Friday, November 15, 2013

Fighting for Balance

Riding has become a compulsion. I feel positively driven to ride any day that I can possibly fit in the tiniest of rides, always Tuesday through Friday. Unusually busy days like today are a struggle. I started fighting with myself yesterday: "but if I leave the house no later than 8, I can fit something in before I start teaching." or "Maybe I can stay and ride after my last lesson... I won't get home too much later than usual."

The problem is that I am tired. I am not reading, writing or taking the time to study riding theory (which I love) or study my Bible (which I also love). My babies aren't getting the extra walks I promised them... Not too mention my husband who thinks I would rather be at the barn than at home.

I love riding. Every second I spend leading the horse into and out of the ring, on a horses back, or grooming is a treasure and a blessing. Even when I am struggling with a problem, Matilda is resisting or she and I are fighting, there is happiness to be found in the saddle.

But I have to find ways to give time to the other joys in my life. Balance is so much a part of horses and it can't be just balance of body. It has to be balance in body, breath, thought and life.

It grates me a little but I will not ride today. I will enjoy my first day in my fleece lined cargo pants (since I won't be wearing riding pants). I will spend a little extra time petting the dogs and have that second cup of coffee. I will leave the barn early today, if possible.

And as I sit back, take a breath and sip my coffee, the thought crosses my mind: if you break your leg this weekend, you will regret this....

Sigh.


Thursday, October 17, 2013

Down the Rabbit Hole





(I need to rename this blog "Matilda's Project" and change some things. It's time to commit to letting this be about more than training Matilda and we are so far past the whole clicker training thing....)

About 13 years ago, I was working in an office in Washington, DC and living at home with my folks, saving money. I decided I had to do something different and after contemplating many options (including a simple vacation and taking classes for Microsoft certification) I decided to go back to school to get a music teaching degree at Converse College.

I was taking voice lessons at the time from an amazing teacher, Mrs. Eddy-Hurley. She was amazing to me not because of her teaching ability, though she is an excellent teacher, but because of her intuitive empathy. My arthritis was in it's 'glory' at the time and she could tell by the look on my face and how I walked into her studio how I was feeling. She would instinctively know that I was not up to standing next to the piano and pull out a chair that I could perch on for work or that I was so uncomfortable and sore we had to chuck the lesson and do body work, stretching and breathing on the floor. I would always leave her studio a little less locked up than when I walked into it.

She inspired me. I wanted to go back to school to be a teacher like her. Sharing a joy with people of all ages and from any walk of life but in such a way that was not limited by an expectation that we would simply work at singing everyday.

I was quickly side tracked at Converse. I made choices, some good~some bad (don't worry Ron, I think of you as one of the good ones:), that took me on a different path. It wasn't long before I was back in an office.

Ron and I caught some real breaks that allowed us to make some different choices in our lives. One was that Ron wanted me to realize a childhood dream of riding horses. I remember him talking about finding a place out in Taylors, he had talked to one of the owners on the phone and wanted to take a look. I remember driving out from Spartanburg that first time, thinking that it was too long a drive and there was no way this was actually happening; no way we would keep this up. Silliness.

Then I found myself riding. And I found Mrs. Eddy-Hurley again, this time in Kim. She seemed to know when my knees hurt too much or when I was too frightened to be pushed (more on fear later) but I rarely had to tell her. She knew (and still knows) when to chuck the lesson plan and just talk. Then she invited me deeper into her world.

Now I find, unexpectedly, that I have ended up on the path that was started 13 years ago. I am in a place where I can be the teacher I dreamed of being: 'Sharing a joy with people of all ages and from any walk of life but in such a way that was not limited by an expectation that we would simply work at singing (now riding) everyday.'. I just saw all this for the first time yesterday. Amazing.

It is never, ever too late folks. If God calls you to something, He calls you. It may not look like what you thought and the path may have many side trips but keep yourself open and all of a sudden you find yourself There. Too cool.

Thank you Kim, for inviting me into your Wonderland.

In October 2007 (I think), Ron and I walked down the gravel driveway of Bramblewood Stables for the first time:
Cathy, the first horse I rode at Bramblewood

  
Ron and Iggy

Bella, the only horse I ever owned, with Matilda, the horse that taught me you do not own horses. Horses own you. Then you spend your life making yourself worthy of their trust.

One of my first times on M. 2009?
Telling moment: Penny saw the barn before our house


Then all the rest:








 

For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.
~Jeremiah 29:11 (RSV)

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Yatta!!!

Today, I mounted Matilda from the ground. I honestly didn't think my leg was strong enough. Kim did. She made me try. I'm still a bit incredulous.

Then we found those canter steps that we've been looking for the past few weeks. On a circle. From a halt/walk. With only a 2-3 trot steps in between....

Ummmm.... that's all.

Friday, September 6, 2013

Trail Prep and Hill Work

I'm sorry all my pictures look basically the same but this is what I see, so you might as well see things from my perspective:)

I started putting this together yesterday. This morning I thought about this and the last two years as I read:

At the time, all discipline seems a cause not for joy but for pain, yet later it brings the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who are trained by it. ~ Hebrews 12:11


First we pause to take it all in...
while Matilda snacks on the hill:)
We walk down the hill,
And trot up!
Heading into the paddocks
One of my favorite spots. You can see the mountains.
Once the leaves are down we'll be able to see most of Bramblewood from here.
Down to the trailhead
Then some well deserved relaxation!

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Summer Riding

As the summer comes to a close it is a god time to look back and share what's been going on with Matilda and me over the course of the summer. Two ideas really dictated my approach, both from conversations with Kim towards the end of Spring:

1) Why does summer (bringing with it heat, summer camps and more ring traffic throughout the day) have to mean that I ride less? Just ride.

2) For the horse's sake, be the rider that you want your students and/or clients to become some day. Ride for others.

So that is what I did (or attempted to do). I rode. I got to the barn early to ride, before summer camps started, or during the heat of the day, the only time the ring was relatively clear. I rode in the rain. Some days I only had 15 minutes and so would do a 5 minute groom and sit on a pony for 10 minutes, trying to teach it to stand still. I made my best attempt to keep riding no matter what and ended up riding 2-4 times a week most of the summer.

I kept up my lessons with Kim for all but 2 weeks which helped to keep me on task. Words cannot express the joys of being in lessons, continuing to learn, grow and develop.

Matilda and I worked following my new philosophy of riding "small and smart": riding for others. The barn needs solid horse teachers for our students that we can trust with walk/trot work first. We spent our summer, not looking for great leaps of progress but keeping the focus on balance, engaging her hind quarters and building strength and muscle memory. All the while I was watching her, looking for patterns of bursts of energy or unwillingness to work. More and more I feel like our theory is correct: that most of Matilda's inconsistencies (resulting in head tosses, kicking up her heels or bolts) are due to lack of balance in her body and/or mine. With that in mind, we worked transitions and circles adding in poles here and there. We kept everything at the walk and trot as we built in a true emergency brake by doing halt transitions ad nauseum.
The Pony and Me

(As a short side note, I was also given the opportunity to join a team or riders that have been working with a pony  belonging to one of our boarders. He has been a blast to ride and work with throughout the summer. I hope I have helped the pony's owner by doing a little bit of ground work with him and helping burn some energy off during the week. He has been another good teacher for me and shown me some imbalances and oddities in how I am carrying myself that I have been able to take back to my work with Matilda.)

Our work appears to be paying off. We made it through the summer without another bolt or anything like it (even with the incredibly crazy rainy, cool summer we had here). Head tosses are incredibly rare. Kim, Matilda and I have begun venturing out to find her canter transition again while maintaining our focus on balance and consistency at the walk and trot. She is lighter and stronger these days. Her straight lines are straighter and her bend is soft. Her head is coming higher as she learns to engage her hind end more and more (though she would always prefer to stretch her head low). Her halt transitions are pretty gorgeous.

A common summer sight: Matilda waits for some banana
I received the best compliment ever, recently, when I heard someone talking about Matilda moving on her tippy toes. She is so much lighter you don't necessarily hear the thud of a draft horse clunking around the ring. Sometimes you even have to look to find her because of her light steps.

We have also begun re-introducing her to some of the students who were riding her before we took her out of the program in February/March. They seem to feel a difference as well, commenting on her softness and ease of movement.

Needless to say all of this makes me very happy. We have worked hard. I continue to ride even as others are using her more. In the past, I backed off riding her as her lesson schedule picked up and I think it was a mistake. Continuing to reenforce her basics for her sake is important so that other riders can focus on their own work without having to worry about her so much. (Does that sentence make any sense?!?)

Is there anything better than a freshly drug arena?
In my lesson, we are taking tiny steps forward by adding crossrails and, as I said, looking for her canter out of a walk transition. This requires good balance from her and it is a bit of a struggle for me. I have confidence that we will find it and it will be better than ever. More relaxed, lighter... less like I am being drug around the ring.... rather carried. I'm looking forward to continuing on!

I should add that it hasn't been all work. I have been able to practice my jousting skills, using my crop to battle unwary low hanging branches along the side of the ring. We have chased cats, scared people by sneaking up behind them, hurried into the freshly drug arena to make sure Matilda's footprints were the first, shared watermelon and bananas.... 

We are also starting to think about getting back on the trails. It's been a long time since either Matilda or I have been out on the trails. We are preparing by taking walks through paddocks, Kim's front yard, up and down the driveway and down to the trailhead and back. We are waiting for tick season to firmly come to an end before even thinking about really venturing out. It should be an exciting fall!


Sunday, August 11, 2013

Who I Choose to be.

If, as a teenager, someone had said to me, "I think you might be a strong female role model someday", they would have received that withering look I mastered all too early. (A strong anything was outside my imagination quite frankly) Mentioning the idea of being a teacher would have gotten you a kick in the shin. Yet I find myself in the awkward position of being both.

This point was driven home to me a couple of months ago as I was telling an off-hand story about my computer breaking. The guy who fixed it put some software on my computer that he thought I had but didn't. Something for nothing.

At the end of the story, I turned around to see my young student staring at me. Sponge in hand. Small black pony behind her.

Something for nothing. Stealing. No big deal by society standards.. But had she actually been listening? I could hear countless possible conversations between her and her parents...

My awareness was heightened. These kids are my students. The learning does not necessarily begin and end with horses. I am a teacher. Responsibility... It was a longer than usual drive home that night as so many thoughts boiled in my brain. I began to see my job in a totally new and much larger and brighter light.

There is a group of kids now in the world for whom I will forever be their "first riding instructor." When, hopefully, they are introducing their children to horses for the first time, they might reminisce about "Miss Sarah" and Bramblewood Stables. My name will be alongside Max, Choo or Lady as their first riding experience. I have the ability to craft that person and shape that experience.

Of course, perception plays into things. You can say the exact same words to two different students and one will think you a monster while the other sees you as just silly. Besides that, I am always me, somewhat awkward and nutty, tripping over poles and losing track of words. Sometimes losing my students in the ring for a moment because they walked behind me and my big hat. There are choices I can make, however, about how I present myself to my students and their parents.

Strong (or positive) female role model. Am I just being arrogant thinking that I could hold that kind of title?

I don't believe so. I believe that anytime you  are doing something that the people (especially kids) around you want to do and be a part of you automatically become a strong positive or negative role model. We have plenty of negative role models to observe. Most people probably get there by not caring and not choosing who they want to be to the world.

I am trying to actively choose the other. I want to be a positive influence in the lives around me. What does it mean to be a strong female role model? Does it mean that you are invincible? Know everything and are always right? Able to lift gigantic piles of horse poop and shavings with one hand tied behind your back? Not by my reckoning. To me it means:

I care about you (my students) and the world around me.I think the world is big and beautiful! I am not afraid to express my enthusiasm about the world that I live in. Horses are a part of that world. They are fun, exciting and wonderful teachers in their own right. They are also dangerous. Be patient. If you try to get to a goal quickly you are more likely to be hurt. Then you will walk away and lose this incredible gift of a life with horses. I don't want that for you.

I'm far from perfect and it's ok that you know. I fail but I try to fix it. I have bad days and I will be straight up about it if I'm in the midst of one. Kids need to know you fail or are sad or unhappy but that you can overcome and achieve in spite of it..

I'm not too proud to learn about my craft from 6 year olds during their first lesson or from taking lessons with people who have been in the business much longer than me. You never stop learning.  

I am living proof that it is never too late to achieve a dream you were never brave enough to dream. 
 
I consider each of the students under my care as precious cargo, even on the days they drive me crazy. I want them to know they are part of a world that is so much bigger than they understand but that they are still important.

For some reason, I got the idea growing up that most of my answers would be wrong and my opinions were unimportant. (Nobody knows why - God know I have the most wonderful and encouraging set of parents on the face of the earth, but there it is.) I had a  tendency to be shy, sharing my world and true self with a few friends that I felt really comfortable around. (Some may not believe that because they will only remember the silly moments but they didn't know how terrified I was almost every time I spoke).

So now I listen. If for some unknown reason my student thinks it's important for me to know about their favorite toy, that scratch on their dog's back, how their brother or sister kept them up late or that their grandpa watches a lot of TV then it's important for me to try to tune in and acknowledge their voice. I am a teacher and possible role model. They need to know that what they think about and say is worth hearing.

Not that I always succeed. It's not that easy. But I try.

I know some parents probably see us chatting and worry about how they are paying for their son or daughter to learn how to ride. Well, they'll learn to ride. I promise. It may take longer than you want but they'll get there.

They just might pick up some other things along the way.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Lesson Learned in a Lesson

Today was lesson two in the weekly series of lessons I plan on taking until the beginning of June. What a difference it makes to have someone else creating the exercise and changing it if necessary, to get instant feedback (whether it be compliment or critique) and to know you can settle into the process because this isn't your one shot to get as much as you can... that it will not be 3-6 months before you get anymore concentrated feedback (unless you are willing to interrupt some poor slubs lesson:/ guilty.)

It was so nice to feel the progression as Kim corrected, suggested and encouraged. And how beautiful to talk about what you felt and be able to ask questions and laugh about the weird things that might happen in the course of an hour.

One of the things I've been battling with Matilda recently is a short attention span. After half hour in the ring she would start to stumble and pop shoulders and head toss... to me, indications of loss of focus for one reason or another...

Today, as I began expounding on something like my 6th topic in twenty minutes ... well, Squirrel! What was I saying?

Most animals, horses included, become, in part at least, reflections of their rider; they mirror their riders focus, stiffness, fear, tension, softness, etc. I just had to laugh as I realized that Matilda's attention issues were mine as well! It helps to have eyes on the ground identifying where you have become the problem.

Then it helps to laugh at yourself.

Ride time by yourself is important, too, but I really do need more than 1 lesson every 6 months if I want to keep growing as a rider. I am looking forward to May.

Monday, April 22, 2013

The Journey is Long and Crooked

It would be really hard for me to describe the last few months; I think that the following email I wrote to my sister is a good summary of events. Written about a month ago, I have to say that I was not happy when I wrote it and it includes some exaggeration and hyperbole that I can see reading it back now. I don’t want to edit it so take it with a grain of salt:  

And so you do know you are never alone in your struggles, I will further explain my Matilda 'vaguebook' from the other day.

Basically I haven't had many solid rides with her since DECEMBER. I wasn't riding in January due to scheduling and she was being used for a college class we had going on. We all started noticing that her steering was going out by the end of January. I thought she just needed a good ride with an energy burn and we did that... but that wasn't it. I can't remember exactly when that last big bolt happened but along with that I have had refusals to move, head tossing, throwing the head down, attempts to drag me into the center of the ring, inability to bend, inability to straighten.... you get my drift. We have come to the point where our rides were more fights than anything, I was trying to strong arm her into things and I truly did not like who I was as a rider with her. A lot of our rides ended up with me totally dejected and in tears. I really felt like I had totally failed her.

March is here and things have changed. She is in heat, which we suspected was part of the problem, and I think there has been a hormone release from everything that builds up during the winter. It made things better but certainly hasn't fixed things. Still have the head tosses and she's added some bucks into the mix.

Oh, did I mention that she was taken almost completely out of the schooling program b/c she has been deemed almost completely unride-able? Her one student is someone who loves her and would rather just walk with her than push with anyone else.... talk about failure.

This week I felt the first signs that things are changing. Even so it has been hit or miss. Half hour rides with lots of meandering and three - ten steps of trot. Occasionally making it around the ring. We can't even attempt a crossrail (she drags me to it and bolts upon landing) say nothing of actually cantering.

Today I went back to the hackamore, a 'bitless' bit... all the way back to the beginning. Today was our first day with it and she was much better. Nowhere near where we were but it partly confirms our suspicion that something in her mouth may be the problem. It will take time to really tell.

I've learned so much in the last year, I can feel how unbalanced she is and where she has serious muscle weakness. I understand some things better. I pushed too hard too fast for my ability and now we have to go all the way back in order to go forward.

Frustrating. Trial and error. Going back to go forward. Wow. This got long. Guess I had things to share.
Matilda Back in her Hackamore
You could put the word “maybe” or “possibly” in front of a lot of those sentences that sound absolute. In my efforts to make things better I have changed saddles, shortened our rides, spent more time in grooming… the changes are numerous and it is hard to say what actually helped or if it was just a natural ebb and flow. So many variables.

We continue to work at a much slower pace than previously. I try to keep the focus on helping her create balance and muscle memory in the basics so that we can move forward. We are working again, though and we have reached a point where I can work on improving my riding skills with her.

In the frustrating days, I started to ride another horse from time to time so that I could both enjoy riding and work on ‘my stuff’ rather than always focusing on how to get Matilda going again. I have gotten a lot out of riding Sheba and am now trying to bring what she has taught me back to Matilda. I may write more about my time with Sheba in another post.

She's so beautiful.
I could go on and on about these last few months. I have spent more time than anyone could imagine pondering Matilda: breaking down every second we spent together, trying to figure out if I have done something wrong, is it the weather, the bit, the saddle?  On and on it has gone.

We’re figuring it out together, slowly but surely, with the Kim’s help. She has listened patiently to a lot of my frustration, excitement… she has heard every story with patience and humor. I am committed to weekly lessons with her until summer begins so that she can watch and suggest and continue to listen and support. Kim’s cool.


Don’t think that everything has been “sturm und drang”. Matilda and I have been having a lot of fun. I discovered and nurtured her fondness for bananas; she gets at least half of every banana I bring to the barn. I tried to give her a cat but the cat would not stay with her. I spend countless hours with her in her stall or in her paddock: grooming her, scratching her itchy spots or watching her sleep.



In spite of or because of everything, I love her more and more. Don’t worry about that one. :)

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Mr. Toad's Wild Ride (Story Time!)

So many foolish things I say. So many things should remain unsaid.

In my last post, I talked about how solid Matilda is and how I don't need to ride her as much. I was true to my word and significantly reduced my riding in November, December and January. Reports of quickness and shoulders popping came in with phrases like "her power steering has gone out". My ego would like to think that she was missing our rides and somehow crying out for me (we joked a little that she must have read my post and disagreed with me) but the reality is that she is young and still relatively new to the life of a school horse. We seemed to have reached the point where she began testing boundaries and discovering.... ummmm.... how to challenge inexperienced riders (to put it kindly).

Due to an exceptionally heavy lesson schedule, I had no time to ride until the end of January. I watched her in lessons and felt an explosion of some sort was inevitable. Time for me to put riding Matilda back on my regular schedule.

The first few rides were remarkable in their uneventfulness. They felt exactly like our rides in November. I remember watching her get quick in one of Kim's lessons and saying something to the effect of 'I'm just not getting that from her. Why won't she explode with me? I'm waiting for an explosion and getting just the same old ride.' Famous last words.

It had to be a short ride on Tuesday which meant no time for our usual warm up, involving a series of adapted yoga poses for me to balance and breathe ultimately connecting my breath to my movement then to her movement as we bend, twist and open up our spine and ribs together. We did take a moment for me to goof off and see if I could pull off a pose that I envisioned over the weekend:

She looks relaxed and happy there, doesn't she?

The ride began normally; at some point I pressed her off the rail and then pressed her back to the rail (I can't remember why) and in that simple moment everything changed. Matilda was 'up'. Her trot was fast and huge; her neck and head, usually stretched out with her nose attempting to drag on the ground, was high so that I had to keep shortening my reins in order to keep contact with her mouth. It was as if a switch had flipped and I knew I had found the ride I had been waiting for- the one that would give her the energy burn that I felt she needed and that was inevitable.

I got around to asking for a canter on the left.  It started with a head toss and came fast and huge. It was a canter on the edge but a true 3 beat canter and she was with me and I felt comfortable and in control. This was the explosion that I knew was coming. As I defined explosion. Before. How naive.

We took a break as Kim finished up a lesson (Kim, her adult student on a pony and 2 other girls who were job shadowing that day were in the ring). I asked to have the rail so that I could have a canter on the right.

The trot on the right, leading up to the canter departure, was even more jacked up with some head tosses thrown in for good measure. I had a very particular spot in the ring where I wanted to ask for that canter. I kept my leg on and used deep half-halts... I remember laughingly saying 'I think I'll keep my reins super short!' I began to sink, closing my seat to ask for the canter and *POW* in the blink of an eye, I was on a runaway freight train....

Here I must pause as the story breaks into 2 parts. As with any panicky, emergency situation my brain was processing so much and on different levels: primarily what I was doing and what I was feeling in Matilda. As happens in these situations, however, the timeline is fractured so I must fracture the story. I know how I would like to believe things linked up but I am not certain. You will understand as things unfold....

I was on a runaway freight train. From the first couple of steps it was clear this was different. Not a couple of steps of craziness before settling into a canter, we were in deep. My brain shut off. Typical. Tipped forward in the corner. Lost a stirrup. I cannot recite the initial thoughts because they would not be appropriate for my audience. The upshot of my thinking, as I found myself tipped forward onto her neck, was 'grab mane and just hold on!' Kim had stepped into our path, becoming a human barricade in an effort to slow Matilda down, thankfully leaving us room to pass along the rail. There was no slowing her down at this point but as I passed my dear Kim, I heard her yell 'SIT UP!' I did and  found my reins were in my hands. I had not lost them and I still had contact.

I wish I had an MRI of my brain at this point because I KNOW it started firing. Big time. Hold, half-halt, use your leg, press her into your hands, deeper half-halt... then I heard my own voice, Obi-wan Kenobi style, 'RELAX! DON'T GRIP WITH YOUR KNEE! BREATHE!' I breathed. I felt my hips open and my seat deepen. There was that subtle shift as my legs wrapped around her body instead of digging into her sides...


At the start, I was on a runaway freight train: What was I feeling from Matilda? A true freight train. Full speed ahead. Pedal to the metal. Unyielding and unforgiving. Hold? Half-halt? Squeeze? Like trying to knead iron or stone.

After one lap around the ring, all of a sudden, it changed. I felt her become a living, breathing animal under me. We were still galloping; the shape of her body had not changed but everything had changed....

I like to think those 2 events were linked but I don't know. I do know that as those 2 moments unfolded I saw Kim start to move into our path again and I had found my voice. 'I GOT IT!' I called to her with complete conviction. In that moment, I was certain that my balance and position were good and I had her, that this was going to end well and that I was not going to be picking sand out of my teeth for the rest of the day. I knew it deep down.

My voice now found, I started to talk to Matilda, 'Whooooaa....' again and again. I felt those first steps of true canter and encouraged it, not wanting to come down too suddenly, until I heard 'I would feel much better if your foot was in that stirrup!' Yes, my friends, I was still riding with one stirrup. Trot, walk, grins, breathing, laughter. I was still in the saddle. Miracles.

My lesson wasn't over. I couldn't leave the ride there. I picked up another trot and found Matilda still jacked up! If this was about unused energy, our run would have taken the edge off. There is something else, something more fundamental or elemental going on here. No way I was going to ask for another canter transition at this point so I put her on a tiny trot circle instead. After (what felt like) 10 circles I felt something like the same change I had felt before... a softening perhaps? I put her on the rail and we had a nice, even -paced trot around the ring. Ride over. Content. No more.

Questions abound: What caused this? There are so many variables: hormones, seasons, weather extremes, no warm up.... Is that explosion inevitable or can I ride smarter and get to the other side without 'AAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!'? Right now, I don't know. Time will tell.

I do know I gained a lot from that ride: information, knowledge, things to ponder and consider, feelings....

I can still 'feel' that change from machine to life when I think back. That is something I want to treasure always. I don't understand why it is important but my gut tells me it is vital. I will remember it,treasure it, ponder it deep within my heart.

There are more discoveries just around the corner. Some have been uncovered and will be shared in the next post but some are hidden, holding their breath and waiting to be uncovered.

I am riding, working. The adventure of the Matilda project continues....