Take a seat

Well, I did it. In my lesson with Debra the Great (that's her new name, she just doesn't know it yet) a couple of weeks ago, I did it. When she finished up with my friend Kara (who was looking AMAZING over fences...nice automatic release, my friend!), she walked towards me, and I said, "I want to work on me." She asked what I meant by that, after all, it's a bit vague. So, I explained about the videotape my dear husband made of me and my disappointment at what I saw....my seat all rocked back on my pockets (if I had them...I don't ride in jeans; they hurt too much), my arms all crazy and in front of me. Debra, being the Great One, smiled and proceeded to work her magic.

First, let me explain how awesome Debra is. She has a history with horses that reads like a Who's Who of the equine world in SEVERAL different sports (hunters, jumpers, Thoroughbred racehorses, dressage). She has all her USDF medals; she's trained several different horses of varying breeds up through the levels to FEI. With all this, she has a right just as much as anyone to be quite the DQ. However, she's truly the most laid back person on earth (must be the California in her) - seriously, she never groomed her horse when she rode other than to knock off the (SUBSTANTIAL amounts of) dirt from where the saddle would be. She would be out riding him, doing the most beautiful piaffe, passage, tempis, and pirouettes all with clumps of dirt flying from his neck, face and shoulders. In lessons, she laughs off the intensity I bring and reminds me how wonderful this dressage experience can be. So...all that said, after my declaration of how horrible my seat was, she walked up beside me with the mounting block, climbed it and asked me to rise up out the saddle. She proceeded to put her hand, palm up, in the center of my saddle, and told me to sit on it. "Really?" I asked with a bit of trepidation. "Oh, yeah," she chuckled, "I don't mind at all." I shrugged, and, not being one to say no to a new adventure, sat down.

In all this, we discovered that my seat bones sit farther forward in my seat than any others she has ever felt (She claimed to have felt "hundreds." I'll take her word for it.). So, to get them pointing down and in the right place in the saddle, I have to think of riding forward to the front third of the saddle with my upper body...almost putting a slight arch in my lower back. Well, what feels like a slight arch to me is actually a neutral spine position. I'm just so used to rolling back on my seat bones and flattening out my lower back that I have forgotten what "sitting up straight" really feels like.

Then, she moved to the other part of my seat - my thighs. To emphasize the musculature of my thighs, she asked me to prevent her being able to move my lower leg around. She pushed it in towards Obe's side, I pressed back against the pressure with my quads. She pushed on my toe to shove my leg backwards, I pressed back with my quads. She pushed on my heel to shove my leg forwards.....and my leg went FLYING up by Obe's shoulder. Debra squinted up at me, "Do you use your hamstrings at all?" I recovered my jaw that had dropped onto the pommel of the saddle and said, "Apparently no." After a few more minutes of talk of engaging the hamstrings (popping the tendons behind the knee), I struck out at a walk on a slightly larger than 20-meter circle with my new seat and new thighs. I quickly realized that my dressage education (if you want to call it that) had huge, gaping holes in it. With a few direct questions, and through getting her hands literally ON me, Debra had not only pinpointed those holes, but she had deftly filled them. "Seat" does not mean "butt." It is the crotch, the inner thigh, the inner knee, the entire pelvis...it's actually quite large as far as surface area goes.

So, there I was walking around, diligently working at engaging my hamstrings. Debra asked for sitting trot, and off I went. Immediately, I could feel the weight dropping through my thigh and leg. The part of my pelvis that was touching the saddle was further forward, riding in a circular motion through the front of my abdomen. My arms dropped naturally by my side (in fact, we never even had to address the issue of my arms once I discovered what "seat" meant). All this felt great, and I knew I was onto something thanks to Debra the Great's intuitive way of teaching. But, it wasn't over quite yet....

Feedback is more than the squeaky, eardrum-piercing tones that microphones produce when they cross paths with a speaker's output. It is a mechanism that lets us know when we are on the right track or when we have strayed a bit too far the wrong way. That night, my horse became the best feedback mechanism I've truly ever experienced. When I asked for trot and settled into my new seat, my lower legs were able to close around Obe's ribs and lift her to me. For the first few circles, Obe's ears flicked back and forth, but not in her usual, ADD, paying-attention-to-anything-other-than-me way. It was almost as if she was trying to figure out if this new way of going was true. "Really?" she was asking. "Is this really the way it's going to be? Are you sure? 'Cause I'm kinda liking this." After a few circles, I closed my leg, and Obe lifted me to the front of the saddle, carried her shoulders up through her withers, and lengthened...really and truly lengthened. And, get this, I RODE it. I TRULY rode it. It felt like I was riding a sin wave. Now, I'm not a mathematician by any stretch of the imagination. I teach English for really good reasons. However, I know a sin wave, and that's exactly what her energy felt like. I wasn't simply dropping down in the down parts, forcing my butt down on her back and squashing all the energy she was trying to create. Instead, I was allowing the up and the down portions of the wave to simply TAKE my seat (crotch, pelvis, thighs and all) through the energy. Debra almost laughed at how different we were. "Keep riding it! Feel it!" she encouraged.

I was sore for three days after my lesson. My hamstrings were a little surprised at being called into action. But, I couldn't WAIT to get back out there and try it again. I was a little worried that it was just a fluke, that I might not really be riding as well as I thought I was. Then, last night, nearly two weeks later, I rode in the indoor arena that has one short side in mirrors. I dared to take a look as Obe and I trotted by. It isn't often that I like what I see when I look in a mirror. But last night, I actually smiled at my reflection. Now, I just need another session with a videotape....that will tell the tale. I'll let you know when that happens!

Videotape

I haven't updated my blog in forever. I could probably make a million excuses for that (some of them good ones), but I won't, because excuses rarely mean anything to anyone except for the one who is making them. So, onward and upward to what I want to write.

When I type type the word "videotape," I automatically think of the Don Delillo short story of the same name, but that's no where NEAR what I'm talking about. I'm talking about my need to take a video camera to the barn with me more often.

A few weeks ago, I had my husband videotape me riding on a sunny, Sunday afternoon. It was informative, to say the least. Now, I'm not going to say that I invented the strategy of using videotape to watch my rides. We all know that video is a well-known tool in the horseback rider's arsenal (that's a mixed metaphor, I know, but I like the word "arsenal"). But, I laugh at myself and how I'm continually "shocked" at how useful it is! I'll watch myself riding, then I'll swear up and down that I'm going to videotape myself more often. But, then the camera sits in the closet for another couple of months. But, I really do want to change that pattern. I think I need to videotape myself more often for several reasons.

Reason #1: Me. My position needs help. I know that I have learned some bad habits from riding alone for a couple of years. And I know that I've learned to ride rather defensively, too. So, more often than not, I'm a bit collapsed, arms a little bit of everywhere, shoulders round. Not that that position would save me in the event of a big spook, buck or bolt - but, something inside me says to ride that way. Luckily, I'm taking lessons with Debra-the-amazing-Grand-Prix-trainer-who-is-laid-back-cool-and-fun. I can't wait to get out there tonight. I'll get to the barn, tack up, then warm up my horse to get rid of those horrible first few moments of any gait where she acts like she's never walked, trotted, cantered, been in the arena, seen those jumps, trees or leaves. Then, when Debra turns to me, I'll say, "I want to work on me." I may even get really brave and say, "Should I cross my stirrups for a while?"

Reason #2: My horse. I am pleased that videotape has validated that I truly CAN feel when things are good and when things are bad. I can watch tape of my riding and know what's coming next..."Oooh, when we come out of that corner, she loses impulsion and gets all sticky in her shoulders." Sure, enough, that happens. So, that's good. However, it's also shown me that I need to tune in EVEN MORE during my transitions. I'm not satisfied with simply getting a clean walk-canter transition. I want to get it at the right moment...I don't want my horse's haunches to swing to the inside first because I missed the timing of her outside hind leg. So, I want to videotape to wach my horse and learn to feel her better.

Reason #3: I really want to do one of those before/after videos. Now that I'm getting the hang of the Microsoft movie maker software on my computer, I want to blend together some clips that show where we are now and, in the future, the amazing, awesomeness that I know my pony can be. That's going to be the bomb-diggity.

So...I'm off to the barn. I'll tack up, warm up the wiggles out of my horse, then smile at Debra and say, "I want to work on me." I'll let you know how it goes.

Good

I just got off the phone with one of my dearest friends. She lives all the way across the country in Oregon, but talking with her is always easy...it's just one of "those" friendships, you know? She called because she just got the horse of her dreams...for free. This isn't one of those "gift horse," things where the horse is all broken down, one-eyed, and lame. It also isn't one of those things where everyone kind of smirks and says, "Oh, she'll find out that there's no such thing as a free horse." Believe me, if anyone in the world knows that, it's Stacie.

She called me while hand grazing her new mare - who has the lovely name, Nadia - trying to overcome a moment of panic and anxiety that she doesn't really deserve something this wonderful to happen to her. If you know me, you know now why Stacie called me. I struggle with this deeply on an almost daily basis.

My background tells me that I receive good things (conceivably, I receive God's blessing) as reward for the good I've done or for the bad I've managed to avoid. So, when good things happen to me, sure, I'm happy, but I'm also desperately afraid that they will be taken away from me with the same capricious nature with which they were given. Thinking of the good in life as "a reward" makes for enormous amounts of pressure to perform...continually. Be the best student, be the best Christian, be the best piano player, be the best actress, be the best horseback rider, be the best teacher, be the best fill-in-the-blank with ANYTHING out of my life and it would mimic the voice that whispers at me from the base of my skull. Then, when good happens, it just ups the ante that much more. Every challenge, then, (test, piano recital, theater performance, report card) becomes a possibility that I may fail...and my carefully constructed ruse will fall apart and everyone will see that I'm just a sham, that it's all been an act, that I'm really not worth all the good that has happened.

I know now - after years of struggle, therapy, life, and contemplation - that the above paragraph breaks the heart of a loving, giving God. He doesn't tantalize us with good things to get us to walk a tight rope into His good favors. He doesn't dangle carrots...He doesn't play with our hearts. He simply loves us beyond anything we can ask or imagine.

That means that the good stuff in life is simply confirmation of that love...confirmation that we are healthy, spending our energy on the things that matter - our hearts, the hearts of others. The good stuff should be encouraging, invigorating and downright exciting! It isn't about pressure...it's about release! Think of it in horse training terms - we use the release to show the horse that he's on the right track, that he's thinking with us, that he's partnering with us in this wonderful dance. The good in life is our "release"- it's our partnership with God working itself out on this earth.

It's fitting that Stacie and I ended our conversation with a few tears - mixed with sadness and joy. It would be amazing to be standing there with her while she hand-grazed her new, magical white pony. But, in a sense, I was there, because "good" stretches far beyond Portland, Oregon, or Waynesville, North Carolina, or her heart or mine. And that makes me so excited that I could "explode into glitter," right Stacie?

The possibilities are endless!

This weekend, I got the new Dover catalog in the mail. It's not just any catalog...it's the "Elite" edition, and it's HUGE. Like any good horse person, I immediately sat down on the couch to look at it. I looked at every single page, despite the fact that I've seen most of these products dozens of times in other catalogs. But that didn't matter...THIS catalog was new, so every page deserved a thorough going-over. Riding breeches for schooling and for showing, show shirts, fleece pull-overs, polo wraps, wool coolers, cotton coolers, brush boots, bell boots, belts, reins, bridles, gloves, medications, supplements, whips, spurs, saddles, saddle pads, etc. There are too many products to name! The combinations are endless...the possibilities are endless! Well, depending on how much money you have available.

I often find myself reading these catalogs and picturing myself using the products, putting them on Obe, riding in them - rolling the wheel barrows, wearing the scarves, strapping on the spur straps, putting my feet in the stirrups. Even though I don't have the budget to purchase everything I imagine purchasing, it's the act of imagining it that gets me excited. Simply thinking of all the possibilities makes me giddy!

I do the same thing reading books about riding and training. Right now, I'm working through three books by Paul Belasik and two by Mary Wanless (I know, I know...five books is an insane amount, but that's how I roll). In every chapter I find something that I connect with powerfully - and I begin to imagine me and Obe performing the perfect flying change, half-passing with HUGE steps across the arena, getting to do a victory gallop. And in the imagining of these things, I get excited! I've never done a victory gallop...our half passes are stilted and uneven, our flying changes are more often than not accompanied by bucking. But, I can imagine all these things into perfection - not some pressure-laden, fearing-failure kind of perfection, but a picture that drives me to work harder and tune in a little more to my horse. I love that! The possibilities are endless!!

Past, Present, Future

Since the Advanced Equine Management course ended in May, I've been pondering what to do with this blog. I thought of using it with my Level I Equine Management class that I'm teaching now, but that didn't materialize. Once I heard that I had gotten a full-time teaching position in the fall, I realized that I could use this blog for personal musings on my own riding, horses and Obe, in particular.

Allow me to set the stage with a little bit of past....

Six years ago, Jim and I were married at the courthouse in Helena, Montana. The Justice of the Peace, Wallace Jewel, asked us how someone born in Colorado met someone born in Tennessee to get married in Montana. We could only shrug and smile our silly, soon-to-be-wed grins that were etched on our faces that day. A few months later, we trekked across the country, moving to Virginia Beach where we both were teaching at a private high school. That gig ended in summer, 2005, and I haven't had a "normal" full-time job since then. I worked for a time as an assistant horse trainer; I was a long-term substitute teacher at a different private high school. After moving to western North Carolina, I've worked for a year and a half as part-time writing program coordinator at a local community college. To make ends meet, I've taught lessons, Equine Management courses, trained horses, and (my bones ache just thinking about it) waited tables. It's been tough...physically, emotionally and financially.

It's that last part that makes the part-time work the worst. You work and work, yet there never seems to be enough money. Add to that the fact that I own a horse...a hobby not for the lean of pocketbook. It's put a substantial strain on us, something that has been a great consternation for my husband. Every few months, there would be a bit of a panic that too little money was coming in and too much money was going out. I felt every word right in those muscles that connect your neck to your shoulders - and when those muscles couldn't hold anymore stress, I would feel it sink heavily into my chest. I was working so hard to keep the horse I love so much...yet it wasn't enough (and I won't go into the whole "not good enough" thing here).

However, with one phone call last Monday (a week ago today), things changed. I'm now, in the present tense, teaching/working full-time at the community college where I've run the writing program. The powers that be were able to find room in the budget to give me a few English classes and bump me to full-time (especially after finding out that I'd applied to a different school for a full-time position this fall). My personal income will more than double starting in August. I know life is about much more than money, but this news alone has made my passion for horses POSSIBLE...not a struggle, but a definite part of my life. My husband didn't know me during those years when I tried to give up horses to convince God to love me more. He didn't know how scared and lost and empty I was. He didn't see the change in me during grad school when I rediscovered my heart in a roundpen at Danada Equestrian Center. He didn't share in the dozens of, yes, mystical experiences in Montana when I found that place where I lost track of time and truly felt at one with God. I think Jim may have inklings of that process...but now, there is no question about my future with horses.

And so, I can look forward to the next few months, instead of dreading the end-of-the-month spiral into fear and stress and heavy weights in my chest. Two days ago, Jim said it..."Don't worry too much about teaching too many lessons. You won't have to, board's not a problem. We don't have to worry about the horse anymore." I can show you where we were...sitting in the car, pulling out of the public parking lot in downtown Waynesville, turning right towards home.

Reminder

Hi, class!
This is just a friendly little reminder that next Tuesday (the 11th), your projects are due. I'm excited to see what each person's horse is like throughout its life.

Here are a couple of websites to help out. Use Google or another search engine to find info on specific questions, and, of course, your class notes (since we covered most of this in class at one point or another!).

A site on training the horse in different life stages.
A site that has a chart relating horse age to human age (you may find different charts have slightly different numbers - not a big deal, it's not an exact science).

Have fun with this project! Remember, it's all about taking the information we've learned over the course of the class and condensing it into one imaginary horse's life span.

See you Friday!

Sustainable Dressage

Today's AB Tech class was very interesting, and I had a ton of fun! We all discovered (and rediscovered) what an amazing horse Jasmine is. You wouldn't think it to see her in the pasture or to lead/drag her up to the barn. She seems like a normal, mellow school horse. But, man...she can move, and boy is she fancy! It was fun to watch her try to take care of the novice riders while at the same time harboring the ability to really MOVE with the more advanced rider. I've said it at least a dozen times before, and I'll say it again: She's worth her weight in gold.

Anyway, I've been thinking this afternoon (while weed-eating and working in the yard) about the idea of riding correctly, riding well, and being in harmony with the horse. So much of what we've talked about in regards to the horse's body, his anatomy, his various functions and systems really informs us to be compassionate riders. This, then, demands that we be thoughtful, reflective, and understanding. We've also talked quite a bit about dangerous and abusive training techniques that take very little of the horse's natural functions and systems into consideration. It's heart-breaking to see the videos of horses being ridden in such barbaric ways.

However, not EVERYONE rides that way. Here is a website I'd like you to check out in your spare time (ha! who has that?). It's called "Sustainable Dressage," and there are some fantastic articles on it regarding the training scale, collection, and rollkur. Another thing I love about it is the various illustrations that show how leverage bits work, how the horse's body moves, and our unintended effects upon the horse's movement. I wish this lady would write more; her site hasn't been updated in ages. I like her methodical approach and her evident compassion and understanding.

On a completely different note - Obe is happy as a clam in her new pasture with Rocky! Being in raging season, she was SOOO lovey-dovey with him, licking him, nuzzling him, drinking from the trough while he did. She's like a middle-school girl all twitter-pated over the boy in French class! Ha!