Abstainin' from complainin'

Even the littlest complaints bring me down. Mine as well as those of others.

But gosh it's hard to refrain from complaining at times. I've been monitoring that, watching some bubbles of discontent rise to the surface and burst, splashing all around me.

I feel better when I manage what I can manage better than I have been. What can I manage? My eating, my sleeping, my exercising... my attitude.

I specifically committed to abstain from complaining a few days ago. A good idea. It set the tone to bring mindfulness back into my day-to-day activities. Especially those activities shared with my beloved and challenging RNB. It really is about me and what I do with stress. It really is not about any person or circumstance. I am the one who can change my attitude. My attitude is not dependent on what others are doing.

Is it easy? Not for me much of the time.

Is it worth the effort? As my mother used to say, "You betcha!"

Once a tank, always a tank?

Someone asked a question about a Halfinger after hearing that they are 'tanks' and because of their breeding, do not need to be sensitive.

We personally own a Haflinger, who came with some words from his former owner like "he's just like that, won't change, blah blah." Because RNB liked his "in your face" friendliness, I left him (the horse) alone and did chores around him. He was never scary to me, just a "tank" - a bulky, extremely confident presence.

The timing coincided when RNB got very busy with other things and stopped doing things with the Halfinger, and when I got more intent on having different boundaries with the herd of six here at home.

The Haflinger is very capable of responding softly, quickly, athletically. Nobody had probably ever asked him before to do more than pull in harness or carry under saddle.

That said, I do believe that -- to quote Harry Whitney -- so they are started, so they go. Which to me is the same for people as horses -- our first lessons about how things are become our foundation. Yes, we can alter things later, but under stress, we tend to resort to our foundations.

With a few horses I have met who had reputations of dragging people around in halter and lead, I try to address what I want from two places. One is to help the horse understand that I know we can do everything together without my taking the slack out of the lead or reins. That seems to establish a new pathway for understanding between us, and eliminates the push-into-pressure response.

When that is pretty reliable, I start to reintroduce pressure in order to help the horse learn new ways to reduce the pressure, instead of pushing into it, or in some cases, yanking the tools of pressure out of the human hands (picture that pony who knows exactly when and at what angle to bolt in order to get free from the lead line contact). Basically, helping the horse know how to rearrange his body so the pressure is gone.

Because it's very, very, very likely someone is someday going to carelessly apply pressure instead of connecting and guiding the horse, I hope that my efforts result in a horse who can think of a few more options beyond pulling away or pushing through.

There are so many parallels in helping a horse like this and helping a human who has learned to push and pull his/her way through life. What a delight to discover that within that "tank" lives a bright, sensitive, alert being who indeed will respond to different expectations.

I'm falling for her

That has several meanings.

Today it means this: in order for her to feel better in her skin, I will fall, fall, fall again.

I was walking across the paddock behind the barn this morning and slipped and fell. My sudden change of position triggered a buck and a run from Riza, the 4 yo, and a little shuffling from the two horses closest to her.

This is good to know. I sure want to help her feel better about people falling to the ground before I ever get on her!

So I practiced falling.

She got used to it pretty quickly.

I was padded by my many winter layers (just getting to about 20° at the time, was below 0° again last night) so nothing hurt.

Maybe some day I'll be practicing Aikido falls and rolls again. My body is feeling better enough that I can consider the possibility. I did practice some sword moves the other day -- breaking up kindling with an overhead swing.

I may look like an old lady, but I ain't. Only on the outside.

Brrrr!

Brrrr!

Coldest morning this season.

I told someone it was in the single digits.

Then I realized it was in the single digits below 0°F.

Some things are worth repeating.

Brrrr!

Moment of gratitude for layers of cotton, silk, wool, fleece, sheepskin, down, you name it. Layers rock!

6th Picture Challenge

Below is the 6th picture in the 6th folder in the pictures section of my hard drive. I am basing this on an idea from Behind the Bit...

Here's the picture.



Taken a few years back in the barn aisle of a farm with an indoor attached to this area of stalls. I was researching indoor arenas. I'll go another step and show pictures of the arena that is attached to this barn -- inside and outside views.





My favorite arena from those research days is one in central Maine, open on three sides. If I find pictures of that one, I'll post them. Special place!

Naive

Recently I read where someone was criticized for having an amazing amount of naivety in their horsemanship, which got me thinking...

I want to be more naive!

What is amazing is how naive horses are, and what a challenge it is to become as naive as they are.

I looked up 'naive' in my Oxford American Dictionary:

"Naive, adj. showing a lack of experience or of informed judgment."

I can see where this could be considered a deficit, and I can see where this could truly be an advantage. Isn't it when we become childlike again that the wonders of the world are available to us? And "childlike" -- isn't that the fresh, open place, uncluttered by life's baggage?

Waiting for the next squall

A couple of years ago, RNB and I went sailing. Not just an afternoon excursion on the big lake in our little sailboat. No, this was a week on a chartered sailboat on some open and windy parts of the Atlantic. RNB skippered the boat and I crewed. It was a challenge for me. My preferred risks are land-based and mostly involving big, quick, hoofed mammals. RNB likes the ocean and I like the idea of the ocean.

What I didn't know when we left land was that RNB would be happy fighting for survival on a sailboat in a hurricane. Me? I would be happy drifting lazily on calm seas.

Our sailing was mostly somewhere in the middle -- steady winds except in harbor, moderate swells at times, some swift tides to negotiate entering some gorgeous areas where we could moor the boat for overnights and snorkeling.

What neither of us knew is that we would encounter major squalls on our way back the last day. The wind would come up suddenly and we would fight to stay on board while lowering some sail in the hopes of riding out the gigantic waves without being blown over or off course too much. Then the wind would quiet and we would rest. Well, RNB would fall asleep while I fretted about what had just happened and fretted that it may happen again. Which it did... I remember the feeling of bracing myself with all four hands and feet, steering while RNB was hauling in the lines, lowering or raising a sail.

Why am I writing about this now?

Lately life seems like that sailing trip we took. We are on a boat with no other option but keep sailing. Moderate steady winds are the norm. And with a few major squalls already weathered, I am waiting for the next one to come. It could blow like that at any time. And when the next squall hits, all I will be able to do is focus, hold on with every fiber of my being, and hope we are spared by the forces threatening to overpower us. Then breathe deeply and relish the calm seas that surprise me as much as the squalls.

Fond fund raising memories

Finally I got a picture from the annual Ride A Thon, one of High Horses' major fund raising events. It warms my heart to view this picture, partly because there I am smiling in the good company of a colleague/friend/neighbor and our horses, partly because there I am riding on a warm sunny day.

We had a high today of 20 something degrees. Brrrrrrrr!

About 25 riders raised over $9,000 this year. Here we are at the end of a 4 1/2 hour ride which we expected would be a 2 1/2 hour ride. It was much hillier and longer than estimated!

Am I ready to ride?

I won't ride my Rusty gelding unless I can meet certain condition. In fact, I won't mount any horse unless:

1) I check him out before I ride doing ground work to connect with him and see how directable he is at walk, trot, backing, turns, standing still.

2) I can be present enough to notice what he can handle today and not take him anyplace (even to the other end of the arena) if he shows ANY concern whatsoever. If my mind is preoccupied, I cannot offer that to us.

3) I can ride out any expressions of his worries that might happen despite all my best precautions. If my physical and mental abilities are limited and I cannot promise us that I will ride those first seconds of power burst then start directing him, rather than let my fear reaction take over and add oil to the fire (grabbing with my inner thighs, holding my breath, picking up the reins with the hope of slowing him) then I have no business being on top of a horse.

Hence I have not ridden Rusty often since I'm still healing an injury from last March. It's a tall order for me as a human and a rider. One I can fill now and then. I have ridden Rusty 4 times, all in the ring, since March. I am certain I cannot count on myself to ride through any big, worried movements he might offer because I have missed signs of his smaller worries -- my survival instinct is still too strong as I want to protect myself from further pain.

I have ridden my Morgan mare, Kacee, many times. Her concern shows itself earlier and smaller, or at least I can recognize it sooner and direct her to something that suits me better. Plus I follow the same rules for her as for Rusty but have found that if I take care of 1 and 2, then 3 doesn't arise. And if it arises, her survival instinct in action is more a straight forward gallop compared to Rusty who will buck and bound, almost not really knowing what is his own plan to get to safety. Kacee's plan is clear and distinct -- run for home -- and I can ride that until there is room in her mind for some direction from me. But as I indicated, I like to answer her questions about who is making our decisions before I leave the ring.

Anyway, following an injury -- especially a horse-scared-me-scared-me-hurt event -- I do a ton of thinking, wondering what did I miss leading to this event, and what can I do differently to prevent any recurrences. And then approach the whole relationship more cautiously but at the same time with more certainty about what I have learned and can now do differently in order to keep us connected and safe or at least within sight of our comfort zones.

It is too easy to forget all the possible ways we can be in the path of harm. Those moments of forgetting -- of diminished awareness -- are the moments that leave us vulnerable. Developing a clear sense of whether I can stay in my own thoughtful and aware state while riding -- that is my main job. I know how to ride, I have adequate technique under my belt about horses and riding. It is the other stuff now that will only grow and expand for the rest of my life. And wanting a long and active rest of my life, I'll stay on the ground with a horse until I am confident we are connected -- not just that the horse is doing what I ask, but that the horse and I are tuned in and on the same wave length -- the horse is feeling open to my leadership presence and looking for my direction, not just accepting it or worse, just tolerating it.

And my baseline of what a calm, ready horse looks like and feels like keeps changing as my awareness grows.

And actually, after an injury, I am riding less as I become more aware. I honor the (temporarily greater) gap between my mind and my body -- my body is not as strong and agile as it could be right now (the injuries) and my instincts to protect myself are stronger than my intent to behave as the best rider I can be. So I am on the ground for the most part and learning, learning, learning as I interact, pay attention, interact some more.

These words come to mind (attributable to Tom Dorrance as well as Alexander Graham Bell): Observe, remember, compare...

Added note regarding books I bought

Leif Hallberg's Walking the Way of the Horse is basically a text book for equine facilitated mental health and education. More details about the book can be found on the Equestrian Network Magazine: Book Review by Martha McNiel.

Quoting from there: "The first half of the book (chapters one through eleven) comprise a stand-alone book covering the history of the horse-human relationship; the history of the field of Equine Facilitated Mental Health and Education Services; and theoretical perspectives and ethical considerations for EFMH/ES services. The second half of the book (chapters twelve through twenty-one) are a second complete book, covering eight different methods of theory and practice in EFMH/ES work. Each book could have been published separately, but the need for a comprehensive text book necessitated that all this information be included in one large volume."

2008 NARHA National Conference

I was in Hartford, CT recently for the 2008 NARHA National Conference. Basically the biggest professional event in the US in the field of therapeutic riding and equine facilitated mental health and learning. It was great.

I started my week away from home with a visit to meet in person some wonderful bloggers I know. Their blogs are Teachings of the Horse, Grey Horse Matters, and Glenshee Equestrian Centre. Wonderful horse people to get to know better!

The next day I spent at Green Chimneys, a farm-based residential center in NY that serves close to 200 youths. That was a pre-conference workshop. Then three and a half days of workshops, presentations, food, and comraderie aka networking.

And I presented there as well, on Saturday as part of the "Horse Expo" at the Storrs, CT campus of UConn. A big thanks to the UConn Equine Studies program!

I purchased four books after some contact and conversation with each author, both to support these wonderful professionals and to have convenient access to their thoughts via the books.

1) Walking the Way of the Horse: Exploring the Power of the Horse-Human Relationship, by Lief Hallberg

2) Riding into Your Mythic Life: Transformational Adventures with the Horse, by Patricia Broersma

3) My Horse, My Partner: Teamwork on the Ground, by Lisa Wysocky

4) Hello Bob! + 49 Other Interactive Vaulting Games, by Gisela H. Rhodes

I have to write up an evaluation report on the workshops I attended (which I predict I will post here when I'm done). These are the titles of those workshops I attended (there were often 4-5 workshops running concurrently):

EFMHA Workshop: 60 Years of Practice: The Impact of the Green Chimneys Farm Nature Based Program Approach.

Managing Stress in Your Equine Herd - Lisa Wysocky.

Working with Nonverbal Learning in a Therapeutic Riding Setting - Becky Lundeen, CCC, SLP, HPCS.

Horses and Individuals with Autism: A Natural Therapeutic Relationship - Deborah Lipsky and Will Richards, PhD.

The Important Relationship Between Autism and Movement and How a Horse Can Help - Nancy Stellrecht, PT, HPCS.

Equine Facilitated Group Therapy with Teen Survivors of Sexual Abuse - Molly DePrekel MA, LP and Kay Neznik.

Stepping Stones to Success: How to Achieve and Measure Skill Progression During a Riding Lesson - Anthony Busacca and Amy Sheets.

Transitioning the Hippotherapy Client into the Therapeutic Riding Arena - Laura Simak and Debbie Sords, PT.

Advanced Leader Horse Handling - Lasell Bartlett MSW.

Understanding Equine Behavior & Desensitizing - Holly Sundmacker and Lauren Fitzgerald.

Creating Symmetry between Horse and Rider - Tracy McGowan.

Teaching and differences

It is interesting how much overlap there is between teaching people with disabilities, teaching horses, and teaching 'normal' people who are handling and riding horses. I guess it's all on some strange continuum perhaps related to brain size, potential for complex thinking, and access to frontal lobe/thinking brain.

The ones with less ability to access their thinking brain in 'normal' ways -- and those would be the humans with 'disabilities' (the humans with VERY different ways of thinking and communicating) and the horses -- draw out more patience, curiosity, determination, and creativity in order for me to feel some satisfaction in my chosen role as instructor, trainer, consultant, etc. I am not one to feel OK about saying the same thing over and over again in hopes something will sink in (although key principles certainly don't change).

I have learned to do a sort of triage when teaching (although I have not before put this into words). I may not ever be able to help a rider's ankle mobility for example, if that rider has cerebral palsy, but within the limits of safety, I can help that rider feel more balanced, more in tune with and in charge of their horse despite limitations of body position and flexibility.

So that experience might in turn influence my focus with a 'normal' rider. (And please know, I'm not convinced there is a 'normal'!) If my effort to influence position of body parts for example is not resulting in a change, I will focus on something else so the rider CAN succeed and will at least feel good about the learning process, and hopefully I can also help the rider make some changes and be better able to influence their horse to do what the rider wants to be doing.

And that will also influence my approach with a horse. Perhaps I need to adjust my focus today to fit what the horse is ready to do today, rather than force my agenda and perhaps get X or Y accomplished but without that 'I'm OK with what we're doing' feeling that is an ingredient I highly value.

I find I have to be in an open-minded creative mindset or else I miss a learning opportunity -- mine OR my student's. For example with a rider with autism -- and no two are alike at all except for the umbrella generalization that they will perceive the world and communicate about their perceptions in ways that surprise, puzzle, and amaze me -- like with a horse, I consider it my job to find how to communicate successfully. The horse left on its own is not likely to come asking me how to be more balanced when doing a turn on the hindquarters, nor is a person with autism likely to come ask me for anything, much less instruction in something foreign and perhaps even a bit frightening.

And with these two 'sorts' -- horses and riders with autism -- I must keep refining what I notice so I can more accurately perceive their communications that come either spontaneously or in response to something I have expressed. No big surprise to many, this ability for anyone or any horse to be communicating very clearly -- according to their perceptions -- while OUR reception of their communication is usually impaired.

I would say the same thing for 'normal' students. When communications are not happening as we would expect (I say ABC, rider understands ABC and proceeds to attempt ABC versus I say ABC, rider understands ACF and proceeds to attempt AFG), then something, somewhere in the communication system is not working. I tend to start with me and what I might change -- words I chose, checking what the student understood of my instruction, etc. Then I wonder about the rider's current state and if anything (like emotions, internal monologues, etc.) is preventing access to listening, absorbing, acting on new input.

When that is the case -- for example with a 'normal' rider who has residual fear from a past relationship (could be a fall of this horse, could be a disruption from a human relationship that messes up the ability to be assertive and clear without emotion, etc.) -- and thanks to my professional clinical experience, I will open the door for us to air out some of the subterranean stuff that is interfering. Of course not all riders are open to this, but the ones who continue to ask for lessons with me have learned that this is part of what they get. I am not interested in helping a rider who refuses to acknowledge that the emotional, mental, physical, and spiritual aspects we bring to our equine relationships are very important. Admittedly, this may not be a conversation we have in the first few lessons, however when I hear riders express frustration or anger at themselves or their horses, I respond to that, not just their balance, their posture, their timing, etc.

Lessons in drywall

I am proud that I am finding ways to explore, discover, learn, and become more aware and effective while doing something quite... err, well, mundane. If I weren't intent on studying life, I might call the task horribly boring and certainly tiring. Putting in drywall screws all over the walls in our new house readying it for taping and mudding. I get out the knee pads if I'm really low to the ground, and I get on the step ladder if I'm higher up. Due to my beloved shoulder, I have my height limits!

I watched a couple of times when Mark Rashid change his available power by adjusting the form of his skeletal alignment. He was doing things from the core and with intention, using a willing clinic participant to help him demonstrate some ways to be effective while staying soft, using our core rather than strength. The core and intention are augmented by proper alignment of the body. I have a tendency to drop my left hip back, so when using the cordless drill today, I kept adjusting my pelvic orientation to be perpendicular to the direction of force, and each time I did that my task was easier.

When riding and walking, I have been focused on my right hip 'stuck forward'. It is quite a lot easier to bring my left hip forward than to bring my right hip back. I'll see what happens with this discovery next time I ride.

Mark Rashid Clinic

Here are some of my notes from a recent clinic with Mark Rashid and his wife, Crissi. Unlike previous note-taking, I did this after the clinic not while it was happening.

Be the magic. Don't act then wait for the magic to happen.

Lead -- rather than ask my horse to do something then join her in what I've asked or pushed her to do.

I can.

Any thoughts I have are distractions from our connection.

The greater my awareness, the more responsibility I have.

Softness comes in many forms. It comes from the joy and connection, not from doing something like someone else is doing.

"Getting through the brace" is quite literally that. Nothing esoteric at all. Simply using my intention in action to move through the brace, move to the other side of the brace. Not push against it with the hope of helping the horse reconnect with my plan.

Feeling my legs/energy down and encompassing my horse. No more 'my legs' and 'her body'.

Stark realization of my stopping point regarding canter departs. My mind went something like this: 'I hear Mark telling me we can do it, that my horse is ready. I believe things Mark says. But me? Do this now? I don't think so.' My realization came the evening after day one of a 2 day clinic. The next day I went to my riding time with a deeper level of openness to Mark's direction. I had a smaller gap between hearing directions and acting on them. Progress!

I have a significant brace against being told what to do, even when the person telling me (Mark) and the direction being given (being soft and effective and connected) are 100% what I want and coming from a source I respect and trust. Regardless of my conscious wants, the brace keeps me from simply following directions and discovering how easy it is to be the magic. (My husband had a big 'aha' moment followed by laughter when I shared this realization with him -- he knows this brace well!)

Mark spoke about people who die in head-on collisions because they are focused on the oncoming car rather than seeing the openings to the left or right where they can direct their own vehicle. I realized I can adapt the same 'look for the openings' when my braces show up. Instead of staying focused on 'oh, look, here's my brace', I can look for how to blend. Make THAT my practice now that I am aware of this brace.

Blending and bracing cannot coexist.

Make horse versus help horse versus do this together. Make and help reflect dualities of me and horse. Do this together reflects the actual togetherness that exists everywhere (except in our thoughts about things).

There were many opportunities to learn these things experientially - riding my horse and engaged with energy stuff with Mark and other clinic participants. It was super. These clinics are healing.

Quote

From CharityFocus.org :

Be The Change:
What do you consider to be the most invaluable aspect of your own life? Find a way of sharing it with others.

I signed up for daily emails from their website. Today's message was especially meaningful to me.

In some areas of my life I feel like I have been knocking at doors that are locked. Not locked and barricaded, but locked. Last night I started thinking about resuming writing activity on the book my father told me to write. Then this email quote arrived and bingo -- feels like it's addressing just what I need to hear.

There are ways I can share what is important to me. These ways may not be the ones I have thought were available to me, the ones that I thought would open doors with that lovely flow of Things Going Right with the Universe.

I have a long history of not listening to what my father has to say, and certainly spent many of my younger years doing exactly what he told me not to do. Two biggest examples are: Do not ride a motorcycle. I forbid you to hitchhike.

Perhaps without his disapproval -- his adamant disapproval -- I may never have pursued those two high risk activities. But he disapproved and I was compelled to act. Despite some mishaps in each arena of high risk behavior, I am alive and able to recall and reflect and make other choices.

So it struck me when, last spring, he told me to write a book about what we were discussing. Horse oriented of course. And I started right then and there. So I have the beginnings of this book and as I said, yesterday it called to me. Time to focus my attention to this possible way to share something I highly value.

Of course, time will tell how deep is my commitment to this. I am so quickly distracted at times from completing some very dear endeavors.

"Withyouness"

I just read a mini-report from a friend who rode with Harry Whitney in a recent clinic in Virginia. She focussed on a new word Harry was using: "withyouness" and how it has helped her with her horses.

I like that word. It reflects the core of what is so important: I am present, horse is present, we are present together.

Harry has long talked about horses holding back, not giving 100%. His use of "withyouness" points us toward what we want to be replacing that holding back.

I like to think in terms of people behavior -- often my own -- to help understand horse behavior. I am very familiar with doing something half-heartedly. Of doing something reluctantly. Of doing something 'just because' without a lot of energy. Just getting by.

It doesn't feel good when I proceed like that. Every cell in my body, every micron of energy is compromised. We are designed to do things with all of our energy, focus, physical and spiritual gusto. Although looking at the social systems that contain and define so much of our expressions, dreams, and day to day actions -- who would know we are really designed for such a passionate existence? We are so often praised and rewarded for mediocrity.

I love telling frustrated parents of precocious and/or willful children: hey, these things that are driving you nuts right now are qualities of a great leader in the future!

So back to our horses... Our horses become dull with us. Often to suit our degree of dullness, of holding back. Often to suit our fear of living life fully -- in full awareness, in full integrity, no more little white lies to ourselves or others... A little intimidating even to consider it!

A dull horse is unpredictable. We do not know what lurks below the dullness. A dull horse is difficult to direct. Our requests have to permeate through an unknown series of levels before we are heard. A dull horse is defended. Defended against our chronic absence perhaps?

I need to bring myself more fully into the present moment in order to be with my horse in the present. It means practicing being present. It means grieving and laying to rest familiar habits of this or that which help keep me someplace else. It means pursuing with passion that which is important to me: connection, togetherness, "withyouness". It means facing my fears as quickly as they surface to consciousness so they no longer pull me away from the Now.

When my horse is confident I am here with and for him, then I will have earned his attention and respect, and he will not simply allow me to direct him, but he will melt or meld into my sensible leadership performance.

Because we tend to think and act as if our horses and our Selves are separate beings, this "withyouness" concept is potent. It can help us think our way into a together place, to recognize it and appreciate it when we find it either because of our prolonged and determined search for it, or because of a moment of grace when we are gifted with an experience of this present connectedness.

Update on Soli

He is well loved by his temporary family in Maine. Being ridden, driven, and appreciated for what he knows.

Here he is being ground driven as PG practices before getting in the cart:



And here are PG and DG going for their first drive together off their property:

Jumping for joy

I had fun the other day. With Kacee. About as good as it gets.

I had planned to take Rusty to spend some time with Kathleen Lindley, however Rusty has injured his left hind and needs time off from riding. So Kacee it was to be.

Our day started off challenging right at home, and left me confident that taking Kacee was the best thing possible. I needed guidance figuring out how to help her better than I have helped her, especially when it comes time to catch her and trailer her.

That part wasn't fun, but I kept close to my breathing and did not sink into emotions while helping Kacee stay in the trailer. She loads fine, but is not calm about staying in the trailer. I need to have trailer loading for any of the horses be a time when the horse does not question me or hesitate. This would be important if there were an emergency -- hesitating could be life threatening.

Kathleen guided us step by step until we were happily trotting and cantering over jumps, breathing, together, me guiding Kacee with ease and great pleasure. Kathleen reminded us to think of it as a transition and forget about the jump. By the end, I felt like my body memories of jumping (45 years ago!) got reunited with this older body, augmented by consciously breathing around the ring and using my breath for the transitions. And Kacee blew my mind -- she was eager, responsive, and willing to go where I wanted her to go and transition when I asked.

It was me who needed Kathleen's gentle clarity, not Kacee. Kacee was just waiting for me to take more responsibility for the good times we can have. I have had a tendency to ask for something from Kacee then accept what she offers, whenever that might be. Instead of kindly asking again and helping her give me a more precise answer, like canter here, not half way around the ring.

From my presenting a global goal -- Kacee feels good about doing things with me -- to being helped to get specific -- Kacee canters at this ground pole -- it all added up to a big smile on my face and in my heart.

Call me the tortoise

I'm in New York today. Here for a couple of days to audit a clinic with Leslie Desmond, and connect with some horsey friends I've not seen in a while. It was a long drive over yesterday after a short night's sleep, but well worth it and I picked up a few things I hadn't noticed so clearly in my prior times with Leslie, and these things will be useful.

Useful at least to me and my horses at home. I still wonder how to bridge the gap between 'normal' pressure and release horsemanship and what Leslie is presenting, release without pressure. I wonder because it is relatively very easy to teach people to handle with more subtle, gentle use of aids, but still on the pressure and release continuum. Taking this next step of teaching people how to really think like horses in terms of space, that remains something I wonder about.

I suppose that the more I fully incorporate it into what I'm doing with my horses, the easier it will be to pass it along. It is something I will explore, but with full understanding and support from 'my boss' at the therapeutic riding program because... well because it means asking each of our volunteers to not just shift their thinking and behavior habits, it means asking them to relinquish something that is quite familiar in order to have an opening to learn something quite unfamiliar in the horse world.

But it never means letting go of all one has learned before. It means adding something.

It is something I will continue to wonder about regarding those work roles, but I have no doubt I'll be using it more than ever before with my horses. I wish I had a webcam behind my eyes so I could share some of what I saw yesterday, and last year, and 3 years ago, and 9 years ago... It's a little humbling to admit this is nothing new, and admit how long and slow it's been for me to integrate something I value so highly! But there it is. Call me the tortoise, not the hare, when it comes to shifting well established patterns.

Quiet

Quiet on the outside, quiet on the inside. Busy on the outside, sometimes quiet on the inside. That is my goal, to remain quiet on the inside regardless of what stirs around me.

Fall is here. Last week I noticed Kacee's coat is dark chestnut. Overnight she added some winter coat and shed some summer coat and she has that lovely dark shine again. Her coat changes all of a sudden like no other.

Teaching comes in blocks of seven or eight weeks of a 2 month period. So we just started the fall session which covers weeks in September and October. I am teaching more this fall as well as busy with more projects around finishing our new home.

I like the cooler weather. It is usually my favorite riding time. In my latest attempt to let my shoulder (and now hip, too) heal up well, I am avoiding some activities I most love: riding, dancing, walking around close to the therapeutic riding students while they ride.

Doing less is helping my body feel better, and quite a challenge for my mind. I've long been a person whose mind settles when the body is active. Conversely, well, you can imagine.

I get regular reports on Soli who is living with friends in Maine. They love him! He is so deserving of their attention -- that quite overrides any 'missing him' feelings that pop up. I have some trail and clinic rides coming up, and I may show up and ride without much preparation if I don't resume my mounted activities before then. I suspect riding would be less painful than ground work, but am not willing to test that theory yet.

So many great things on the horizon, so many low key life chores near by. A strange year. Unsettling owning two homes. Unsettling when I look to the political climate. Unsettling when I acknowledge I have no idea if and when I'll ever feel as carelessly mobile as I used to.

Then there is now with another breath. I have been spending more time meditating than in a long time. What else can one do when one cannot do many things?

Inspiring website to connect with: www.CharityFocus.org

Creativity, clarity, trust

The more I think clearly and creatively,
the more I ride with clarity and creativity.

I said that.

I was conversing with someone about why I spend time writing. Writing brings clarity to my internal world. Writing about horse stuff brings clarity and definition (think: high definition TV) to my horse time. I am creative when I think, seeking to find patterns and associations between ideas and experiences, seeking to find an opening between the thoughts so a ray of light will illuminate something I've been pondering.

When I am clear but not creative, I can be dull. Exact, but dull.

I watched a DVD today called The Path of the Horse by Stormy May. Buy it, borrow it, go watch with a friend who owns it if you are someone who seeks to discover and enjoy the finer, more subtle aspects of relating with horses. I cried watching it. It stimulated some clarity about my work roles, especially regarding where my heart lies when I'm teaching people and teaching horses.

What a joke! Me teaching horses. I am the student.

Yes, I am expected to teach, and do teach, and bring the best of my patience and my support to human students so they can develop their confidence, creative problem solving, presence... I want independent thinking, sometimes much to the horror of parents who perceive impudence where I see assertiveness and individuality. I like to remind parents that when their child is an adult, the very qualities they dislike now will be the ones that bring them success. Think of the outspoken child who questions authority.

How about the horse who questions authority? Can we welcome that, too? Can we trust that a horse who expresses a strong opinion will also be a horse who wants to jump over a fence, stand still for mounting, accept hugs from a grieving owner?

I have many adventures waiting, assuming I can offer a degree of trust and willingness that might one day approach the trust and willingness our horses offer us.

Changes for Soli

These are times of changes. Certainly eruptions and shifts deep within, and some milder changes without.

Yesterday I took our Haflinger, Soli, to live for a year or so in Maine with some friends who voiced the desire to learn to drive. RNB is not doing anything with Soli, I am not doing anything with Soli, and these folks would love to learn from him and with him. It was clear and simple and quick from the start of our conversations to my delivering him.

It was a mini-vacation for me as well. I slept about 10 hours last night in their guest room! I had little idea how tired I was.

Soli -- well, he'll be fine there. I gave my friends the puzzle of his buggy harness and they sorted it out and harnessed him up with few directions from me. I demonstrated ground driving him after he was hitched to the cart, then each of them took over the reins and one by one got into the cart and practiced in their ring. They were great. He is not a horseman, she is. Soli took them both in stride. I've never before seen this man wear a smile as wide as when he had the reins and was steering Soli through some cones.

This morning, we went out in twos (she and I, then she and he) for a drive up the road and back.

Soli is such a social horse. I never noticed as much as those hours there in Maine. I show up and he comes to be close. He offered almost as much eagerness to them as well.

They have two mares who were not very interested in Soli. I suspect that will change but pointed out how for now that can help Soli think well of what the humans have to offer -- not just hay and water and grooming, but companionship.

I'm grateful Soli did not whinny as I drove off. That would have tipped the tears out of my eyes...

Whose grief?

Maybe it was not my grief that surrounded me. I just learned that the husband of a friend died suddenly this weekend. Regardless of whose loss, the feelings were strong and colored my waking hours. Poor dear friend.

Softness and tears

Many months ago, I set my intention to be soft.

It seems lately, with softness come tears. Often. With little or no sense of 'why'. Some days my eyes are blurry with extra wetness all day long. Some days a bit of flooding with a sense of sorrow occurs. Some days I'm so busy I miss softness while focused on accomplishing something -- nothing wet those days.

Today is a wet day in my eyes, a soft day in my heart. Maybe more tears and softness come after a period of defensiveness. That would make sense. And in the presence of my horses, I let go of defenses, wanting to simply connect in a place where my mind is quiet, my heart is open.

Little upsets here and there in my life. Some major stresses as well, but nothing I can control so really, what can one do but focus on one foot stepping after the next. Or feeling the breeze enliven my skin when the feet (and the mind) stop. Or listening to the bells clanging as the sheep move about the closer field I've opened to them.

Grief keeps surprising me.

I am mortal. I am reminded through recent contact with a cancer survivor of this. Reviewing my own experience with diagnosis and treatment allows bubbles of memories to surface from the past. So many changes, inside and out, since that experience.

I miss my mother. The anniversary of her death was last week. More bubbles float outward from the depths of me.

My role is changing with the horse herd at the therapeutic riding program where I work. I suspect some of my sorrow and uncertainty is connected with that. We hired a horse herd coordinator who is skilled and thoughtful and doing a superb job managing all aspects of the herd's needs. This is all good, however my role as the fill-in trainer is over. I liked that role. But of all the responsibilities of the herd coordinator, that was really the only one I wanted, which kept me from applying for the job myself.

It is curious that I've been wandering around though my life for weeks now with these teary eyes. And feeling OK about not knowing what was behind all this. I still can't say with confidence "I know", but today I have hints.

A spiritual teacher once said, "Not knowing is most intimate." I puzzled for years about this, but I think I'm starting to understand his meaning.

I renew my commitment to softness. I trust one day softness will bring laughter and joy. Today it brings tears. I can accept what I do not understand. I can allow what I do not understand. Can I celebrate what I do not understand?

Adjusting plans

Today I was finally going to ride to the local farm stand, about three miles down gravelly dirt roads. I rode Kacee yesterday, haven't ridden Rusty much at all, so figured I'd ride Soli, our dear been-there-done-that Haflinger.

But Soli is lame. I'm guessing he had an unplanned slide in the field. Weight bearing but gimpy, I brought him in, checked him over, groomed and trimmed him, and turned him out in the paddock behind the barn.

So now what?

Riza! Saddle!

I saddled her like yesterday, although I added a saddle pad. She was a teensy bit concerned but accepted it quickly. Horses learn by social modeling, by watching what other horses do. I had read this and then experienced it vividly when I taught the horses to stand their front feet on the platform RNB built. It took some time for the first horse to figure out what I wanted, and trust that is what I wanted, then the others who appeared to be grazing nearby, each stepped up on it the first or second try.

So when Riza was cautious about the saddle pad, I rubbed it on nearby Kacee then brought it back to Riza. Once she was fine with it, on her back, off her back, from both sides, I left it there and added the saddle. Another major ho-hum moment.

Time to add to this. I gathered halter and lead, some rhythm bells for the neck and for the ankle, and some reflective ankle cuffs with velcro closure and we headed for the round pen.

Walk and trot both direction with the saddle. Put ankle cuffs on her fronts. Walk and trot both directions. Removed the ankle cuffs and put rhythm bells on front foot. Walk and trot both directions. Moved the bells to a hind foot. Walk and trot both directions. Removed them and put the rhythm bells necklace on. Walk and trot one direction. Removed the bells and hooked her halter (which she hasn't been wearing all this time except for the initial journey to the round pen) to the saddle. Walk and trot both directions. Moved the halter to hang from the other side. Walk and trot both directions.

All this ho-hum stuff. Admittedly this filly has a gentle nature, moderately ready to submit within the herd, and has had little handling and most of that has been simple and understandable -- stand for trimming, stand for grooming, follow whoever carries the lead rope. I am certain that my efforts to add new elements to what I want her to learn in as careful increments as I can figure, is part of why this is all going so well. I thank Mark Rashid's influence for this. He talks about chains of knowledge, and he and his wife Crissi have advised me to work on one thing, then on another day, work on something else.

Overwhelm doesn't just come when a deer comes scooting across the trail. It comes when we ask a horse to learn too much too fast. Because I am in NO hurry these days, it suits me to proceed slowly, slowly through the lessons I want to instill in this little horse.

I suppose it helps that I've been teaching more lately, and especially teaching more therapeutic riding lessons. I am continuously seeking to introduce ideas in ways that the student has the best chance of learning. For some that means I might use 2-3 words and model an action, and wait. For some it means I hold the rider's hands and do the action for them, time after time after time, maybe for a few lessons, maybe for a half a year. And one day it clicks and they can do what I ask when they hear my request.

So I know a little about patience. That frame of mind is not always accessible, but I strive to have it be my way of life. It suits the horses, whom sometimes I describe as 3 or 4 year old children. Would we start yelling and slapping a three year old who didn't understand what we wanted? I sure hope not. (And having worked in child protective services early in my social work career, I know that some children that age do indeed get hurt due to the misunderstandings and frustrations of their caregivers. I am not naive about that.)

So I figure that as long as I bring my best to the barn, am present and focussed on helping Riza with learning what humans might want from her at a pace that makes sense to her, I have a good chance of ending up with a fun horse to ride. Fun to me means I'm on a horse who understands what I want us to do, and feels good about my requests and is somewhere between willing and eager to do things with me.

Another thing I'll attribute to Mark (though I know others of my teachers have offered me similar direction) is that sense of doing things together. Not me learning the nicest way to make my horse do something. Yes, that felt better than using less nice ways to make a horse do things. But actively cultivating that 'together' feeling, that's what I'm talking about. We're doing this together. If you aren't able or willing to do this with me right now, what can I do to help you change your mind, help you feel like connecting with me is a good idea?

I mention all this because when I was with Riza today, and we did all that walk and trot both directions, it wasn't always that simple. She has her mild ways of leaving me mentally, heading to sniff some manure, slowing near where the other horses are hanging out outside the round pen, changing direction when I haven't asked for that. But she is easy. I've kept things as clear and simple as I know how, and when I'm with her, this is reflected. I am thankful for this opportunity to experiment with a young horse drawing on the best of what I've learned.

I get along fabulously with my other horses when I treat them like I'm treating Riza. Each encounter is fresh. For each activity I'm asking, 'How well do you know how to do this that I'm asking? Some confusion? Ok, let's review this before we proceed.'

Now I will use the gas engine vehicle to go buy some fresh vegetables. I'm keen on putting up a variety of vegetables and berries for winter's use. This fall I'll freeze lots of local apples like I did last year. Nothing much more yummy than eating in March some baked apples freshly prepared and frozen in October. I'm hungry!

Here is the round pen with platform in the center.

Riza wears a saddle

A first for today. Riza and a saddle.

Her preparation for this non-event has been lessons in leading, lunging/circling with one long line, ground driving with two lines, wearing a vaulting surcingle at the walk and trot. Not often for any of these. Like, once or twice. Well, the initial leading lessons were time consuming, until she got it.

I have some clear expectations of my space/boundaries when leading a horse. Riza had been led to expect (no pun intended) that people like her to be close, very, very close, and that she can make the decision to come close whenever it suits her.

For my sense of safety I have a different expectation. Horse may come close when I invite or allow. I may come close to horse when I want, and I will wait for permission to approach is given, unless it's an urgent situation then I break rules left and right.

After trimming and riding Kacee (recycling trip to town today), and trimming and grooming Rusty, I turned them out with Riza behind the barn. Hmm, a few extra minutes on my hands -- what can I do with Riza?

Saddle her!

I got out an older and inexpensive (hence I won't be upset if it gets trashed) close contact saddle -- lightweight for my shoulder's sake -- and brought it outside where the three horses were munching hay. I asked if I could approach, permission granted, and she sniffed the saddle. I lifted it over her back and set it there, still holding it. She walked off and I took a few steps with her as I lifted the saddle off her as she left.

She stopped, I approached again, and we did the same, except this time, holding the saddle, I let it slide off her rump as she left.

She stopped, I approached again, and she stood as I placed the saddle on her back briefly, then removed it and I walked off first. To the barn to get a girth.

Have I mentioned lately how accepting and calm this horse is?

Did I mention I intentionally chose to do this without a halter and lead? I wanted her to really know she could leave if she didn't want to do this with me today.

So I put the saddle on her again and she resumes eating hay while I go back and forth from side to side getting the girth set up. For a shorter horse, she has a deep chest and I first miscalculated, putting the girth up too high on the off side. Then I girthed it up, tightened it another hole, and walked off. In fact I came inside for about 10 minutes.

When I returned, with camera in hand, she was just as mellow as before, had moved to another spot for more hay munching, and stood calmly while I removed the saddle after taking pictures.

I usually start out with my western saddle but with my shoulder still hurting (interrupted the healing while stacking hay last week), I decided to build her confidence in the saddling process with a light weight saddle. Eventually she'll carry the weight and bulk and dangling stuff, but not until I am certain she will accept it like she accepted the english saddle today.

Anyway -- ho-hum -- here is Riza wearing a saddle for the first time.

I've been "tagged"

Nor'dzin who blogs at ceffylau.blogspot.com has tagged me. I accept the tag (though a good old fashioned game of chase tag would suit me just fine!) and will share six things about myself that you may not know.

1. The first time I tried downhill skiing I sprained my knee and was carried to the first aid shack in the arms of my MD father. I was seven and mad that he didn't wait for the ski patrol to come fetch me with their toboggan. Perhaps I was really mad because my childhood dream of becoming a Radio City Rockette was threatened by this injury. In fact, the real threat had already come when we moved to a small town whose only dance teacher broke both legs in a car accident.

2. I was a devout rebel starting in my early teens. Anything I was told not to do by my parents, I made sure I did. The biggest offenses (aka adventures) were after they said "I forbid you to hitchhike there," and "Motorcycles are dangerous, you can't ride one." My most exciting hitchhiking was a trip from London to Athens. The hitchhiking trip I used to brag most about was from New York to Portland, Oregon -- bragging about starting the trip with $5 in my pocket and arriving in Portland with $20. I learned that every trucker I met was kind, generous, and protective. [Disclaimer: I no longer recommend hitch hiking!]

3. I have sung in public both as back up singer for a singer-songwriter friend, and as one of a six-woman acappella group. I stopped because the performance anxiety was greater than the joy of singing. I am certain that in an alternate life, I was/would be/am a rock and roll star.

4. I had a breast cancer experience twelve years ago. I spent the first five weeks after diagnosis pretty much in bed, reading, writing, drawing, wailing, talking on the phone, dealing with the "C" word. After surgeries were done and chemotherapy commenced, I realized I was going to survive. In an effort to invest in my future, I took scuba diving lessons and went on a scuba diving vacation, for which I had to rearrange my scheduled chemo. My oncologist supported my assertiveness. For radiation, I created my own "johnny" out of flannel covered with images of cats. I later passed this along to another woman in treatment for breast cancer, who later passed it to another woman... Some days I wonder, 'Who has it now?'

5. My favorite stores are hardware stores and stationery stores. I own and operate many power tools, and RNB has introduced me to heavy equipment. Most recently I have learned to operate a crane that suspends a custom cage for holding humans. Why would I do this? So RNB and a couple of helpers can install the ridge vents on a very large building on our new property. We will also use the crane to reconstruct an old post and beam barn that we dismantled and moved last year.

6. My favorite winter activity? Soaking in a hot tub, outdoors, regardless of the weather. Picture a wool cap in a misty cloud, dripping with melting snowflakes.

I will 'tag' some other bloggers, mostly for the purpose of helping new readers browse places I have enjoyed.

Michelle's Musings from the Bottom of Chestnut Hill

Walter's Sugar Mountain Farm

Susanna's The Bloggery

The ultimate irony of me and milkweed

Guess what?

I must have harvested a winter's worth of vegetables, and tossed them over the fence to rot.

Yup, you guessed it -- milkweed is edible.

What is edible about the common milkweed? Just about everything. The seed heads before they flower. The leaves. The seed pods before they dry up and open their gifts to the wind.

And the silky fibrous seed-bearing pod innards can be used for insulation, reportedly have a higher R-factor than goose down.

The joke is on me. However my many hours uprooting milkweed was well spent, deeply engrossed as I was, in the finer aspects of body awareness.

Thanks to google.com for connecting me with the these amazing details about edible milkweed. Now to peruse those edible weeds websites in search of additional delectable surprises.

Note: Before you go out and indiscriminately harvest the milkweed in your field, check locally to see if it's the edible sort. Not all of the milkweed family are edible.

Soli, by request

"Twinville", a reader who found my blogs via the Teachings of the Horse blog, would like to see more pictures of Soli, whose wide and powerful hindquarters are featured in my entry about being practical, the day I hitched him to pull the chain drag around the arena and groom the ground.

So here are some more pictures of our steady-eddy, been-there-done-that 22 year old Haflinger.


Two (?) summers ago, napping near a run in with four other equines.



Last winter, eating with the geese.



This year, standing quietly (not that he stands any other way!) after dragging the arena.

James Shaw and Milkweed

I spent the weekend in Massachusetts with my beloved Morgan mare, Fairlane Kacee, at a clinic with James Shaw who teaches Tai Chi for Equestrians. Fabulous. Fantastic. Changes in my body from two days of exercises on the ground and exercises in the saddle. I highly recommend him to everyone as I have yet to meet anyone whose strength and balance cannot be improved.

His website: http://www.shawtaichi.com

I was surprised by some of my imbalances.

I have been in the hay field again, finding new ways to pull milkweed with ever more ease and flow, incorporating ideas and experiences from the clinic with what I have learned from Aikido class and what I learn from living in my body.

Some lessons from this morning:

I found that I tended to grasp a plant, rotate my wrist to twist the plant, then sink back, bracing as I pulled using my weight rocked back.

Two hands cradling the stalk softly takes less effort than grabbing and pulling and is often more successful. New awareness about hands on reins: the different feels of grabbing versus grasping versus cradling.

Rotation during the uprooting adds to ease. Not just rotating my wrist after grasping the plant. Rotating my humorous bones, rotating my femurs, and rotating my lower back as I spiraled out, the plant coming with me.

The displaced bees accepted my suggestion to find nectar elsewhere in the field where I would not disturb them.

Milkweed growing in dry areas is harder to uproot.

My right side learns better biomechanics while working together with my left side.

My right shoulder doesn't hurt when I engage my back muscles for pulling, the muscles that hold the scapula and upper arm back, the ones that rotate the humorous.

If I never stopped to think about what I was doing, I would uproot milkweed with my left hand 90% of the time.

A plant uproots with greater ease when I am positioned so it is close to my center.

Having a learning focus made a rewarding adventure out of an otherwise tedious chore.

Lessons from the milkweed

I have been hand picking milkweed plants from the hay field because I don't want them cut and baled in the hay, I have some new awareness thanks to the milkweed.

Milkweed flowers attract bees.

Milkweed flowers produce a sweet alluring fragrance.

Each milkweed plant is unique.

The pulling up of each milkweed plant requires me to adjust the hold and angle, twist and pressure in order to smoothly remove the milkweed rather than break the stem.

Despite my best efforts, careful positioning and use of breath, core energy, and intention, some milkweed plants resist uprooting more than others.

Milk of plants and animals is sticky when drying on my skin.

Milkweed leaves are a courting or mating venue for some small bright, matte-finish red (not shiny red) beetles.

My left hand has a stronger grasp than my right hand.

My right hand is equally effective when grasping and pulling milkweed when I lower my center and move from my center rather than move my hand and arm as I'm uprooting each plant.

Although I first found tremendous ease when creating a triangle of my two feet and grasping hand, I later found it didn't matter which foot was forward.

A very, very few milkweed leaves have been eaten by something in the field.

Milkweed tend to grow in bunches in certain areas of the field, and not at all in other areas.

I am not compulsive about removing every single milkweed from the field.

The guineas are on bug and tick patrol in the field despite the height of the grasses growing there, more easily heard than seen.

I can remove the milkweed plants only one at a time.

There is always another milkweed plant to be pulled up.

Getting quiet internally and feeling gratitude for these plants does not guarantee they will yield to my efforts any more than when I pull unconsciously.

Got lemons? Make lemonade!

Today quickly turned into one of those too hot to do anything days. Bleh. And I'd hoped it would stay cool enough this morning for a ride.

So, after a brief lull in the creative thinking department, I had an idea. Let's see how each of the horses responds to the hose, and hopefully I'll get wet while doing this.

Great fun, and what a way to make these wicked hot, humid days bearable! Rusty was the first to get me wet as he mouthed the end of the hose and sent the spray every which way. Thank you, Snorkle Boy! (He earned that nickname the first time I convinced him walking into a wide, low stream was safe. He spent five minutes with his nose under water, blowing bubbles and seeking nibbles on the green stuff waving in the current.)

The next to get me wet was Soli -- similar antics with the water coming out of the hose. And then Riza, with her first time being hosed, had some similar effect through her curiosity, exploring this strange thing I was holding. Two other horses were not interested in mouthing the hose. The sixth horse was busy munching hay on the far side of the paddocks so never did get a hosing.

I think I'll go do this again. At least for my sake. Very pleasant to get wet then spend a few hours in the cool of the downstairs. I know it's still early summer when the downstairs is still cool.

Shoulders

I fall in with my right shoulder. Kacee falls in with her right shoulder. Which is easier to fix?

After many many rides where I'm focussed on placing her front feet out on the circle when we travel to the left and she's 'falling in', I realized she's just trying her best to go with me.

Today I fixed my shoulders on the circle and guess what happened! She maintained the circle much better.

Now if I could fix my hips going to the left that easily, I'd be a happy camper. I bet I can, I just haven't figured out how yet.

Stinging Nettle

This could be on my farm blog, as I came upon stinging nettle this morning while on a mission to clip back the thistle plants before they go to seed. However, I choose to write about it here, and hope the reason will be obvious.

Despite wearing gloves and using long handled clippers, some stinging nettle brushed my wrist. Oh darn! As I recall, the stinging feeling lasts for a few days followed by a period of numbness, then a return to normal. All for a moment of carelessness.

Then I remembered that where poison ivy grows, also grows the remedy for poison: jewel weed. So perhaps intertwined with the stinging nettle is a remedy? I quickly found a broad leafed plant, picked a few leaves and schmooshed them so their juices were available, and rubbed them on my wrist.

Stinging stopped. Stinging gone. No more stinging. No need to beat myself up as I looked ahead to days of suffering.

Nature is truly amazing.

OK, so why stinging nettle and remedy on this blog? Good question! I was about to write out a slew of ideas in response to this, but instead, I will leave a question for anyone's pondering...

Can you think of places in your life -- aside from the world of vegetation -- where the remedy essentially comes hand in hand with the stinging nettles?

Once again

I took the recycling by horseback Saturday morning.

Here is Kacee packed up and ready to go.



Here we are at the town recycling.



I think I will purchase a set of bright neon green (high visibility color) bags with some meaningful logo for these trips to town. I'm not sure whether I want to display the traditional recycling logo or a business logo. Maybe both!

The trip to town, downhill, and more or less not the most favorite thing Kacee wanted to do, lasted about 1 hour 10 minutes.

The trip home, uphill with lots of places to trot and canter, and heading home which meant more energy (urgency?!) and straightness, lasted about 35 minutes.

I really enjoyed being off the main road for 1/3 of the ride, the worst third -- the most windy, curvy, steep part of the road. Instead we had fields and woods and even a steep but gorgeous trail by a waterfall!

I was aware leaving home that Kacee was not fully with me and due to weather and time concerns, I kept my focus on "I decide speed and direction" and carried on. We are far enough along that this worked. Interesting to note how frequently she had these "but I think there's something scary over there" moments on the way to town, and barely a look around on the way home.

I suspect her survival instinct was close to the surface as I asked her to leave 'home', and in all honesty, she was not believing me to be 100% her trusty guide and safe companion. But it was so much better than a few years ago, even a few months ago, and it pleases me tremendously that I can ask pretty much anything of her and she'll say 'yes'. And yesterday was much softer in general between us. Although she has not been acutely and obviously sensitive to my visualizing like Rusty is, I did that quite a bit to help us along. "Here is my focus for us, can you join me now?"

And as ever, I was noticing new things about my posture, especially that unless I paid close attention when I was 'straightening' Kacee -- asking her to let go of a thought off to the right for example -- my torso was twisted to the left, bringing my right shoulder forward and my right hand over her withers. What I did to change that was lengthen my torso upwards and bring a sense of radiant presence into that left part of my torso where I was collapsing. I often wonder about the energy of my left side as that is where I have had a variety of 'degenerative disease' processes show up.

Until further notice, I will assume that a key to my health is intentionally bringing/allowing light and life energy to flow in this area of my body. Time will tell!

Visualizing

I had fun today riding Rusty. It was my second ride since last fall. I realized when I decided to ride him that it was due to how much better my shoulder is feeling. Not 100% but close enough I am unconcerned about the consequences should I indulge in some moments of spacing out while riding Rusty. We do best when I'm paying attention in the 95th percentile or better.

After ground work of breathing, walking, trotting, and halting together, both directions, I bridled him, pleased with his readiness and helpfulness in taking the bit. Mounting was another event of presence and synchronicity.

I was conscious of softness from my core connecting with Rusty's core, and we were together for most of what we did at the walk. He had some ideas pulling him toward the arena gate but let go of this thoughts pretty easily. I kept breathing and focussed on where we were going.

Then a visualization shared on a yahoo list I read came to mind and I incorporated it in the rest of our riding time. Picture one of those cone shaped things that we put on dogs who need to be prevented from chewing on a leg bandage... Picture a cone of light coming out from me and my horse, a cone whose light shines where we are going, whose light defines where we are going. Like headlights whose direction, width, distance of projection are all in my control.

Rusty amazed me with how he responded to this! He was right there with me, and admittedly, I was right there with him. Even when we halted and I opened the cone of light behind us, he knew and was ready to flow backwards.

I added my counting for transitions of walk to trot, trot to walk, walk to halt, trot to canter, canter to trot. 1234, 1234, 12, 12, 123, 123, 123, 12, 12, 12, 1234, 1234, 1, pause... 1234, etc. We were together for this. I'd been doing this with Kacee, and there has been a lag time with Kacee and I. I count and sooner or later, sometimes with the need for reins or seat and legs, we come to be moving together at the changed gait.

With Rusty, I changed my count and he change his gait.

I was brave and did this more than once. Brave because I had the fleeting thought that this was a fluke and if I ask again, it won't happen. But it did happen and perhaps because it wasn't about me asking and him doing. It was about him being so open and available that my intention was his direction.

Now I can hold this in my cells and memory and welcome it when it shows up with Kacee, with Sofia, with anyone I am fortunate to be riding.

I think I'm more blown away as I think back on our ride, than when it was happening. At that time, it simply was what was. I was ready to be living my dream, no editing interruptions.

May the flow be with you.

More practice being practical

Today I asked our Haflinger, Soli, to help out with some chores. We have had him pull a cart, even a sleigh, based on the information from his former owner that before being ridden by her for 6-7 years, he was a driving pony with years of showing under his belt.

Our tractor is in the shop, and for the most part it lives and works at our new place anyway. But here where we still live, it was time to drag the arena.

Soli and I had a job to do today! And we did it. Quite nicely, too. No gas cost, no tractor noise or emissions. Good exercise for both horse and human, and my personal effort to Live Green in the Green Mountain state.




(It looks like I'm walking right where the drag is, but I'm well off to the side of it, very cautious about safety around horses and equipment.)

Trail Ride with a Purpose

Conflicting items on my to-do list this morning, until I had a bright idea.

Ride to town to do the recycling and mail some letters.

Town is a little over three miles away, and the road from here to there is windy, paved, and likely to have a fair amount of traffic.

I figured if I attend to me-and-my-horse, and my karma is good enough, we would succeed.

And we did.

I only wish I had toted my camera so someone could have taken our picture there at the recycling center!

Before we left, I spent some time in the round pen with Kacee to see if we could progress some more with our getting together before heading out. Kacee will do most anything I ask, however I have discovered that she doesn't always feel really OK about things I ask. Time in the round pen asking her to connect with me at the walk and stop and walk and trot is enlightening. As we indeed made more progress today, I went ahead with my ambitious adventure.

Our ride was actually better on the way to town than on the way home. Perhaps she was listening to me as we headed to some unknown destination, and on the way home she was certain where we were going and eager to get there sooner than I planned.

We had a nice side trip through the property -- woods and fields -- of some folks we know, and I now have an open invite to ride through their property whenever I like. That saved about 3/4 mile of road travel, and added some lovely time along the edge of some hay fields that I never knew were there.

We surprised a turkey hen on her nest, and we caused a porcupine to climb up a tree. Many, many drivers slowed way down which I greatly appreciated.

I entertained a fantasy of offering local recycling trips each week, perhaps enlisting our driving pony and doing the trip with him!

I had about 2 1/2 hours of practicing 'speed, direction, and destination' with Kacee today. She got a hosing down and some lawn time after we got home. Then I had did my duty with the 89 bales of hay delivered this morning, carrying them one by one from the trailer and stacking them in the barn. Lovely hay -- I'd forgotten the smell of freshly baled hay! This should cover us until our hay field gets cut.

I am fatigued in a most satisfying way.

My BS meditation

Painting more garage doors yesterday, I found myself focusing on BS for the afternoon.

Me? Focusing on BS?

Yup, me focusing on BS.

Breathe. Shoulders.

Breathe. Shoulders.

Breathe. Shoulders.

I breathe whether I think about it or not. However the focus on breathing, where the breath comes in my body, the depth, the pace -- the cadence and rhythm (!) -- of my breathing are important, and something I can control and attend.

My shoulders are here as part of my body regardless of what I do. However depending on where my mind is, their position changes. With my injury still healing, the position of my shoulders is important, and is often a matter of more pain, less pain, or no pain. With a delay in the pain factor (between position and resulting sensation), I want to develop a lasting habit of keeping my structure in proper place to replace my current habit of mind slips, shoulders rise.

I don't mind writing about this type of BS.

Cadence, rhythm, and harmony

My Oxford American Dictionary says cadence (first definition) is rhythm in sound. It says rhythm (second definition) is a movement with a regular succession of strong and weak elements. It says harmony (fourth definition) is agreement.

Today during the homeward section of my ride on Kacee, we practiced cadence, rhythm, and harmony, concordance. (I like the word concordance. Maybe because it incorporates 'dance'.)

Practicing cadence, rhythm, and harmony in the saddle stems from what I have started doing during our groundwork time, gleaned from Mark Rashid's work with my Sofia recently. In groundwork, I'm practicing setting the pace, the energy level, the direction, how it feels, all that good stuff. The cadence, rhythm, and harmony.

Directing the cadence from the saddle. I like the dictionary's references to music (definitions other than already referenced) -- for cadence, rhythm, and harmony. In fact I was verbalizing our cadence for the twenty minutes it took to get home. A rhythmic song whose repeating refrain was One Two Three Four One Two Three Four. I was a bit surprised how hard it was for me to keep the rhythm when Kacee wanted to listen to the beat of her own drummer, and how hard it was Kacee to follow my determinations. I really should not be surprised -- I have been telling her for years as long as she walks when I ask her to walk on our way back to the barn, she can walk as fast as she likes.

So I'm changing the rules and I was intent on helping her find out what this new thing was that I was asking of her. She found it.

Meanwhile what a great meditative chant I had going. I had to really focus on keeping the rhythm I set! It comes so easy for me to fall into synchronization with someone else. Not useful though when it comes to riding. It's part of the gentle leadership role as I understand it. I prefer the feel of a ride on a horse who is understanding what I want and willing to let go of her thoughts, trusting me to guide us both through the environment step by step, breath by breath. We found moments of this today despite the newness I introduced.

Edges

I attended the annual Horses and Healing Conference recently (equine facilitated mental health orientation) at Horse Power in Temple, New Hampshire. Toward the end we were asked to find something that represents our heart's desire which we would use as part of a closing exercise.

I looked for a small pebble, remembering Mark Rashid's sharing what he carries in his pocket as a reminder (for 'gratitude' as I recall). I found a small piece of granite that had some smooth sides and some edges and thought this is good, it represents who I am, some smooth sides, some edges...

Then I got thinking about my heart's desire, and started looking for another pebble. I realized I wanted something that represents the smooth sides and the smoothed edges, as that is what I want to focus on, that is what I want to practice, that is what I want -- an increasingly smooth 'me' with fewer and fewer edges. Like the image I got from Mark talking about learning and refinement -- starting with a block of wood, then if you cut across all the corners to remove them, you have a block of wood with many more, but smaller edges and corners. Cut across all those corners and again you are left with more but smaller corners with less acutely angled edges. What I would call softer edges.

So I have this small pebble in my pocket and when I touch it, I think of softness and when my fingers come over the edged parts of the pebble, I feel the softness of the edges and rub some, bringing my intention for softness to the front of my consciousness while actually bringing more softness to the edges of the pebble.

Heat motivates

Sounds weird, doesn't it? To say that heat motivates. Especially this time of year where the heat and humidity confirm the onset of summer in New England.

But in fact it does motivate me. To get organized and prioritize my day according to the temperature.

Cooler in the morning, so I will go do outside activities with the horses in the morning. Warmer/warmer/hotter during the midday into the afternoon, so I will stay inside and do paperwork, rest, put up the excess asparagus and rhubarb that waits my attention.

Nothing like having rhubarb in the freezer for a freshly baked rhubarb something come the chilly days of next winter!

Perhaps living in India for three years affected how I respond to hot and humid weather. There were seasons when nothing ever dried -- not the washed clothes, not the towels, not the hair. I had a choice, yes. I could have moved. But instead I acclimated (in the true sense of the word!), continued with the multiple-showers-per-day approach to having some sense of clean and fresh, and learned to sip hot tea on a hot day, move slowly, rest in the hottest parts of the day, and enjoy the cooler times regardless of what a clock-based schedule might steer a person to do.

More locally, I recall some years back having plans to attend clinics at Piper Ridge Farm in May, July, September, October. Each of those 3-5 day clinics coincided with 90+ degree weather that year. What did I learn? When I'm focussed on doing something I enjoy (all together now: HORSES!) I don't notice the temperature.

I must mention here my cooling tools!

For years I kept a wet cotton handkerchief tied around my neck. Evaporation cools.

Last year after watching a colleague sport and rave about her cooling vest, I purchased some cooling body wear from CoolMedics.com. I did not use kerchief or Cool Medics products when I lived in India. I did have the option of finding shade and resting during the day. Teaching now where currently we have no access to sheltered arena during these warmer months, cooling tools have been essential. Before I got the Cool Medics vest, I simply poured a liter of water over my head, shirt sleeves, and pants legs, about twice an hour. I may look weird, but comfort has always been my priority.

Encouraging motor skill activity in the young riders as they use water squirters helps in the lessons, too. Adds an aspect of fun for the riders -- how often do they find a target who begs to be squirted?

Full coverage of skin by clothing is important -- I learned that in India, too, along with the drinking warm in the hot season which apparently stimulates the body to cool itself. In any case, for sun protection and moisture conservation, I wear long sleeves all the time. Add the Cool Medics vest to the long sleeves, long pants appearance and imagine the strange looks I get!

Another remembrance from India -- their air cooling systems were open-weave coconut fiber pads that covered the windows and dampened. Again, the evaporation process created the cooler air. Now that's an energy saving approach -- very little heat generated in the process of cooling the environment!

(Check their website for products to cool the horses as well as humans.)

Lost and found

I am so pleased!

Mark Rashid helped me find a soft place when bridling Sofia. Well, he mostly helped Sofia find a soft place when either of us bridled her. That is the found part -- Found Part, Part 1.

I didn't totally lose what we gained, but it sure got iffy once I got home. A few steps backward compared to bridling during the clinic. That is the Lost Part. I was able to bridle her but it wasn't getting better. Which is better than getting worse, but not as good as getting better.

Ponder, ponder, ponder.

Much more attention and effort on my part regarding me staying soft and me finding within what I can do today, how to stay connected with Sofia and soft even when she was saying 'no, I don't think so' in response to my presentation.

I got quiet. And from that quiet place came creativity to meet our needs. Of course I cannot bridle a horse like Mark does. Of course I cannot help Sofia the way Mark does. But I can draw on that still place inside from whence come all answers. I stayed still and kept finding answers that helped us get better together with the bridling thing. That is the really important found part -- Found Part, Part 2.

I am so pleased!

Remembering

My waking moments during the night were spent on two topics: 1) upcoming presentation on Treatment Planning for Our Therapy Horses and 2) what was happening with Sofia and I yesterday.

At some point I remembered something of vital importance to my progress with Sofia.

Mark Rashid told us to start with what we want. He uses a 0-10 scale to help us think along a continuum to describe the pressure and energy of what we do. So if we want to be backing a horse with a 0.5-1.0, then that is what we use to request a back up. If the horse doesn't back with that, we do not increase what we are using, but instead bring additional energy some other way.

Yesterday my focus was so much on remaining calm inside myself even if I had to use bigger movements at times to direct a horse, I forgot about the 'start with what you want' message. I was successful with remaining calm, focussed, breathing yesterday but ended the day feeling like I was missing something. I was.

So this morning after feeding hay, I haltered up two of the horses I worked with yesterday and experimented to see if I could get a nice flowing back up without increasing the pressure I was using. I could. I'm very grateful for this. Instead of increasing pressure to get movement, I kept in mind the softness I want, sent that thought out through my hand on the lead rope, and added energy through change of posture and moving my outside hand. All the time I was feeling for the change in thought in the horse, feeling for that opening when they shifted from 'I'm standing here regardless' to 'ah, moving back with you is easy, here we go'.

I'm off teaching today so that is it for my hands on with our horses here at home. I will make a quick walk around the pasture perimeter fencing to see if any posts need replacing. Soon I want to start turning some horses out on grass. I look forward to seeing how the fields respond to the predicted rainfall this weekend. Not "showers", but actual rainfall!