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.