May 11, 2010

Push Back the Walls

It is springtime and I am in a happy mood.  We had record-setting snowfall this winter, which made lots of people pretty cranky.  For me, winter was mostly amusing, because it came in with a fury and made it known it was here to stay, so I accepted it.  I actually was thankful it didn’t give us little peeks of spring only to dash our hopes against the dreaded frozen snowbank of despair.  I didn’t try to ride horses in 4-foot snowbanks with sharp winds biting our faces.  I gave in to the howling winds and undulating expanse of white in my outdoor riding arena from January to about mid-March by feeding extra hay and giving lots of kisses and cookies to plenty-warm muzzles.  I set to humming a happy tune while cleaning the closets in my house and dusting ceiling fans.  I went into total acceptance of the reality of what this winter was, and it made it a really lovely time for me.

But we all love spring when it comes (and spring with the spring cleaning done is a knockout combination.)  The flowers and seeds are planted, the birds are back and the air smells pungent and fresh.  The horses are out at grass when not working their one hour or so per day and their coats are getting slick as the last bastion of dead winter hair releases its grip.

And now I have to learn to ride again.  This is the only part of this spring that is seriously harshing my buzz.  We’ve all had those moments where we realize that what used to be easy for us is now daunting.  Whether that is riding outside of an arena, cantering or whatever your used-to-be-comfort zone encompassed, we all have experienced the moment when we realize our world of possibility has shrunk.  At that moment we have a choice: either live in the shrinking world, or push back the walls.

Last fall I was galloping and jumping somewhere around 3’6” and flirting occasionally with 4’.  And it was easy.  It was thrilling.  It was a gift from the Universe that I thoroughly enjoyed and was grateful for.  This spring feels like starting all over again, and it doesn’t help that I have a really Fascinating Pony (FP) in for jumping training.  We are up to 2 feet which looks giant to me right now from the vantage point of 12 hands.

Each day when I feed, I walk by my jumps, which had been set at 1’-2’ for FP training.  Over time that height had started to look normal to me.  The me of last fall would not have considered them even warm up fences.  One of my horses literally shies at fences set that low.  (This I found out right after informing an international  clinician, who had asked about my and my horse’s experience, that 4’ hunters were in our past.  I trotted away at his direction and had an inglorious stop and near unplanned dismount at a 1’ vertical.  Spectacular.)  But after this winter of not riding and the early spring of cavaletti and 1’ grids, 2’ was looking big to me.  The walls of possibility had slowly pushed near enough to me that I had to keep my elbows in to turn around.  So I made a plan to push back.

I started by changing the default setting on the jumps to 3’.  This required a lot of extra work because every time before I worked FP, I had to lower the jumps and afterwards, I had to raise them.  But something about walking past those jumps set at 3’, which looked a little big to me at first, stirred a memory from last summer of walking championship level eventing courses and at first saying “Oy chee mamma, that’s big.” And then walking them again  and maybe again, and finding them acceptable on further consideration.   The easiest part comes next: simply putting those jumps between the gunsights of my wonderful horse’s ears, and thoroughly enjoying being lifted effortlessly over, flying and grinning.

After a few days the 3’ fences in my arena were not big to me anymore and I jumped the made horses over them while they yawned and my heart raced.  It occurred to me when I untacked their unimpressed selves that humans think entirely too much.

So tonight when I feed I will set the jumps to 3’6” and look at them a day or two, get my mind around the height and then canter on down to them and jump them.  It won’t be easy at first, but easy will migrate home to roost like the predictable bird it is.  I will be back and I will feel better, and who knows, maybe I will crank them up more and look at them with feed buckets in my arms, and feel future easy flight.

This process of pushing back the walls is like wading into a cool spring-fed lake.  We walk out and the water gets deeper and colder and we wonder if we should continue or just go back to the warmth of the sandy beach.  When we choose to take the plunge and glide, swimming along in the balmy top few feet of the water, we remember that the acclimation process we had to go through to get there was simply the appropriate price of admission for the ride.

March 26, 2010

Barn Etiquette

I run a training barn, so have had horses boarded at my place for a long while.  However, usually I am the one doing most of the riding.  The horses’ owners show up to visit, observe or take a lesson, but mostly, it is just me and the horses.  One of the horses I trained is recently being leased by a person who will be coming out and riding the horse at my place.  She asked me if I could provide a list of barn rules.

Barn rules?  Hmmmm…  Now that’s a good question.  I’ve always disliked barn rules that started with “No” and “Do not.”  They flash me back to the dour church of my youth that emphasized the “Thou shalt not” commandments and glossed blithely over the “You-shall-love-your-neighbor-as-yourself.-There-is-no-commandment-greater-than-this” passages.

I’m just sayin’ that there are two ways to look at communicating rules.  One is to tell the listener what not to do–a written game of “Hot and Cold” with an emphasis on the ‘Cold’– or the rule-giver can provide general guidelines to tell the audience how to decide what to do.  When the rules audience is allowed to take ownership in deciding what to do, it eliminates the need for the myriad “Do nots.”  It also encourages the audience to think about the positive results of their actions, rather than trying to avoid the negative result that is associated with breaking the rules.  Ahhhh.  The joy of clear direction and trust.

In the movie Seven Pounds, there is a scene where Will Smith’s character is watching a hockey practice where a fight breaks out.  The coach whistles loudly to get the players’ attention.  Then he asks the boys where they are.  “This is church sir!”  they yell in unison.  The fighting ceases and they are back to practice.  Where many coaches would have punished the two boys for fighting, thus showing them clearly what they ought not to do, this coach simply reminded them of how they should decide what to do–in this case to use the same set of behavioural rules that they would in church.  He reminded them of the general philosophy of how they should be, rather than punishing them for being what they shouldn’t.  Genius.

So I thought seriously about applying this philosophy to barn etiquette and came up with this to post on the barn door:

Field Day Barn Etiquette

You are entering a sanctuary.

Directive One: Treat all animals, people and equipment with love and respect at all times.

Treat the lawn as if it was the churchyard. If possible avoid taking horses across the lawn when it is wet. If you must cross it when it is wet, go along the west fenceline where the ground is a little higher and dries out more quickly.

Bring cookies.

If possible, leave things a little nicer than when you arrived.

Pitch in where you can.

Praise often.

Change the radio station if you like. Be comfortable.

You can ride on our land. Let us show you where our neighbors have said it is ok to ride on theirs.

Enjoy your horse fully and love on the other ones if you like.

If you borrow something, return it promptly in clean, working order.

If you borrow supplies, replace them promptly with somewhat more than you borrowed.

If you mess up, fess up, quickly and fully. It probably can be fixed if caught early.

If you need help, ask.

If you can give help when asked, do.

When alone and in doubt, ask your Higher Self.

If the gate was closed before you went through it, close it behind you

Communicate quietly and privately if you have a critique or request.

Communicate as enthusiastically and publicly as seems appropriate to you if you have praise.

Greet people.

Smile.

Exhale.

All rules are subservient to Directive One.
Camie


March 23, 2010

What would Biko do?


More than a decade ago my husband and I went to the Rolex Kentucky Three Day Event as spectators. We walked through the fabulous vendor fair, bought too much, enjoyed wildly overpriced food, greeted old friends and marveled at the cross country course.

On that beautiful spring morning in April we found ourselves in a crowd behind the spectator ropes right behind the entrance at A, watching Karen O’Connor enter at A on the unforgettable Biko. As we watched mesmerized, up drove a golf cart with a young driver and not-so-young passenger.  They pushed through the crowd with the cart until they were right up front. We could all see over the cart, so it was no problem to anyone.  It became apparent that the older woman was the owner as she commented on the test, “Oh dear, a little tight there, wasn’t our boy?” “Oooh, good man, Biko, cookies tonight.” “Wasn’t that lovely. Good man.”

It was charming and it reminded us that even Rolex horses are simply somebody’s love. Her endearing comments made all the fabulous horses we saw that weekend more real and accessible. And in some strange way, it raised my own horses to a more Rolex-like status. After all, the Rolex horses were just somebody’s horse. And my horse was somebody’s horse.

So I went home and unpacked and on that Monday I asked myself what Biko and Karen were doing that day. Obviously, good Biko had the day off after his work at Rolex, but imagining that there was someone who cleaned his stall that morning, and would walk him this afternoon for a stretch, reminded me that the daily work of riding, cleaning stalls and loving attention is what makes a horse and rider great. No rider is alone any day as long as she remembers that thousands of people are out riding, making small changes, doing the deal to make small improvements in themselves and their horses everyday. You need only to find one small thing to improve in your riding every day to make a huge cumulative improvement.

“Success is neither magical nor mysterious. Success is the natural consequence of consistently applying the basic fundamentals.” -Jim Rohn