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.