Two Breakthroughs And the Two Wolves

I had two major breakthroughs today. One was regarding Tweed and the teeter totter bridge, and the other was regarding mine and my daughter's journey, and how it fits into the bigger picture of resiliency and finding meaning in suffering.

First, Tumbleweed.

I asked Regina if it was alright to do a groundwork lesson today with Tweed, and use the obstacle course, since the park will be closing soon. You may remember that we had issues with the seesaw, or teeter-totter bridge last year, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to reintroduce it to him again. He trusted me to go over the bridge last year, but when he saw it fall, he jumped off, and then he developed an instant distrust of all bridges and, I think, a distrust of me for having made a bad choice.

Honestly, I didn't see how I could ever get him over the bridge again.

Regina thought it was a good idea and set about helping me. She asked me to walk him to the ladder obstacle, which he can do with his eyes closed. But instead of walking through it, she wanted me to ask him to place his two front feet in a box.

It was very easy for him to do it, but he wasn't doing it right.  His head was on the ground.

Regina walked over and drew a box in the air in front of his shoulders. She said, he needs to keep his head in this box and pointing forward, with an ear on you. If his head goes to the side, down, or up--anywhere out of the box, bring him back to center.

Okay, got it. 

Then she asked me to try his back feet, but when it came to the back feet, he rushed out of the box. Regina told me to back him up (out of the box), then bring him around again. She wanted me to ask, and expect, one half step at a time--then stop him with a "whoa"--and then another half step. (Always remembering, however, to keep his head in the imaginary box, and one ear on me.)

After a few times, and lots of wanting to look at other horses, or eat grass on the ground, or fill in the blank (be distracted), then bringing his head back to the engaged / thinking position, he gave me his two back feet. Good job, Tweed!

That wasn't as easy as I thought it would be!

This is where the photos end. We went to the stationary bridge and worked this same way over it. Half steps, head center, at the shoulder, ear on me. (This might seem nitpicky, but it was incredibly effective.)

Our next stop was the seesaw bridge. Of course, Tweed was a major no at first. He'd put a hoof onto it, then take it right off. However, with persistence, and keeping his head in the front frame of attention, he soon had his two front feet on it and he was relaxed.

Regina wanted to reward him and break it up, so she had me take him through the carwash obstacle and do the same thing there. Tweed went through, but ran out a few times, with me bringing his head around and doing it again. 

Regina had an aha moment. She asked that I not bring him around, but walk with him, or let him go straight out of the carwash, and then bring him to a halt facing the same, straight direction. Again, this doesn't seem like a big thing, (and at the time, I didn't know why she had me do it) but it made an instant difference, and Tweed began walking half step by half step through the carwash, standing in it with the arms blowing all over him, and then taking half step by half step out, then halting. (She was onto something).

Back to the seesaw bridge, and we were soon up and over it. As soon as he came onto the bridge with his back legs, Regina told me to keep on walking, but keep him straight. He flew off the bridge when it fell down with a huge bang, but I held and kept him straight. Yay, Tweed! She told me to make a big deal over him. He had faced one of his biggest fears!

The something Regina realized is that he is insecure really engaging his hind quarters to 1) come off the bridge, 2) go down hills. It's also what we're constantly working on with vertical flexion. They're all connected.

It has been affecting trail rides and walk, trot, lope transitions. It is affecting a lot of obstacle work. In other words, it's a big freaking deal.

Regina found a hill along a path that she wanted me to lunge Tweed on. The ground was uneven, the descent was steep, but all he had to do was walk down it, then go up the other side. Of course, the same rules still applied about where his head should be--the imaginary box. If his head went down towards the grass--which it did, as he tried to grab a bite and almost went tumbling down the hillside--or if it went to the side to yank himself away and avoid the work, take a side kick out at me in defiance, or look at other horses and people--I was to bring it back.

At first, Tweed was a hot mess. He was using his front quarters to navigate the descent, and he was trotting down it, rather than engaging his hind quarters and walking. As I said, he took a side kick out at me, tried to eat grass and almost went tumbling, and was a real baby. But, with a little work, he was soon sitting back on his haunches and walking down the hill like a mature trail horse. We did it both directions, then went back to the teeter totter bridge.

Back at the teeter totter bridge we ended on a positive note. As we walked back to the trailer, we went over the solid bridge again--but kept him straight as he walked off in half steps. The rest of the way back to the trailer, he looked like a different horse. Regina was behind us and she said, Look at you, Tweed! Wow!

I looked at him to see what she was talking about, and his movement, was just beautiful. He was cat-like. His head was relaxed. It was the beauty of balance. His whole body was engaged. There was an energy, but no anxiety.

That is what I called a GREAT lesson.

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Regarding resilience, and my breakthrough today. There are a list of things that make a person resilient and, hopefully, we learn these tools along our journey. Developing them helps us prepare for the inevitable challenges and suffering. This list is: Developing our Core Values, Finding Meaning in Adversity, Equanimity, Self Care, Healthy Coping Skills, Support and Connection with Others, and a Pro-active world view. 

We all have what is called a hero's journey. The hero's journey, ironically, takes us not to pride, but to selflessness.

The photo above illustrates it. 

Well, I was contemplating my own "hero's journey," and at the end of it, I realized that my hero's journey has been scary, awful, beautiful, at times weak, then strong, sometimes messy and unexpected--definitely imperfect--yet it has perfectly equipped me for this moment in life. 

It gave me the necessary tools to help my own daughter (and grandson) find love, forgiveness, faith in themselves, hope, joy--not that we're there yet--or that I can do it for them--but I can help.

The course I'm listening to on audible that has this information is called, Building Your Resilience: Finding Meaning in Adversity.

At the end of the first chapter, she shared this story.

My job is simply to help them feed the good wolves for as long as I'm able.