Winter Connections

 

We had a busy Thanksgiving with lots of family time and activities. I was only able to do the daily chores and some petting on the horses. 

After reading Sacred Spaces, I see how even these short interactions, though, make good practice for exploring energy and intention. 

As I walk to the barn, if any of the horses look my way, I speak their name and reward them. I went out at dark one night and heard a nicker and saw the silhouette of what I thought was Beautiful Girl. I walked into the turnout and found her, then petted on her for a while enjoying the moment of “communion.”

I’ve had similar moments of communion with all of them, at different times, but in the same way, and it is very rewarding. They seek out this type of connection.

And, it is a reminder that our fairytale lives with horses don’t have to include riding them, and often doesn’t. 

But if we do progress to riding, it can only help us have better feel by being in constant practice connecting with them and rewarding their interest in being connected.

Winter is a great time to practice and explore just how deeply we can strengthen our bonds. 

I had a very strong bond with my former horse Cowboy, but it was mostly formed when he broke his P3 and had to be confined to a 12x12 stall for six months. My farrier said, “I can fix his foot, but you have to fix this.” He touched Cowboy’s head. He told me Cowboy would go crazy being confined that long unless I could spend a lot of time with him and keep him calm and content.

I did, and it was that six months that connected our hearts deeper than I knew was possible. 

I’d like to recreate that with Tumbleweed, but without the life-threatening injury. And I’d like to deepen it with my non-ridden horses, too. They have a lot to give.

How about you? How are you bonding with your herd this late fall / early winter?

Embracing The Fire & a Winner

“Such are the horses on which gods and heroes ride, ..to bring out the best qualities—their spirit, fire, grace, and bearing.” Xenophon, On Horses, 400BC

Yesterday was blustery because we are expecting a weather change. Winter is coming. 

I decided to only work with Tumbleweed on energy and intention from the ground, but I wanted to see if we could recreate the other day when he went wild, and then practice bringing our energy together at liberty. 

Sure enough, the docile kitten was gone and, in its place, a wild, majestic stallion. (At least, he thinks he is.)

Eventually, he figured I was the only friend he had in the arena, and he came back to me. 

We walked over poles, side-by-side, then spent a little time cooling off at a walk. 

I tried to summon him to me with only my thoughts and body movements, and it did work to get him to come into the round pen once and the onto the bridge with me twice. He mostly cued into the movement of my body walking away from him, then followed.

No great miracles of telepathy were performed, but we did have fun, and I think he is getting the idea that I want him to tune into me on a deeper level. 

And, I am growing in my awareness of him, especially what it means to not only be a ‘docile kitten,’ but also a majestic, strong, and proud soul with fire inside. 

There’s something to be said for embracing that fire. 

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Book Giveaway Update

I drew names this morning, and the winner of the Sacred Spaces book giveaway is….Aurora who shares with us on her blog Equine Expressions  . Her blog is full of beautiful photography and her personal journey with horses, the newest addition being “Hope.” 

I hope you find this book an inspiring addition to that journey.

Our Fairytale Stories

Tomorrow is the day I will draw names for the book Sacred Spaces, and to enter, just leave a comment on this post or the original one. 

Today, though, I want to talk briefly again about our stories. Since we are bloggers, we are constantly telling them in a day to day style, but the book, Sacred Spaces, asks the reader to create a bigger story about ourselves and our horse, a fairytale version of what our story could be. 

But as I was writing mine, it morphed into a fairytale story of Tumbleweed and Foxy. 

From the moment she became his surrogate mama, and he needed one then, it developed into this huge love story between them that pushed me out. (The photos above were taken 7 years ago today.)

Unlike Cowboy, who was an orphan foal omega who didn’t need the herd, but needed me, Tumbleweed was popular in the herd and loved his Foxy. In fact, they all love Foxy, and she is a horse to study and emulate (a theme in another section of the book.)

So, the question arose in my mind, How do I write this story with a horse who doesn’t seem to need me? 

I don’t know the answer yet, but I got a glimpse of what it might look like this week if I connect with him on that deeper, spiritual level he, and I assume all horses, desire. 

But, the fact is, this story will probably be more about how much I need him, not vice versa. 

I need this journey with Tumbleweed right now. I need a new story. I need everything it will take to fulfill the story. 

Im writing it now, in my head, then I’ll put it down on paper. 

How about you? What is your story with the horse you have today? What is the fairytale you are writing?

Competition for Attention

 

Tuesday, as I went out to work with Tweed, my mind was full of all the ideas I’d read in Sacred Spaces and True Horsemanship Through Feel. I wanted to 1) learn to communicate with the horse I had that day, and 2) begin to visualize what I want before asking for it. I would like to see if I can train him to listen to my smallest intention, and shift of energy towards that intention.

It’s hard.

It’s hard because I usually go straight to the aid, and he has learned to tune out my energy and intention. I’ve trained him to ignore it. 

As I walked Tweed, he felt like he had some pent up energy, so I released him in the arena to “run it off.” (Mistake 1) He didn’t run, but instead tried to snatch grass from outside the arena. I remembered I’d forgotten some of the tack, and left him in there, alone, to go retrieve it  

When I got behind the shed, and he couldn’t see me, I heard a ruckus. He was ripping around and whinnying for a buddy. 

By the time I got back, he had totally switched into flight mode. 

Lesson 1: Tumbleweed needs connection to calm him,  not freedom.

I had planned to ride bareback that day, but the plans changed. I decided to instead work on the horse, and situation, before me, which would require that I safely catch and halter him, then bring his energy, and his mind, back to me. 

It took a few minutes to safely get him back under halter, but his energy was still way up. 

We did some basic flag work first, because I didn’t want to be standing too close to him when his energy was that high. 

When he calmed down enough, we did the head releases. 

The rest of our time together was working on the line, and asking for gait changes, but using an image of that change, and the energy from that image, before using any other ask, like the cluck, kiss, or (last resort) flag. 

Not surprisingly, Tweed, at first, ignored my intention, and he had big, emotional gait changes. He resisted tuning into me because he wanted to keep his attention outside the arena or on the herd.  

It hit me that the hardest thing we ask our horses to do isn’t physical, it’s mental. Their survival depends on their attention to their environment. Scary things. The herd. We’re asking them to let all that go and give us that precious attention. 

Even harder, however, is asking them to tune in on an even deeper level to our energy and intention. 

Our aids are big, hard to tune out (though they can). It gives them the opportunity to multi-task. I’ll think about scary things until I feel you physically cue me otherwise.  

Tuning into our energy and intention requires almost all their attention. 

As we worked on the line, and he figured out the new rules, he began looking to me more for my intention. I rewarded him big when he was successful. (New rules) His transitions became very relaxed. No more drama. 

Subtlety isn’t my strength, and neither is visualizing what I want before I ask. After Tuesday’s work, however,  I know Tweed is trainable to energy and intention, if I take the time to do it, then reward him. 

Working at home is challenging. It was much easier to get with him away from home. I have a few ideas to help with that, but I’ll write more about them later. 

I want to end this post with Amy Skinner Horsemanship on Facebook. One of her posts popped up this morning, and it was exactly what we’ve been talking about on this blog for the last month. I gave her page a follow and read some of her other posts. She talks about our fears, emotions, and baggage, and how they inform our life with horses. It was some really poignant writing, and I highly recommend it. 

Also, don’t forget the book giveaway. Leave a comment to be entered into the drawing. I think you will find things to love about the book Sacred Spaces. 

Update: Today, Tweed was completely tuned in and matching my energy. He didn’t even need a warm up. I didn’t think we’d get to riding bareback, but he was so gentle and willing, it seemed obvious to jump on. He was perfect, and we practiced tuning into the slightest intention, then rewarding. 

He did so well, I decided to try his trot at bareback, and it was also glorious. 

It proves, yet again, how drastically our horses can change from one day to the next. 

Sacred Spaces Giveaway

This was the view out my window yesterday, Epona and Tumbleweed sleeping together. It epitomizes the idea of “Sacred Spaces.” 

It’s that feeling you have when you’re so comfortable with someone else, you have full trust, and all the barriers come down. Your energy meets theirs. Your communication is silent, but stronger than words.

Now that Tumbleweed’s shoes are off and we’re staying home, my focus has shifted to relationship work. What can I do to develop his trust? 

A friend posted the wisdom above, and I liked it and remarked that it sounded like what I’m reading about feel in True Horsemanship. Another friend contacted me and told me that Dr Susan Fay (the quote above) wrote a book called Sacred Spaces, and she really enjoyed it.

I ordered it on the spot, it arrived the next day, and I finished it a few days ago.

This is a book about the rider, not about training. It is about what we bring to the relationship in terms of our energy, intention, stories, labels, focus, and expectations. She said she wrote it to help the horse by helping the human.

And she certainly got me thinking about my own stories, energy, intentions, and labels, especially since that was the last great epiphany of my trail riding season. It was that moment when I said, the problem is me. I need to fix me.

Everything shifted at that moment and I realized I’d focused too much on mechanics (which I’m not good at and probably never will be) and not enough on the feel and the communication and support that comes from it.

A horse will do almost anything for you if you get those pieces right.

Unlike True Horsemanship, this book is available to purchase, and I would like to make it my giveaway today. I can’t send you mine, because mine is now as marked up as a personal journal, but I will send you your own new copy.

For this giveaway, I only ask that you comment with a story or label you told yourself that got in the way of your horse journey. I will draw a name a week from today for the winner of the book.

Personally, I can think of all kinds of stories and labels that got in my way. Most recently, the one about Tumbleweed and hill work. I was so focused on what was going wrong, I failed to see how it would look going right. That movie in my head was creating changes in me, and him, that sabotaged our progress. 

Seeing Katie ride Tumbleweed showed me a different movie, and a better way that focused on feel for Tumbleweed as a completely unique soul. (Dr. Fay brings up that scenario in the book—sometimes we need to see another rider on our horse.) The new movie influenced me in such a drastic way that our next ride was the glorious one I previously wrote about. 

So, how about you? What expectations, labels for your horse, or stories from the past, projected to the future, didn’t serve you and your horse?