like a journey and an exercise in self growth, not a competition, and you will find things inside yourself you didn't know where there, and your horses will thank you. 

Two at a time

A post from facebook that was well received, so I'm reposting it here.  

I've been trying some new stuff with a couple horses I have in for training I thought I would share. They live together, and the owners have a really difficult time catching them when they are out in the pasture together. I did a little experiment, and realized that if I put them in separate pens, but still with multiple other horses and just over the fence from each other, so they could still feed off each other, within a day or two I could have them catching quite easily. But put them back together, and they would regress quite a bit, even as the rest of their work with me improved, and after they had been very easy to catch in with other horses. So I decided to try working them together, first in the round pen, at liberty. I spent time setting up a search, in which I was in the pen with the flag, with both of them loose, asking them to be on opposite sides of the pen and focused on me. This was fun, because it didn't take long before the appy mare (who is the more confident of the two and has had more work with me than the grey gelding) figured out exactly what I wanted, and was helping the gelding figure it out. Once they were confident with this, I spent time working each of them at liberty as if the other wasn't there, asking the one not being worked to hang out, stay attentive, and ignore the other horse, and ignore all of my movement while guiding the other horse. Then, I spent some time doing all of this again out in the bigger arena. I've seen HUGE improvements in their catching! The first couple days after this, I went in to the paddock with the flag, and set up a search, which only took them minutes to figure out (and they separated, and looked to me). I worked them at liberty in the paddock before catching, just the same as I'd done elsewhere. At this point, they are just plain easy to catch, and at the most I have to ask for their attention with a little cluck. I'm still revisiting working them together in the round pen from time to time, as the grey gelding can still get a flustered and I have seen a lot of benefit to his confidence, both in himself and being comfortable while I work the other horse, that not everything is about him, and in his ability to prioritize me over his mare friend. The softness that is coming into both of them during this work and other work has been great! Plus...it's just way less of a pain to catch them, which was really the point of the whole experiment.

Quiet vs. Still: Thinking about Equitation and Communication

 

For a while now I’ve been thinking and talking about the difference between being quiet and being still.  It’s a distinction I think is really important when working with horses, in so many ways.  I think the difference between using stillness or quietness is a fundamental representation of the sort of horsemanship we practice.

            For me, it all starts with thinking about the difference between the two words and their meanings.  Stillness evokes the idea of nothingness for me.  I think of something that is motionless.  To be still is more about lacking something than doing something.  When you are still, you are actively not doing something.  Quietness, on the other hand, still has something happening.  It might be very little of something, or almost nothing at all, but it is still there to be heard, felt or seen.  Just…quietly.  There’s no excitement or commotion, but it’s still there. 

            In horsemanship, I often hear these concepts used interchangeably.  I’ll use an example most horse people will be familiar with: “quiet hands” or “still hands.”  Anyone who has taken a riding lesson of almost any type or discipline has probably heard one or both of these phrases.  I started thinking about what this really meant, to quiet our hands or to still our hands.  In recent years I’ve started playing with how I can better communicate with a horse through my body to the lines/reins, to them.  For example, I thought about activating a rein (under saddle) or the line (from the ground) and asking for a change in something, whether in speed, gait, direction or carriage.  What did that look like and feel like to the horse?  I realized that while I would change position, and sometimes even motion, I often didn’t truly change the life in me, or if I did, I would find dead spots.  For instance, if I opened the line to ask the horse to trot off in a circle around me, maybe my hand went out and changed position, maybe my walk changed, or the size of my own circle, or any number of the changes you can make to communicate an increase of speed to the horse.  But I noticed my hand..literally my hand…stayed the same.  It was like a block in the energy flow.  And what a poor place to block the energy flow, being the closest thing to the horse and, when working with a rein or a line, the point of contact between me and the rope. 

            So I have been playing with allowing that life to flow through me and to the horse in a more fluid way.  To think about going with the horse, whether in hand, at liberty or under saddle, rather than just letting the horse take me.  I’ve thought of how this changes my breathing, my core, my thoughts and even how centered I need to be to not allow spots to show up that will block my ask.  I started watching how my students did this and where they struggled, and what I had to change in how I asked them, as well.

            That’s when I started really thinking about stillness and quietness.  I realized that so many of us are focused on position, and rightfully so, that position becomes static in our horsemanship.  It becomes this place we are supposed to be while we do everything else.  We must find our position and stay there, while we do everything else.  When it comes to hands, there is a place to put them when asking certain things, and that’s that, no matter what happens.  Keep your hands still and in place, and that will make them quiet. 

            But that doesn’t make your hands quiet.  Leaving them in place and static is in itself a block, or a built in brace.  Why?  Because the horse is in motion.  We are asking the horse to be alive, to be fluid, to be responsive and above all to move.  So if our hands stay still, while we are asking them to move, that block of energy flow in the ask is always going to be there.

            Yet, that doesn’t mean we should be flopping all over the place! In the case of hands, there certainly is no benefit to waving your hands around, or letting your hands creep up to your chest or down to your knees.  There is of course an area where your hands should be when doing different things, and it’s for good reason, as that’s where it is both comfortable and practical to communicate with your horse.  But what it does mean is that there should be life in your hands.  For instance, if your horse is trotting, with each step your horse moves not only forward (though that’s important!), but also up and down and around.  In the trot’s case, in an even, diagonal up and down two beat motion.  So your hands need to have that forward, even, diagonal up and down two beat motions in them.  Your hands must trot just the same as the horse, so you are not blocking the life.  You might not be able to see this motion with your eyes (you probably shouldn’t, or your hands will be far to busy), but you have to feel that life in your hands.  Your hands should be quiet, but not still.

            Just the same in your body.  So much of common equitation practice is about a still position that is so static on the horse.  There is no consideration for the fact that the horse is moving, and with each movement is changing location and covering both ground and space.  Good position should be a part of that change.  Equitation should allow you to quietly go both with your horse, and direct your horse, in a position that is both least disrupting to what the horse is doing and the most convenient to communicate a request for a change in that doing.  If you are totally still while your horse is going forward, you are being left behind. The only reason you end up further ahead in ground and space is because the horse is forced to lug you along.  This is not partnership, this is a burden.  Positive equitation should have life in it that is quiet and effective, but not still.

            I don’t think this distinction between the terms quiet and still is limited to our aids and position.  It goes even deeper into the foundation of our horsemanship.  It seems to me that when we are taught to be still in our hands, in our position, in our riding and in our training, we are building an inherent brace into our horses by always being this burden.  We are always being still and expecting the horse to create movement within this box of stillness.  The horse should move but within the confines of our position, which is blocking their body in one way or another to produce the desired look, rather than facilitating a desired performance.

            By riding with this static nature, and building a brace into the horse’s body with our own body, it is inevitable that we are building a brace into their mind.  How troubling it must be to be being asked for movement, mostly forward movement, from a rider who is so still and lifeless.  How can a horse maintain a free and forward mind when all they feel on or with them is the opposite?  It is only natural that the result will either be poor behavior out of confusion resulting from this seriously mixed message, or a shut down of their mind.  Both are coping mechanisms, and often when the poor behavior begins, people become even more devoted to strict position and these mechanics of blocking, and as the mixed messages become stronger, the horse slips into the latter coping mechanism, and shuts down their mind.

            So now you have a horse with a still mind, which is a very different mind than a quiet mind.  A quiet mind is not motionless.  There is life to it, it is directable and accessible.  There isn’t excess noise to a quiet mind; it is simply available and ready to receive requests.  A quiet mind can pick up a thought or let go of one without being troubled, because there is nothing standing in its way.  A still mind is motionless.  It is a mind that fixates on one thing or another, that cannot multitask because it becomes locked on to only one thought at a time, and then has difficult moving on because it is so still. 

            Therein lies the philosophical difference between quiet and still hands, bodies, positions, horses and horsemanship.  Being still puts the person in position and requires the horse to adapt to the confines of this position, no matter what.  A still rider doesn’t go with the horse, and doesn’t ask for the horse to go with them.  A still rider is just there, and the horse is just there, too.  The result might be a very consistent frame, accompanied by a very hard mind.  I think this is what we are used to seeing from horses and from riders.  A rider holding still, so that they can hold the horse still, and the result is stillness in both of their minds, instead of quiet willingness.  It seems to me this sets everyone up for failure, and eliminates any hope of true partnership, real fluidity, or successful self-carriage (from the horse, or the rider!). 

            We must be thoughtful in our asking, for while of course there is an inherent discrepancy in power between the horse in the human, as we control every aspect of their lives, this discrepancy does not have to eliminate the conversation between us.  So I’m always thinking about my ask and my presence.  I’m thinking about the places where I’m blocking my horse and myself from success with a brace that isn’t an active doing, but instead a lack of doing.  I’m looking carefully at places where the feel between the horse and me can be fluid enough that we can go together, because both of us are quiet enough to hear what the other says

Creativity & a Commitment to Change

As promised..the beginning of a series of blog posts about some things I’m thinking about after a month in Arizona with Harry...


Auditing and participating in Harry Whitney’s March clinics got me thinking about a lot of things, but one thing that stands out in my mind is what a huge commitment this sort of horsemanship is for a person. It’s not just that it is technically difficult to learn the subtleties of timing your communication with a horse, reading their thoughts, and then just being a good rider or managing not to slap yourself in the face with your lead rope or flag, though all of this is certainly difficult. It is also that it requires a long and thoughtful look at yourself, and what sort of human baggage is getting in the way of your horsemanship. It requires you to let go of so many things people hold on to so tightly, and while it is mostly important to let go of these things when working with the horse (at least if bettering your horsemanship is the goal), it seems that most of us have to work on these things when away from the horses, so that by the time you involve another being, some things are a big more second nature and become a default response when under pressure, not something you have to think about doing and then actually do it. All while a horse is towering over you or trembling underneath you!

I saw a woman who came to Harry’s clinic, not knowing anything about him and what to expect, and over the course of the week she had to reevaluate her entire self. Not just her horsemanship, which sure got turned around, but also her entire person, and everything about how she operates in the world! This is the sort of woman who when she decides to do something, she does it. When she learned Parelli’s 7 steps, she and her horse did those to perfection. When she decided to teach her horse to canter at liberty in a circle around them, they drilled on it until they could do it with their eyes closed. If you give this woman a job, whether a hobby like her horses, or her upper level management position she had climbed to in her career, she would get the job done. But, despite this, or maybe because of this, her horse was cranky and insecure, had ill feelings about almost everything she asked, even when he performed, and would occasionally run away with her. She had done all this drilling to try and create the best relationship she knew how with her horse, and that didn’t seem to work.

Over the course of her week with Harry, this woman started noticing things about her horse, sure. I could talk about how her horse felt boxed in to the tricks and drills they performed, how he was down right nasty about going forward, and how yes, he did run away with his rider from time to time. I could also talk about how while everything certainly wasn’t worked out by the end of the week, the two of them had some really nice moments in the arena, and her goal of feeling like she could ride without spurs and on a loose rein were definitely accomplished. But what I found most amazing was what she did in the evenings in the bunkhouse.

After discovering the tension in her horse, this woman went home at night and started thinking. Could this tension have something to do with the high-powered career she had just retired from, and had been the background noise for all of the work she had done with this horse? Could her determination to succeed and perform have come off as pushy, intense and even unfair to her horse? Why was it that she seemed to talk louder and more high pitched the more nervous she got, and it was so hard for her to breathe and relax her body when she was riding?

And then she realized it. This whole time, maybe her whole life, she hadn’t been taking deep breaths! Of course she was breathing, she’d made it this far in life without dying, but she wasn’t really inhaling. One morning she got up and told me that she while lying in bed that night trying to fill her whole body with air, and she had gotten so dizzy she had almost fallen out of bed! So maybe she was only using her chest to breathe? Sounded right to me.

So all week, she just tried to re-teach herself to breathe. Now doing this might sound easy, but shallow breathing isn’t just a physical habit. It comes from an emotional place of tension and letting go of an emotional state that you have functioned in for an entire lifetime isn’t so simple! Definitely not a one-week endeavor, but how wonderful to be able to watch it begin for this woman. So many times I’ve heard Harry say that a horse can’t hardly help doing physically what his mind is thinking. Even when a piece of equipment or a person won’t allow it to come to fruition, you still see their muscles arched towards their thought, their eyeballs focused where they are thinking, and so on. As Harry says, if their mind and their body are in different places, there’s trouble in the household! But, it really isn’t that much different for us people, now is it? This woman truly thought she was a happy, content human being. And on so many levels, she is! But obviously there are things that produce tension within her, or a full breath of air wouldn’t be so foreign it was dizzying!

Now this all on it’s own is pretty thought provoking to me. Yet, what really blew me away was her willingness to work on it all. I’m positive she didn’t really get everything that was said during the clinic, how could anyone? And she certainly won’t just go home and be a relaxed, deep breathing go with the flow gal that has perfect clarity with her horses. But, she was really truly willing to work on herself and try and make a change. She recognized that the horsemanship could be a vehicle for self-improvement, not simply horse-improvement. She was willing to admit a lot of mistakes with her horses, and a lot of trouble in herself that wasn’t rooted at all in her horses, but her horses were dealing with nonetheless. And most of all, she was willing to work towards changing this stuff! That is a tough order.

I know for me, one of the reasons I love working with horses and love my job, is that it forces me to really look at myself and work towards becoming a better person. I can usually tell really quickly when my Type A personality is raring it’s ugly head, because a horse doesn’t respond well to an agenda. I know when I’ve let external pressures like an owner’s deadline or someone else’s competitive words get to me because I feel progress slip away with the horse. If I really get in my own way, I hit the ground. Thankfully it doesn’t happen often, but if it does I know my hard headed self probably needed the reminder and I thank the horse for their honesty.
It’s hard to change, though, and it seems like the willingness to change is the hardest part for a lot of people. Change is scary, and taking responsibility for certain things is even scarier. I find it really incredible that people like the woman I discussed above would come to a clinic prepared for the typical agenda filled horsemanship week and leave working on herself on such a deep and profound level. What bravery!

I’m not sure how to wrap up this subject, other than to say that I thought it was a thought worth sharing. Usually when I’m really having trouble with a horse and I don’t have Harry around to steer me in the right direction (which is most of the time), if I can take a step back and evaluate what is happening inside me, I can find something to change, whether physically or philosophically, enough to make a change in the horse. After all, I’m asking the horse to make some pretty profound changes, so it’s only fair! And it certainly leads to some of my most creative moments, with the most personal growth as a horse person. I visit with a lot of my clients about what’s driving the real problems with their horses, and usually we find patterns in their life as a whole. How they get along with their spouses, families, dogs, cats and houseplants! So I guess this is just something to think about as we all press on to be better horse people!