A Lesson from Maya, while Maya Lessons

“I want the biggest horse,” nine-year old Maya declared as she walked up the mounting ramp.

“This is Shiloh, one of the biggest we are using today,” Susan, the group coordinator replied, as I walked Shiloh by the mounting block/ramp to let Maya climb on.

Maya smiled, shyly pet the Shiloh’s withers, then froze.

“She is too big,” she complained.

“No, she’s perfect,” Susan replied.  “She is super sweet.  Just put your foot in the stirrup, and I will help you over.”

Maya refused, too scared to move.  Susan mounted Shiloh herself, to show Maya how her how Shiloh would simply stand in place until I led her away.

“No, I’m not getting on,” Maya stubbornly explained.

“Why don’t you walk with her, then maybe decide,” Susan reasoned.  There were several other girl scouts to get onto horses, so we could begin our riding.

“OK,” Maya answered as she walked back down the ramp, while I moved Shiloh away from the mounting block.

This occurred last weekend while I was leading horses at Equestrian Connection with kids without special needs there—since EC was hosting a girl scout troop—and it was quite different from what I usually did.

In the middle of the arena, I showed Maya how to hold  the lead rope.   We walked a little bit around the arena,  then we stopped and I had her pet Shiloh’s soft black neck.

Susan walked over to us once the other girls were mounted, and we showed Maya how Shiloh liked to nuzzle her palm. Once Maya pet her soft nose, she sighed and agreed to get on Shiloh again.

We walked back to the mounting block, and with only a slight hesitation Maya climbed onto Shiloh’s back.  We walked slowly around the arena, me holding onto the lead rope  and Megan and Kelsey side walking on either side of Shiloh.  Maya was

We were amazed as this tiny girl’s transformation.  Maya had never been on a horse.  Maya initially refused to mount Shiloh.  Maya changed from physically tense to enjoying the exercises and games with the groups.

While standing, Maya closed her eyes and placed her hands on her head.  While walking, Maya stood up and hit the hanging balls, first with the left hand than the right.  She finally held onto the reins, helping to steer Shiloh over the obstacle course.  She played the hanging baseball game, throwing stuffed animals into the open holes, and played red light-green-light, directing us when to stop-go-and even stand-up on Shiloh’s back.

Thanks Maya, for reminding me that we can reach beyond the limitations we set upon ourselves.  We can stretch our bodies, our minds, and enjoy.  It will be worth it.  C

A Horse is a Horse is a Teacher of Course

A thought-provoking question was posted on the social networking site LinkedIn, for one of my member groups that reaches horse lovers in the business world.  A member asked what skill or trait has been improved on through interaction with horses. That gave me pause. Leading, touching, tacking, riding, watching, loving, jumping, healing, cleaning, listening to horses has taught me so much over the past twenty years that I have been riding.

I have learned to be aware of my surroundings, as even docile horses can be unpredictable, spook at air.  I am more humble; as my trainer Jeannine says “you can be a hero one day, a zero the next” as one excellent round on a course can have you eating dirt the next day.  I know–I have several now-healed broken bones to prove it.

I have experienced the exhilaration of jumping (for me) a perfect line of jumps or an entire course.  And after a hard ride or unexpected fall, sometimes I am ecstatic with simply galloping.  Patience, patience getting the muscles and confidence back.

I have learned that there is always something new to learn, to test, to practice, to challenge.  I have learned that these magnificent animals take a lot of time, of heart, of money to care for.  I have learned that equines have varying temperaments, personalities, physical beauty, abilities, riding styles–and we don’t all like the same horses–just as we don’t all like the same people. Yet they capture our souls.

I have learned that cross training really does help.  I have written before that yoga has improved my riding, my confidence, my center, dramatically.

One of the most valuable things that horses have taught me personally is to live in the moment.  Trying to squeeze 90-120 minutes into several days a week with work, family, errands, and other obligations can be a challenge.  I used to sometimes rush through the motions of tacking up, a quick ride with scattered thoughts, finish, leave. Not satisfying for me or the horse, I came to realize, still stressed after riding.

I slowly learned to live in the moment, to savor all my time at the barn.  Grooming gives me time to check out the entire animal, then make sure my tack is on properly, then warm up and ride, cool down, post-ride grooming, and carefully cleaning the tack.

I try to leave my stress on the street. Focusing on the task in front of me is far more enjoyable than a whirlwind of each motion, it is safer being aware of my animal and others around me, and I think that  the horse is simply calmer without nervous, hurried energy.  I have tried to carry this into other parts of my life, focusing on what is in front of me, and I think it is more satisfying, fulfilling.

My riding friends, I wonder what you have learned from horses. and what we will learn tomorrow. C

The Stretch

Doing unsupported headstands in my 40′s?  Backbends? Trying again and again  unsuccessfully to do a handstand with no wall support (another day).

Riding horses, what to work on today stuck in an indoor arena all winter? Practice something different each ride–curves and straight movements, lateral maneuvers, tempo of the ride.

Trying to challenge the limitations we put on our capabilities can be daunting, but each stretch brings a reward of the mental, the physical.  Sometimes we move too fast, too dangerous, and we back up slowly, start anew,  but  slowly move back to starting position, then ahead–testing, convincing, reminding us that life is a journey yet completed.

It is what keeps us young, life vibrant, talk and actions interesting.  And as we move from working within our spirits to the larger community outside, our souls soar.  Try something new today.  Tomorrow.  C

No Carrots for Sophie

Transitioning from outdoor to indoor riding is never easy (or the other way around).  We have been completely spoiled, riding outside until mid-November this year.  Sophie has been a gem outside, despite rumbling garbage trucks and migrating geese and chasing dogs and playing foals.

Sophie grazing

Today the weather is distinctively cooler, murkier, so we flatted inside.  She started off great, with many transitions, maneuvers over poles, changing directions, despite the coolness.  Her friend Louie threw a shoe.  The we stopped in the middle of the arena to talk to Sue, one of the trainers.  Both Louie and Sophie were alert to the flickering lights, the people calling from the outside of the door.

we were set to finish our ride as everyone left the viewing area.  She had a great pace, more impulsion than I have seen, and I was enjoying our ride.

SCRRAAPPPEEE! I heard the chair outside the door moved just slightly, with a loud creak.  We were at the far end of the arena, and that was just the impetus that Sophie needed to gallop off the line, bucking, bucking bucking.

“OH…my….God!” I thought I screamed as I tried valiantly but fruitlessly to stay on, reins pulled loose.  I saw the first jump of the gymnastic approaching, as I slid off her back, rolling to see her legs dance above me and away.

I got to my feet as Sophie walked calmly away, “Hey girl,” I called as I picked up her reins.

“Can you close the door?” Danielle called, thikng I was leaving the arena.

“Oh, I’m not leaving,” I replied.  ”She just threw me.”

“What?” “What?” was the reply from several people. No one had heard me fall, or call out, so maybe I just thought it as I tumbled.

Sue walked in the arena. “Do you want Katie [her daughter] to get on?” she asked me at the mounting block.

“Oh no.  I can do this,” I said.

“OK,” she replied.

We moved off at a walk, then a trot several times around the arena.  A cat was stalking a hidden mouse, and Sophie didn’t bat an eye.  We trotted around the evil corner, her acting like the angel as people watched.

A blip in my day.  She is frisky once a year, and I happened to be on her back. Ah well, better ride next week.

No carrots for Sophie today! C

A Lexington Visit

The World Equestrian Games (WEG) wrapped up today in Lexington, KY.  This is the first time this event (held every four years) has been in the US, it showed an incredible breadth of equestrian sports. Colette and I drove to the event with tickets in hand for two show jumping events, but we saw a wide range of horses, people, events, and lecturers.

We watched Icelandic ponies, their fast gait unlike any I have seen.  Beautiful creatures, impressive riders.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The California Cowgirls drill team was completely opposite from the Icelandic riders, with their American flags and Western outfits. The audience enjoyed the show almost as much as the performers, I think.

drill team

At the Clinician’s corral we heard John Lyons and Linda and Pat Parelli speak and demonstrate their riding and training techniques. Both interesting and educational, once you took a step back from the marketing.

The highlight was the two days of international, world-class show jumping.  Riders from 18 to 57 competing, we saw a portion of the speed competition and one day of the team jumping.  It is stunning to see how beautiful their form, how high the jumps, how technical the course.  Even these Olympic winners had refusals and knocked fences and walls, but we fortunately saw no injuries to horse or rider.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Check out this wall! We saw it come down two times.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A glorious two days,  the Kentucky Horse Park welcomed, educated, inspired, challenged us, and made us wish our visit was longer.  Horse lovers from around the world, waving flags, eating, drinking, shopping–I think all were made very welcome by the people of Lexington. C

Busy, Busy, Busy

Being buried alive, that’s my week.  Covered not by physical Earth but by the dirt spewed by others, volunteer work unfinished by others that I must handle, my completion of yet another volunteer job and the wrap up needed, unexpected work projects, organizing weekend plans for a myriad of  people, laundry, cooking, driving, technical computer glitches, more unanticipated work questions so that to-do list grows, dogs need exercise, homework, grocery store. Is it snowing again?

The outlets?  Surprise call from an old friend, funny posts on Facebook, and –my favorite, as always–an exhilarating walk-trot-canter on Sophie.  As Sophie and I work, tension slips from my shoulders, my brain empties of all who need me (if just for a brief while), no one pressuring, asking, wanting, waiting, needing, needling, calling.  Or if they are, I am immune.  So when complete, I can start refreshed and as the phone rings, the emails alert, the mailman delivers I remember that brief respite of mine.  And count the days until I can fit it on my calendar (so sad) to escape again. C

Unforgiving Surfaces

My horse was careening out of control, galloping down the long side of the arena, and I could NOT figure out how to take my hands off his neck to stop him.  Normally responsive and docile, this was a surprise takeoff, probably brought on by MY reaction to the pony galloping in the pasture and the puppies chasing each other, and the other horses enjoying a spring morn.

As we turned in a circle, I removed my foot from one stirrup and dismounted into the dirt, avoiding flailing hooves and landing on my knees in the dirt.  Bodily not hurt,  my brain angry and frustrated and upset, the tears came.

But which was harder, the sandy red surface or my ego?  After a long chat, I eventually remounted the horse, walked, then trotted slowly around the arena with nary an issue.  Why do we do it?  Why can’t we stop?  Do we have horse blood in our souls?  Or just a portion of their souls in our hearts?

The ego wins, as I will return tomorrow for another ride.  Hopefully under my control, not his.  C

Small Steps, Huge Smiles

R. is an always-smiling 5-year old with beautiful light brown eyes, who cannot speak or walk or grasp things too tightly. R. is one of the children I volunteer with at Equestrian Connection, a marvelous place where we work with physically and/or mentally challenged people on horses, therapy called hippotherapy.

When R. wants his horse to walk forward, he smiles and grunts to the person leading the horse, and she, the therapist and I (the sidewalker) move forward.  Occasionally, he can grasp the reins, though he is easily distracted and drops them from his gnarled hands.   Today, after many weeks of working together, was the first time ever that the therapist and I removed our hands from his legs and the saddle, how we usually help prop him up. 

The look of joy on 5-year old R’s face was priceless, as he became an independent rider! He walked once around the arena mainly unaided–though our hands were only inches away, should he slip.  I have written this before, but I cannot comprehend the feeling of freedom and exhilaration he must have felt, for one who cannot use his legs to run and jump and climb.

Feeling tired after 2 hours of working with children, R.’s huge success was all I needed to see to know that my time there was worth every step around that arena.  C

Focus, Focus

It is unfathonable to me that when I flat my horse outside on a lovely summer afternoon I am usually surrounded by calm, but when I head out for a jumping lesson I seem to perfectly time it to when there are the more distractions than I can imagine.  The other day I needed an alien ship to land, to max out on possible diversions. 

As one counts petals for love, let me count the distractions: 1–not one but 3 adorable foals running free with their mamas in the paddocks on one side of me, chasing each other up and down the fencelines; 2–4 horses in their own pens whinnying, rolling in the sand; 3– Juan mowing the lawn surrounding the outdoor arena and emptying the grass bag into the railer right beside a jump; 4–how many semis can drive up the road?; 5–a trailer pulling up the driveway and unloading an uncooperative horse; 6–a cat or squirrel running through the abandonded standards and jumps in the woods, causing pieces to inadvertantly slide about.  Seven would be the mental somersaults spinning in my brain, as I tried to ignore everything around and focus on my ride and my instructor Sue.

Felix laughing, 2006

I was once again riding Felix, my favorite mount.  As we rode by each distraction the first-second-third time, I realized that the mental sprites that plagued me during the previous summers were today invisible. After our accident last year, it was at least 9 months until I rode Felix again, though I rode many others in between.  Now I realize why my instructors did that. Even though we have a great rapport, the cautions I was unknowingly transmitting to him were resulting in problem reactions. Now that the negative vibes are gone, I am calmer; he is more relaxed. We are now a stronger team than we were before.

Once we assessed and ignored the commotion around us, I was able to focus completely at the task at hand. We completed our course several times, building, modifying, growing as we went along.  Each jump was smooth and even, the approaches steady,  my confidence building as we worked in tandem.

I know from experience that one impeccable ride does not translate into tomorrow’s lesson, but as a wonderful memory, a confidence builder, and a learning experience I will keep it.   Sue voiced that she didn’t think I would have worked through all those jumps earlier this year with so much motion going on, and I agree. I think I have worked extremely hard to leave some trivial fears behind.  And that is better for me and whichever horse I ride. C

The Inaugural Spring Ride

My favorite rites-of-spring passages:

1. Enjoying the first cocktail outside on the deck

2. The first 10 mile bike ride watching the children outside, people in their waiting-to-bloom gardens, dads washing their cars

3. My favorite–the first horseback ride outside

It’s been a long winter of riding in the dusty, sometimes dreary indoor arena with closed windows and open doors only letting frigid air in the aisles.  The outdoor arena has gone from a snow covered abyss to filled with giant muddy puddles, a lone sad jump knocked on its side.  Yesterday, however, as I drove up the long drive, the outdoor arena was set up for use.  Woo-hoo! 

I was excited to ride outside, this year more than I had been in a long time.  Last summer I had a horrific fall that resulted in several fractures and sprains in my hand, as well as a very bruised hip.  I didn’t get to ride during the fall, so this was my first time riding outside since the day I smashed into a jump instead of going over it.

I tacked up Dexter, a horse I had not ridden before but always looked very friendly, and we both enjoyed our inaugural spring ride together. There were several jumps in the arena set up with flower boxes, cavalleti poles along two sides of the arena, a mounting block, and a number of horses in the paddocks along side the arena.  

We started slowly, getting to know each other–and letting Dexter absorb his new surroundings.   We walked for 5 minues, then began trotting.  We worked circles, ground poles, serpentines, and just had fun.  We finished with a long, slow canter, picking up speed but not losing control as we finished our workout.

During our cool down, I was so fulfilled to have successfully completed my first outdoor ride–especially on a new horse.  Hopefully tomorrow we can try jumping.

It’s only April, so I know there will be more indoor days to come in the next two months, but I certainly look forward to more rides outside than in. And now I think I will open a crisp bottle of wine to enjoy on my deck…before the next raindrops come. C