Anna Blake's Blog, page 24

COVID-19 with Horses: How Are We Doing?

If horse people know one thing, it’s that it’s never just one thing. Having horses also means we partner with the land. Sometimes it’s hard to tell us from our land; we bear the same scars. Colorado is in a drought, as many areas of the world are. We have the two largest wildfires in history just ten miles apart. Friends are evacuating and while currently, no fire is close to my farm, it’s impossible to not feel the loss and devastation of homes and lives, tame and wild. My little pond tells the story of this year as well as I can. Birds are gone, the ground hard and dry, the air stale. And we do what we can do.

At the beginning of the pandemic back in March, I was asked about how the pandemic was impacting my horses. We live on a dirt road. The suburbs are much closer than twenty years ago, but it’s a quiet life and my herd does well. I’m sure they feel the drought more than COVID-19, but life is good here if you’re a horse.

Horse people, as a group, are politely reclusive introverts. Social distancing is our lifestyle, we all joked about how lockdown wasn’t much of a challenge. I also notice that we stayed in touch with our friends on social media, filling the feed with pictures of horses. Now it’s deep into fall, and I asked my online group, The Barn, how it was going. I’m very proud to share their comments.

Some of us got more horse time: “Just spent plenty of time chilling out with my equine’s. Live life to the fullest as you never know what is around the corner. Also making the best out of a situation that you can’t control.”

“Because of this year’s unique conditions, I’ve spent more time away from others at the barn, and have spent time with my horses in the way that I want to.”

“I definitely spend more time with Raymond. It’s one place I can just BE without politics, news, or noise.”

“I adopted my first horse in over 30 years just a month before this all started. There is a local dressage trainer I had planned on working with… The pandemic stopped that when she rightly stopped visiting area barns. This has left me to learn to work with Bella on my own. We could only be at the barn one at a time for months, so I didn’t even have my friends to offer pointers. … It has been lonely at the barn but all the one-on-one time means my attention has been on her and I think has actually helped our bonding. I have Bella and my dogs and only miss people occasionally, lol.”

Some of our horses got a break: “We are lucky enough to have not been too affected, things have changed in a lot of ways but for me, my job became a lot more hectic which meant a little less horse time… Probably just what my horse needs at the moment.”

“I am so crazy busy at work and with moving and other family issues that I haven’t had/made the time to ride or interact much. Probably better for the horses because I don’t believe my emotional state is optimal right now. On the other hand, knowing that they’re there and that I’m working towards a goal for all of us is keeping me going.”

We found less was truly more. “I think motivation has been the biggest challenge for me. That lack of motivation… is because all of those other emotions, responses, intentions come together in a huge tangle. My horses are, fortunately, doing well but I don’t want to share this murky, uncertain energy with them. So we don’t do much in terms of what I would really like to do. The upside is that I’ve learned to accept that. Today, for example, I just sat around in the pasture with the horses. It was comforting and required nothing of them.”

We noticed other benefits: “… in some ways I have enjoyed the “Big Pause” the world had in the beginning of the pandemic. A slowing down. Less running to and fro to shop or whatever. Being more mindful of each and every purchase as each foray out seemed risky.”

A pandemic doesn’t give a pass on the usual challenges. Cancer, injuries, and the loss of parents, family, and friends. Nothing reminds us of our fragility like the loss of a good horse or a sweet old dog.  “… it’s given us extra time with our 15 yr old pup as she nears the end of her time with us.”

“It’s been really up and down. At first I was pleased that I could be more home-based and have time with the horses, then in the first two weeks of lockdown I had the vet out twice – one with laminitis and one with a chest infection. I was grateful I was home for all the extra care and soaking and dunking of hay, but it wasn’t how I had hoped it would be. A month later we said goodbye to our old greyhound- which was sad but the right time for her.

“I think the pandemic has hit me in a similar to having a bad fall off a horse when post-menopausal. It’s made me realise that I no longer bounce or bend, and can break when things go wrong. The realities of life during the pandemic are showing our weaknesses — food scarcity and the anxiety that causes, our reliance on natural resources which are under intense pressure because of climate change, our reliance on communities which we’ve generally not tended and so our ties to each other are tentative at best.”

Inconceivably, many of us made friends with technology: “I learned that I don’t really want to be a hermit as I previously thought but have learned to truly appreciate the relationships in my life, both in person and virtual. I’m thankful for a husband with a heart of gold and technology that has proven crucial in keeping us connected to the outside world.”

“Really thankful for the technology that facilitated that and the lessons with Anna and the BITS course. Very grateful for this group and the online like-minded horse companionship.”

Horse people know their first job is to buy hay. Some of us struggled as our income changed. “As a small business owner (and sole provider) who was impacted by COVID financially, the biggest horse struggle I have had has been keeping my boys fed. I am grateful to report that my community has been supportive…”

“I’m separated from my horses by 1000 miles [for work] and haven’t seen them in person for nearly 5 months due to state border closures here in Australia. I’m lucky my hubby is looking after them and my friends, vet and farrier are all supportive. It pulls at your heartstrings. Must be similar for our defense servicemen/ women who have to leave their families and animals for extended periods of time. That’s what I keep telling myself.”

There is unrelenting stress. “It just seems to be life. This pandemic, uncertainty that our democracy maintains its root structure. Can I keep those I love safe? Adaptation, reinvention, compassion, contempt, civility, anger, prioritizing. I am worn out, depleted, and devoid of goodwill. Then the woman filling her water jugs turns to me and we both smile with our eyes…”

It called for the best in us. “My time with my horses has sadly decreased. As a veterinarian, I have not been asked to stop working. My staff and I have powered through restrictions on materials we use, never-ending phone calls, and stressed out belligerent people that refuse to protect others by wearing a mask. I have never worked harder in my life. I’m not a fearful person as a rule. I’m more of a “fixer” that will gladly step into a problem to find a quick solution, but I’ll have to say fear has crept in around the edges on more than one occasion during this year. The pandemic in the US has also become an all-encompassing political battle. I have never been a political person, but am now forced into it on a daily basis. Disappointment in my fellow Americans has also been on my mind. I’m trying very hard to erase that feeling, but it is persistent. I truly believe we are better than this. We can do better and treat each other with love and compassion.”

We’re a herd, having each other is a lifeline of support, each in our own individual way. We weighed mortality against the quality of daily life, planted our noses deep into a friendly mane, and held it together. Because even over a mud puddle, a sunset reminds us to look up and count our blessings.

 

 

With gratitude to The Barn members for their honesty. I’m lifted and humbled and more grateful than ever to be part of this tribe of horse people. Thank you.

…

Anna Blake for Relaxed & Forward 

Want more? Visit annablake.com to find over a thousand archived blogs, purchase books, schedule a live consultation or lesson, subscribe for email delivery of this blog, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses. The Barn, our online training group with video sharing, audio blogs, live-chats with Anna, and the most supportive group of like-minded horsepeople anywhere. Courses and virtual clinics are taught at The Barn School, where I host our infamous Happy Hour. Affirmative training is the fine art of saying yes.

The post COVID-19 with Horses: How Are We Doing? appeared first on Anna Blake.

Real-Time Communication: The Land of What-If

My horse always pulls his head away. My horse never wants to go first on the trail. My horse always fusses during vet calls. My horse never likes arena work.

Humans love to show knowledge and predict an outcome. It demonstrates that we know our horses, have been in the situation before, and lived to tell the tale. Besides, we have these frontal lobes that like to tell us stories and remember what good horses are supposed to do. Of course, everything is judged by our perception. Horses are deemed good or bad as they compare to our expectations. Or the expectations of railbirds or something we read somewhere. The conversations are going on between our memories and our expectations. I suppose that works fine if you’re in your kitchen with a cup of coffee. If you are near a horse, maybe include him in the conversation?

Sometimes when people tell me about their horse’s behaviors, they are dead-on right. Sometimes people tell me about the horse next to them and the horse tells me a different story entirely. But the problem with words like always and never is that they stop us from being in the present. Instead of using our senses in the current environment, we’re busy reliving the past. We’re getting anxious because we have a vet coming and the horse feels your anxiety before you get the halter on him. He senses your shoulders stiffen between his front hooves and the back ones. He feels your frustration about his resistance to cantering in the arena, but you don’t feel your hand pulling on the inside rein. How many times are we unconsciously cuing the behaviors we don’t want as well as the ones we consciously want?

But then one day, something unexpected happens. It always happens when “you least expect it” which means at some point when you don’t have a loud mental agenda rattling on. In that pause, your horse does something that surprises you. In that moment, you weren’t insisting on something and there had been enough quiet air for your horse to get a thought in edgewise. Humans do prattle on, horses notice.

Your horse has offered an idea, a suggestion, or volunteered action. And because we are who we are, we immediately try to intellectualize what just happened. The first thing you notice is that words don’t fit. Horses communicate in a more three-dimensional way. Ask your brain to take a rest and get back to that ambiguous place where anything can happen: The present moment where your horse can do magic.

As a trainer, it’s my job to translate conversations between horses and riders. And in these COVID-19 days, I do that in online lessons and classes. You can tell me that you always have tech problems, and you can never get things to work right, but please try. There’s a reason that instant replay exists. Video doesn’t get lost in translation. Horses ask us to stand in a less threatening position. They tell us they listen to our feet and resist our hands. If we get a couple of things right, they change. If we insist on doing it our way and not listening, they resist. The best thing about videoing yourself with your horse, whether you share it or just watch it alone, is that we see the three-dimensional language we miss in real-time. Once we recognize it, we have a chance of at least staying in the conversation, if not changing things at the next opportunity.

Being self-aware in the present moment is a skill most of us need to work on. Humans have lost our way in the natural world. We’re animals that have over-used our brains and become under-aware of our senses. We’ve fallen into complacency. It’s why a walk in the woods or even nature photography draws us in. Some part of us misses when we were wild, more three-dimensionally alive. I think that’s what we love about horses. But humans have a way of destroying the things we love. Maybe we get jealous, but we try to train that beauty out of horses.

What if we let ourselves go to their horse-reality rather than trying to cookie-cutter them into ours? (Just a moment of silent acknowledgment for all the mothers who bought pink dresses and dolls for little girls who could not move from room to room without a stick pony between their knees. Egads, we are the ones born to break cookie cutters!)

The irony of this moment isn’t lost on me. You and I are intellectually wandering back and forth between our minds, just loitering inside our heads. Words are all fine and a good distraction, but how does this cheap talk benefit horses? What is the physical behavior a human might practice to communicate with horses in their language and in their reality? Instead of chattering about brain science, using big words, dulling our brain as well as our senses, let’s just for today, shortcut to what it looks like in action.

What if you let your horse lollygag along and explore everything he wanted to in the barn aisle? What if you took your horse to the arena and let him take you for a tour of the places interesting to him? What if you got to a place during a work session where you weren’t sure what to do next, and you let your horse decide? What if your horse got nervous, and you took a moment to diffuse the anxiety, rather than get more anxious yourself?

Yes, chaos will ensue. You will both be unstuck in habitual response, maybe he’ll pause. It will look like nothing’s happening because he is reading your coyote-anxiety. He’s waiting for a direct order, expecting a correction. Give him some peace and quiet to think. He won’t stand around forever, that’s your impatience to finish his sentences for him. When you let your horse fill in the blanks, a horse can become a more confident partner in reality.

It’s your job to let your horse be curious. To allow yourself to be curious. We can learn to love the unexpected and begin living in the Land of What-If.

And soon, when you and your horse see the challenge coming and you can alter your own behavior as a way of accepting and releasing your horse’s behavior. And then your horse can give you a better answer than the rote answer you expected. Having an open mind takes keen situational awareness. Being vulnerable to each other is honesty.

Or I could say it this way: The act of your horse engaging his curiosity is the act of building new neuropathways in his brain. It’s how you “teach an old dog new tricks” because horses continually learn. There is no expiration date for growth and change.

Humans are just the same. But we never want to under-think. We are always looking for quick compliance.

…

Anna Blake for Relaxed & Forward 

Want more? Visit annablake.com to find over a thousand archived blogs, purchase books, schedule a live consultation or lesson, subscribe for email delivery of this blog, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses. The Barn, our online training group with video sharing, audio blogs, live-chats with Anna, and the most supportive group of like-minded horsepeople anywhere. Courses and virtual clinics are taught at The Barn School, where I host our infamous Happy Hour. Affirmative training is the fine art of saying yes.

The post Real-Time Communication: The Land of What-If appeared first on Anna Blake.

Horse Woman, Our Narrative

Drawing by Rebecca Howard

I usually write a gray mare rant annually on my birthday. I’m late, but that’s because I had to let it lay in the sun for a while until the varmints picked its bones clean. It needed to decompose a bit before I could articulate my feelings into language that wouldn’t scare the goats. Like many of you, COVID-19 has given me a “memorable” year. See, if I hadn’t let things decompose for a while, I would have used another word. Usually, my best birthday rants start in the shower, for obvious gray mare reasons, but this year, it was at my desk. Kind of social distancing from the start.

It was my birthday and I’m currently isolating again. I notice if you’re over sixty-five, the plan seems to be to isolate forever. I planned a self-party, got seafood and New Zealand wine and a nice little cake. Okay, a cupcake. I was going to take the day off from online work and binge with the tv instead of my computer screen. Wild thing, aren’t I? I started looking for something worthy to stream, meaning something with horses in it. I splurged on Yellowstone, actually paying for a season. It’s the usual Western range war plot with Kevin Costner playing John Wayne’s character, set in current time. The first episode opens with Costner saying sweet words, as the camera pulls back to show a horse standing calmly in a trailer wreck with bones exposed, and then he shoots the horse in the throat.

Just a couple inches off from a kill shot. That’s the problem with us; we know too much. Loudmouth Party-poopers like me get to a certain age and are just no fun anymore. It would have made for a bad camera angle, I guess. But I paid for the full season and my kind tends to be frugal, so the kill shot didn’t work on me either. I kept watching it. Why do cowboys wax poetic about horses but then rip their mouths, gouge their flanks, and generally manhandle horses forever? How much male arrogance, violence, misogyny, and just bad training do I have to watch for some decent scenery and some nice horses? Because the horses, calming signals blazing, told their story, too, except they weren’t acting. Am I the only one who thinks the cowboy narrative has worn thin?

I do understand that women my age are no one’s demographic. No one thinks they can sell us anything, and clearly, I wasn’t buying this. As long as the films are made by the ones with money in Hollywood, we’ll be force-fed the same stories they think are good. There is the other option of movies about the horse racing industry. I’m like you. I cry when I see horses running, partly because of their beauty and partly because of the number of deaths of young horses on the track. We should all be loudmouth party-poopers, follow the number of track deaths, and put an end to these movies, if anyone listened to us. And of course there is no shortage of the horse-crazy girl genre out there. We grew up on National Velvet and there is still money to be made off of girls, I guess. Each generation seems to have a new teen hit. We joke that we never outgrow this phase, but why get us hooked on horse movies and then cut us off at adulthood? Sure, there are a few exceptions; women in supporting roles.

Ruth Bader Ginsburg said, “When I’m sometimes asked ‘When will there be enough [women on the Supreme Court]?’ and I say ‘When there are nine,’ people are shocked. But there’d been nine men, and nobody’s ever raised a question about that.” I laughed when I heard her quote. It was impossible to think we’d have even an equal number of female justices, much less 100%, when women are half the population. But in the horse world, women are the majority. We own over 92% of the horses. And it isn’t girls, it’s women of a certain age who have bank accounts of their own. We are consumers; this industry depends on our dollars.

Why does it matter, any of this flap about a gray mare who wanted to see something different on her birthday? Because our culture is impacted negatively by these worn-out role models, so interwoven into our culture that we don’t question them. Because it trickles down and we are taught abusive training practices that we went along with when we knew it wasn’t okay. Because we get complacent and horses end up suffering the most. And then, if you haven’t noticed, women are the ones out there trying to clean up the mess by rescuing horses. How is our majority overlooked? Are we just too busy breathing and mucking to speak up? That might be our fault.

In the middle of my birthday angst, this blog of mine got trolled. It’s not the first time. A man let loose on several of the commenters on a blog praising mares. He mansplained about stallions and men and testosterone, those same three words in each of his scathing responses. The comments were mean and spiteful. Loud and self-important. Repetitive and uninformed. Bless his heart for trying to save us from ourselves, but haven’t we all heard enough of this kind of foolishness? Don’t you hate being underestimated? I had no choice but to take some action with the help of a few varmints. He made the ultimate mistake of using the term You Ladies. “Geldings exist so You Ladies have horses to ride.”

Let me start here. I am no lady. I am a Horse Woman.

Women have a proud history. My grandmother, Leafa Numbers Blake, proudly claimed she had delivered more foals and calves than any woman in early 1900s North Dakota. She said, “It was a tough life if you was useless.”

Like her, we’ve found purpose building our lives, sometimes elbow deep in dirt and blood, but doing whatever work that needed to be done. Horses have always been our north star. For many of us, the cowboy persona has never been a good fit. Women have earned a narrative to honor our own lives with horses and the land. We tell a uniquely female account of living and working with horses, coming out of the shadow of cowboy hats and spurs. For us, it was never about fighting for domination. It was always about herd and home.

With gratitude to my readers who share their stories and inspire me every day, I have a new book coming out next month. The title is Horse. Woman. It’s about you.

…

Anna Blake for Relaxed & Forward 

Want more? Visit annablake.com to find over a thousand archived blogs, purchase books, schedule a live consultation or lesson, subscribe for email delivery of this blog, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses. The Barn, our online training group with video sharing, audio blogs, live-chats with Anna, and the most supportive group of like-minded horsepeople anywhere. Courses and virtual clinics are taught at The Barn School, where I host our infamous Happy Hour. Affirmative training is the fine art of saying yes.

 

The post Horse Woman, Our Narrative appeared first on Anna Blake.

A List of Inedible Treats for Your Horse

It’s funny how something someone says can turn over in your mind for years after. I had a visitor, and since I am more comfortable in the barn than the house, I took her into my family pen. Back then, there were five horses, a couple of donkeys, a mini, and a pair of goats. Edgar Rice Burro sees himself as the perfect coffee table. He likes to be in the middle. We were all in a loose circle around him, quietly chatting for an hour or more. Think the way horses stand and swish flies for each other, we were just breathing, sharing space, and under-achieving. It was peaceful. In the horse world, we always say that less is more, but rarely demonstrate it. I think this is what it looks like: no anxiety.

My guest was preparing to leave. Her feet probably hurt; it isn’t like I offered her a chair. She blurted out to the herd, “I have nothing for you,” apologizing. Does she think they expect something from her? I explain that I don’t feed hand treats, but she still checks her pockets. I’m fairly sure the herd thinks she’s looking for chapstick. “Sorry,” she tells the gelding, who reads her anxiety and furrows his brow, worried that he did something wrong. Moments before the visitor was gently touching his neck. “They are just so nice,” she says. I thank her but her words stay with me. Her visit wasn’t nothing. Company is always interesting to the herd. Does she think that peace and acknowledgment are not sweet?

When I write about not hand feeding, I think most people would rather read a description of how to remove a horse’s eye with a teaspoon and no anesthesia, because that’s less cruel than not giving treats.

Here’s how it would go: The poor visitor pulls a couple of carrots out of her pocket and the herd goes on high alert smelling something they can’t quite place… until they do. Then it’s like a domino effect: the chronic ulcer horse is food-aggressive, he comes by it honestly, but he starts pushing. The mini would want some, but he is shy and won’t come close; it’s an existential dilemma. The donkeys get more cautious, but the goats, the most selfish and least likely to share, would start headbutting everyone. Then the young mare would have to bite somebody on general principle because she must restore order to the universe, and whoever she bit would need to escape. I’d be trying to grab the guest and run backward. Edgar prides himself on a slow and steady response so he would freeze on the spot and wait for things to settle, most likely on my escape route. Not to mention, there is enough sugar in an apple or carrot to create an incident for a horse with a gastric disorder. The food-aggressive ulcer horse has now dropped to the ground colicking. No kidding. A bite of sweet feed will do it, too. Sugar is poison.

Disclaimer: Obviously, I’m not talking about clicker training or treats in buckets. There’s an argument that giving hard feed is a kind of hand feeding. You do use your hand. For crying out loud, if you want to split hairs, so is throwing hay.

There are two questions that keep her statement in my head. Why do we feel that we aren’t enough around animals? That we must bribe them to come to us? Do we use food as a shortcut or abbreviation of something we feel? Can we articulate that better? Because being a partner should rise above being a treat dispenser. (Sorry/not sorry.)

And second, and more important, is it our goal to spread anxiety in a herd? Reading your horse’s calming signals, is it possible that the reaction you take as happiness or affection might actually be anxiety? Does our presence unsettle the herd? When we finish working, we cheer the horse for licking and chewing, or yawning or rolling, but what would happen if we didn’t create the anxiety that horses need to release later? What if we behaved as though less was truly more? If horses are looking for safety, then I want to be a respite from the chaos, I want to be the calm eye of the hurricane because horses crave safety most of all.

Trust his intelligence. If you want a better relationship with your horse, then reward them with just that: kindness, peace, and breath.

Affirmative Training is all about rewarding and affirming the horse. It isn’t that we don’t use treats, it’s that we don’t take shortcuts. We constantly reward our horses, but we do it in his language of calming signals. It’s subtle sometimes, but we know the value of an exhale. We’ll change our own personal human calming signals to adjust our body-voice, and take the time necessary to express affirmations to build his confidence. We’ll use our internal energy to become the partner the horse needs. Feeding a carrot would take a whole lot less effort, but would it say the same thing?

As promised, an introductory list of inedible treats:

Self-awareness: Share the situational awareness your horse has in his environment. Literally see it his way. Less tunnel vision, more ‘big picture’ understanding.
Consistency: be the same person while training that you are when mucking. Be a source of interest and curiosity and not correction and aggravation.
Silence: Let the air be mostly still, give him a chance to get a word in edgewise. Learn the art of quiet focus and connection. Talk with people some other time.
Choice: Let your horse take you for a walk. Just go along with him, give him his head. Spoiler: he wants to graze.
Touch: Communicate peace, lay a quiet still hand on his neck, flank, or hind, but leave his face alone. Learn to be supportive, not intrusive.
Praise: Be generous with kind words and exhales and laughter. Horses read our emotions; they like us happy. Then let the air rest again.
Autonomy: Give him his space. Let him hold his own self up. Stay at least 3 ft away from his head, use a long lead, and notice his eye soften.
Listen: Learn his language and acknowledge his calming signals. Be aware of the anxiety you create, work for his safety. Answer in his language.
Slow down: Give the horse the gift of time to answer the question and then the time he needs to process. Quit before you want to, stay hungry for more.
Rhythm: No stiff coyote stares, move with a smooth rhythm while leading or riding or swaying in the breeze in the pasture. Movement is release.
Most of all, breathe as a cue. Trust that an exhale is more eloquent and effective than any training aid possible. Watch your horse agree.

Please, know that you have all you need; that you are more than enough for your horse. Horses always require some soul-searching honesty, but then begin the nuanced work of becoming your horse’s partner. You can be his oasis of sanity. You can be the treat.

…

Anna Blake for Relaxed & Forward 

Want more? Visit annablake.com to find over a thousand archived blogs, purchase books, schedule a live consultation or lesson, subscribe for email delivery of this blog, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses. The Barn, our online training group with video sharing, audio blogs, live-chats with Anna, and the most supportive group of like-minded horsepeople anywhere. Courses and virtual clinics are taught at The Barn School, where I host our infamous Happy Hour. Affirmative training is the fine art of saying yes.

 

The post A List of Inedible Treats for Your Horse appeared first on Anna Blake.

Do You Need Riding Lessons?

It was a conversation about riding lessons. My friend said she thought it was strange that I’d worked so extensively with trainers. Yes, I could have paid for a college degree with the money I spent on riding lessons back in the day. She said in her country, people didn’t do that. I’m not sure it’s a thing in my country, either. And it isn’t easy to explain. My mother thought her adult daughter was some special kind of stupid to still need lessons after riding most of her life. Maybe she imagined that I just kept falling off the side. After a few years of my riding improving more than her attitude, I came up with an answer. I told her that even Olympic riders had coaches. But dad watched the Olympics on tv all those years and she hadn’t ever seen any horses there. Mom had me on that one.

Do You Need Riding Lessons? No. I’m sure your horse is perfect. All horses are perfect and honest and right.

As for you, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. You have no problems at all, most likely. None. Your cues are clear and your body awareness is amazing. All the transitions you ask for are easy and calm. No spooking, no vices. Besides, you “only” trail ride. (your words, never mine.) Or you have a friend who is more experienced, and it gives the two of you something to share angst about. Some of us like drama.

Maybe you stopped riding because your horse didn’t like being ridden. You decided it was cruel to ride. If you have a sound horse who doesn’t enjoy being ridden, that tells a story of cruelty that might not be flattering to his past owner. Does that purgatory have to go on forever? Has the horse quit or is it you? Because horses are resilient above all and you can change the world for him.

He’s supervising the conversation about hands.

Maybe you stopped riding because you got nervous. I truly do understand that reason. I don’t know a rider who hasn’t hit that bump, myself included. If you can make that choice to walk away and it doesn’t haunt you, then seriously, do it. Most of us can’t.

Maybe you’re addicted to the adrenaline rush from near disaster on a horse. Maybe you get a thrill when you wrestle with a horse in the “cowboy way.” Okay, your horse is terrified of you, but maybe it’s worth it for the rush. If that’s true, you are an ass hat, and riding lessons won’t help you. You got me; I don’t understand you any more than your horse does.

Maybe you’re too remote for a trainer to come, or you have trailer issues. The high side of this pandemic is that good trainers are available online for live lessons. It’s different and horse people are famous for hating technology, but you’ve managed a cellphone, (the only requirement). The world is changing, we’re all re-inventing our lives. The best reason to experiment with online lessons? Your horse gets to work from home.

Maybe you believe all the trainers are monsters. Sure, some are, like any professional field. But are the people telling me, these people who have not worked with me, that my hard-won vocation, my mentor’s vocation before me, is deplorably brutal? Watch me take a deep breath, something horses taught me. I’ll flash a big toothy smile and say, “Try me.” Not taking things personally is in lesson one.

Maybe you’ve never had an advocate on your side. Someone who cares about your horse, whose job it is to listen to you. Most riders are introverts and it’s a vulnerable thing to ask for help. Sometimes it can feel like your horse is a bad boyfriend or that things are a bit dysfunctional, riddled with misunderstandings. All you want is a better relationship. Yay, that’s the right answer. If he was human, you’d break down and ask him to go to therapy. Well, horse trainers are couple’s therapists. They’re translators. The best are peacemakers.

Or maybe, and this reason is achingly sad to me, you’ve never ridden a relaxed, confident horse and you don’t know there is an alternative. You haven’t seen a horse’s intellect, you haven’t met them at a place of mutual trust. It’s okay, you can love them anyway.

Most of the riding horses in rescue have a training issue that a good trainer could help the rider turn around but the rider thought would be easier to get a different horse. Mysteriously, the next horse they got had the exact same problem.

“I never sent a horse to training but when I finally starting taking lessons the world opened up. Here’s to the great instructors. Everyone should seek help for themselves, even the greatest riders have mentors. My pet peeve is expecting the horse to retain training without the rider getting some too.” -Tracie Calabro and her mares.

Romantic job, isn’t it?

Does your horse think you should take lessons? Lordy. They never shut up about it. “Can you see she is kicking me every stride?” “You must tell her how much this saddle hurts, please, she can’t hear me.” And frequently, “Can you do something about her hands!? I can’t breathe.” said most horses, including some of my own. That inside hand thing? Everyone has that problem, you aren’t special. An inside hand that pulls is just instinct. We’re primates, after all.

The challenge in riding is humans and horses have very different instincts. It’s hard for us to Take a Hint. It doesn’t help that good riders make it look deceptively easy. If you’re looking for immediate gratification, get a dirt bike. A lifelong relationship with a horse is a work of art. Riding horses didn’t start with cowboys, it’s been studied for centuries. For some of us, this hook horses have in us has been magical. The idea of working with a horse out beyond the truth of predators and prey is an amazing, addictive mission. The art of understanding and communicating with horses is a lifelong vocation without a final stop. If you do it right.

Do you need riding lessons? Nope.

But maybe you had a moment like I did. Things came apart. I made it worse, but my horse showed me grace that I probably didn’t deserve. It’s humbling, it’s impossible to look away. In that moment, we get called to horses in a way that is hard to explain. We want to be the best we can be because it’s what we see in them, but the words sound trivial as we say them. We want to ride the inside of a horse. They have been part of our dream forever, but now there’s a favor we are obliged to return. And we fall in love with horses all over again. But real this time; accountably real.

…

Anna Blake for Relaxed & Forward

Want more? Visit The Relaxed & Forward Barn School to see our class schedule, online courses and virtual clinics available on a revolving basis on Calming Signals, Affirmative Training, and More.

Or go to AnnaBlake.com to find out more, book a live consultation or lesson, subscribe for email delivery of this blog, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses. Join us in The Barn, our online training group with video sharing, audio blogs, live chats with Anna, and so much more.

Working with riders of any discipline and horses of any breed, Anna believes affirmative dressage training principals build a relaxed & forward foundation that crosses over all riding disciplines in the same way that the understanding Calming Signals benefits all equine communication.

The post Do You Need Riding Lessons? appeared first on Anna Blake.

Affirmative Training: Can You Take a Hint?

 

It’s a story that I’ve heard quite a few times. You’ve heard it too. The horse was getting a little worse all the time and the rider was trying to get him fixed. When the gelding got fussy in his face, the rider tried to hold his head steady by using pressure on the reins, a choice that means something else to horses. A horse might take it as a halt command, or just feel the metal-on-bone pain. Get the spurs, the horse isn’t forward. Now the rider is asking the horse to stop with her reins and go forward with her spurs, and simultaneously contradicting herself. And the conversation accelerates from there to a vicious cycle of fear on both sides. It doesn’t matter what you thought. Horses have a hardwired fear of being constrained or having their movement restricted.

Hardwire is another word for instinct, an inborn behavior that is a response to environmental stimuli. If you stumble, it’s an instinct to try to catch yourself. You don’t have a chat in the frontal lobe about it, your nervous system defends your life for you. Yay, nervous system. An innate instinct to survive is something to be grateful for. Except… when a horse has a hardwired response that the rider doesn’t like. Up until now, both horse and rider are reacting to stimuli. They are defending their lives against each other. That isn’t a problem, it’s a feature. All is right with the world, even if you don’t like it.

Should we be able to alter our instincts? Sure, here is an experiment to try. Put your hands in your pockets and do a face plant. If you are worried about your nose, then fall backward or sideways, but your goal is to land like a tomato. Tomatoes aren’t burdened with instinct.

About now, the rider looks for more leverage with her gelding, mental or physical, because she wants to ride. It might be a stronger bit, or a tie-down because the gelding is starting to rear. If he can’t go forward, he’ll go up. The gelding is also getting spooky and out in the pen, harder to catch. Things are headed the wrong way, the rider knows it isn’t working, so then she puts the horse in training with someone who can help the horse behave. Again, asking for help is a good idea, and rather than listening to more lousy railbird advice, this rider hires a pro.

She might pick a dominant trainer whose idea of training is to something near learned helplessness. This trainer can out-threaten the horse into shutting down, forcing the gelding to submit to pain. He looks like a pushbutton horse now. It’s the last stop before death, but he’s only playing dead. Yay. But haven’t we heard this one too often; isn’t it too easy to wring hands and shake heads? Let’s say this rider found a kind compassionate trainer. Someone who understands how horses think and works on trust with the gelding. In a short time, he’s soft and calm. His ears are curious, he transitions into gaits without tension. And his eyes, why didn’t you notice his eyes before? His eyes are soft, and they take your breath away. You remember why you fell in love with horses. Aren’t trainers wonderful?

In either case, the rider writes the trainer a check and the horse is back working with you. In either case, the gelding’s behavior changed and now it’s up to the rider to carry on. What that means is you must ride like your trainer did if you expect the gelding to give you the answer they got. Sure enough, the gelding starts to rebel within a week or two. Or maybe he’s just returning to normal. The rider most get more aggressive or more sensitive, like either of those options is easy. You blame the trainer. All that money and the horse isn’t any different at all. Aren’t trainers the worst?

As a trainer who’s heard plenty about what horrible or saintly people trainers are, can I ask a question? Are you a tomato? Is your horse? It’s a serious question. We get so focused on fixing horses, prioritizing training as the ultimate solution to solve problems. Training is the holy grail for tomatoes, that’s for sure. Nobody does a ground tie like a tomato.

It’s a bit more complicated for those of us with instinct and now the gelding is tossing his head again, as a horse must. And the rider is pulling on his face, as a primate will.

Stop. It was never meant to be a training problem. It was always a conversation. He said, with crystal clarity, that pulling on the reins hurt his mouth. Or if you ride bitless, he said the pressure on his nose was confining. Or he lost confidence, not feeling safe in the environment. It could be anything, but he is responding to stimuli and he hasn’t panicked yet. Good boy for speaking up and giving the rider a chance to help. Yes, I just praised the gelding for tossing his head. He’s asking for help, nothing more diabolical than that. Who was it that needed to work with a trainer?

The rider could take a hint, the rider could choose to hold neutral thoughts. No judgment, just ears. Here is the real question to ask: What if the gelding isn’t wrong? What if we trust his intelligence, even if he’s saying something we don’t want to hear? And then, what if we were a good sport about it? That would be a conversation with a resolution in sight, with both you and your horse’s instinct in a ready position. Right as they should be.

If we respond rather than react, the horse is affirmed by the rider listening and helping. The result is a more confident horse: less spooking and more willingness to give the rider the benefit of the doubt. Now the horse looks for understanding rather than punishment. His body is relaxed and more balanced, more likely to stay sound. A relaxed horse might spook at something, but his back is softer to start so instead of a full defensive panic, it feels like a bounce.

Then the rider has more confidence, her legs don’t do the thigh-master impression, she is slower to react. No panic. The gelding’s eye gets round and soft because he isn’t in pain and he feels safe. The rider has an unconscious smile because she is sitting in her favorite place in the world. Instinct still feeds a vicious circle, but this time a vicious circle of trust and affirmation. And the two of you have to get used to being beautiful together.

 

Anna Blake for Relaxed & Forward 

Want more? Visit annablake.com to find over a thousand archived blogs, purchase books, schedule a live consultation or lesson, subscribe for email delivery of this blog, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses. The Barn, our online training group with video sharing, audio blogs, live-chats with Anna, and the most supportive group of like-minded horsepeople anywhere. Courses and virtual clinics are taught at The Barn School, where I host our infamous Happy Hour. Affirmative training is the fine art of saying yes.

Working with riders of any discipline and horses of any breed, Anna believes affirmative dressage training principals build a relaxed & forward foundation that crosses over all riding disciplines in the same way that the understanding Calming Signals benefits all equine communication.

The post Affirmative Training: Can You Take a Hint? appeared first on Anna Blake.

How a Legend is Born

What is it about horses? I think I might have drawn them on cave walls at the beginning of time, already a legend to deserve the honor. Horses have been with us ever since, our lives depending on them much more than they needed us. Nothing about that has changed. We are hooked and we can’t imagine another way.

Each horse story begins the same. They are born, sired by a famous stallion or one owned by a neighbor. Every dam spent eleven months giving them life and on the first day, he could run. Babies are bright and curious and a promise of every good thing. Foals have near-infinite potential, our dreams in plain sight. They have not done the hard work worthy of a legend yet, but we can’t look away. We act with serious gravity or we smile so wide we show our molars, but we’re theirs. We love his eyes, we think his coat is the richest color, his canter takes our breath away. If he sniffs our hand, we think he’s formed a bond with us, we are that special. In the beginning, our love is all about how we feel, all romantic and pretty.

Some of the stories we tell about horses make us the hero because our ego lets us think we’re rescuing them. Other times we get frustrated and think horses owe us something as if they know what a feed bill looks like. We ask for a simple thing like a trail ride without understanding nothing is simple for a horse with a lion on his back, especially one who doesn’t know she’s a lion. Or we micromanage them, smothering their voice in favor of our own. We train by repeating things until we bore them into a stupor. We decide they have a wonderful life because of our effort for them. We stifle their wildness with affection, teasing them when it flatters us. They tell us in the only language they have that they are in pain, but we discipline them or even worse, we think they are being funny or sweet when their calming signals get extreme. We do it in the name of love, even when we can’t see around our big feelings.

A few thousand dollars into it, we might start to wonder if our horse is living up to his end of the bargain. If you think that horse should be beholden in some way, or even domesticated, you’re wrong about that. Horses are horses. Nothing more. And this is the first sign of things improving.

It can be hard for a horse to get a word in edgewise. Some wait as long as they can and some find a way to be undeniable, but it will happen. In the beginning, we call the incident bad. A nebulous lameness appears, or we find out that his “smile” is ulcer pain. We come off and get hurt or he scares us. It’s only common sense to think twice when each of his twelve-hundred pounds lets you know things aren’t okay.

Does it feel like a betrayal? That kind of deception lives in human brains, not theirs. It isn’t obvious then, but the best day ever is when the Valentine’s heart with paper lace gets torn up. It’s the day we get called out and our horse-crazy girl notions face reality.

Horses have a real chance to shine when things go wrong. The best lessons from horses start when we realize that it’s always been them. For all our ignorance, good intentions, and misunderstandings, we haven’t ruined anything. Through the pain and fear, we didn’t quit. At some point, we find courage and compassion for him that dwarfs our puny emotions. We grow to fit our horses, but we don’t notice because finally, miraculously, it’s not about us.

Life happens. Injuries, loss, change, and rebirth. Crisp air on spring mornings; you learned to love that from him. The color of the sunset on his flank, the precious quality of each day marked by his reflection. Some days you risk everything you have for his welfare and he answers with a breath, leaving you feeling lucky beyond all reason. He gets the care you don’t give yourself because it’s only fair. He has become the best part of you.

Somewhere along the way, we remember horses are mortal. Our eyes deny it before our brain adds the sum of the truth. The old lameness returns. His diet gets complicated. Muscles become small and soft. He is ten or he is thirty, but it feels unfair. However long we have together is not enough because boundaries have blurred. There is no way to tell his heartbeat from your own. For all that we have given, we have one more gift and it will be the victory of love over fear. We’ll give him the best farewell we can muster. Surviving will take all the courage learned from him, and maybe that’s a fair trade.

There will be a horrible instant of doubt. A moment when his breath stops, and you think that you will never rest your cheek against his warm neck again. It feels so final. Some of us will fall silent not having enough air to cry and some of us will howl until our lungs are raw. Maybe you’ll feel devastated and relieved for his pain and then guilty for that. You may judge yourself harshly, begrudging how long it took to get it right, but that isn’t how a horse thinks. He isn’t burdened with judgment, just memory. For him, nothing erases the ground you covered together. See it through his eyes.

What is it about horses? May we always be in awe. It must be their heart that minimizes pain and holds so much resilience and so much try. How many times have we started over together? A horse’s heart is not located in his chest at all; his bold beautiful body is a small thing encompassed within his heart. If we do our job well, we come to understand that when we’ve sitting on his back or standing at his shoulder, the bubble we think we’ve constructed, the training success that we’ve had, is really nothing we’ve done at all. It’s when he’s gone that we learn the true space he has taken in our lives; when we understand in hindsight all that we gained along the way. It’s always been about this horse.

Then a day comes, soon I hope, that he will be lighter to carry. He’ll perch on your small shoulder as you used to perch on his broad one. He’ll whisper in your ear, “I am your legend.”

…

Anna Blake for Relaxed & Forward 

Want more? Visit annablake.com to find over a thousand archived blogs, purchase books, schedule a live consultation or lesson, subscribe for email delivery of this blog, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses. The Barn, our online training group with video sharing, audio blogs, live-chats with Anna, and the most supportive group of like-minded horsepeople anywhere. Courses and virtual clinics are taught at The Barn School, where I host our infamous Happy Hour. Affirmative training is the fine art of saying yes.

 

The post How a Legend is Born appeared first on Anna Blake.

How to See It Like a Horse

My friend was tracing her Arabian’s family tree. She’d driven north of Denver to see her horse’s sire and ran into a pathetic spotted colt that somehow reminded her of me. I was a self-employed artist barely making my bills, my relationship was failing, and I had a list of personal quirks that were entirely noticeable. What I didn’t have was a horse, not since leaving home a few years before. I compare not having a horse to living in a state of constant PMS. My friend probably had her reasons.

The colt was six months old, covered with manure, and scared enough that the whites of his eyes were all you could see. He was untouchable, I had no place to keep him, and no idea what it would cost, but I’d been stricken with a severe case of tunnel vision. Blind but for a broomtail colt. I came back a week later, determined to talk the rancher down in price. After two hours of active haggling, I paid full price. He could have doubled the price; he certainly read desperation in my bluff. At the last minute, he did offer to deliver the colt, a detail that hadn’t occurred to me. Not within my range of vision. The rancher was probably relieved to be rid of the two of us.

Science tells us that predators generally have front-facing eyes for depth perception to aid in hunting, but I think our eyes are close together to aid us with our tunnel vision. We are famous for missing the big picture.

The colt and I discovered boarding barns. I scrutinized his every movement, growth spurt, and health concern, managing to have tunnel vision about a million life-destroying possibilities. Once we started training in earnest when I could also focus just as fanatically on what “we” wanted to learn. Tunnel vision had served me well in my career.  Adding a bit of perfectionism into the mix, I’d become a force to be reckoned with, meeting work and creative goals and moving forward with my life. You know what’s coming, don’t you?

In the first year of riding my colt, I came off five times. Once a concussion and another time, a broken elbow. Looking back on it, I think it was really a vision issue to blame for all the unplanned dismounts. My horse had an issue with how I saw things.

The high side of coming off a horse so consistently is that it expands your vision to include a wider spectrum, including fear and anxiety and dread. Goodbye, tunnel vision. Hello, rainbow anxiety. Things get real because now you’re on level footing with a thousand-pound flight animal. You see most everything as a life and death threat. It’s who horses are and how they survive. Now you have an intimate understanding of that; you’re becoming more like your horse. If you are in the game for the long run, you see anxiety as an advantage.

What I know now is that training is only as successful as we are able to understand the horse’s perspective. 

An example: At some point, we were told that if a horse is afraid of something, we should march them up to the scary thing and make them look at it. It usually involved a tussle, and you know the rule, his nose must touch it, so you two just have to get through a sea of anxiety to get there. At least the two of you were working together on resisting the other. One other detail: Horses can’t see directly in front of their face. It’s a blind spot. Although horses have a 350° range of vision, most of it is side vision. That’s huge, humans only have about 120°, just in front. The thing we think of as being like peripheral vision is their strong suit. In other words, horses are designed to see the big picture but miss the tunnel vision view.

Are we getting a bit unstuck between literal vision and metaphor? Welcome to horse training. We have a difference in perspective from horses, but that word perspective has two meanings. It’s the literal way we see a thing in relation to other things, and it also means a point of view, meaning a way of thinking or understanding. That’s where the confusion lies for both horses and humans, each side being sometimes too literal and sometimes lost in confusion about what is real.

Think about that. The horse literally doesn’t see what we see, but also doesn’t live by the same rules we do. They resolve anxiety by moving away, while we stand and insist on having our way. So many things we want to train involve horses surrendering their flight instinct. Seeing cleaning hooves from that perspective might give us a better understanding of what we are asking, and more patience waiting for their answer. Once we understand it’s a question of trust, maybe we can balance that with our tunnel vision about the importance of a possible pebble. Maybe a day comes when your horse doesn’t want to give you his hoof, and rather than thinking you have a training problem, you understand that he is telling you something about how he feels. Trust is when we both learn something, after all.

What if we give up our high ground and dominant thinking and literally saw things their way? What would we gain? It means negotiating is possible, the heart of affirmative training beats with strength and compassion. But we are treated to a view that’s more interesting, as well. What happens when we soften our view, see with our own peripheral vision? Try it for a week. Hear the wind in the trees, see the weather come on the clouds overhead, smell the scent of season change in the air. Become alive in the moment through your senses and know that situational awareness is the part of your brain you can share with your horse. In this place, you truly learn from each other. Saying “Yes!” is all you need. In this place, you come closest to knowing each other.

Years pass in a heartbeat and one day out of the corner of your eye you don’t see a scared colt. Instead, you see the confident eye of the best friend you ever had.

…

Rest in Peace, Grandfather Horse. Gone four years. Never a moment out of view.

…

Anna Blake for Relaxed & Forward 

Want more? Visit annablake.com to find over a thousand archived blogs, purchase books, schedule a live consultation or lesson, subscribe for email delivery of this blog, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses. The Barn, our online training group with video sharing, audio blogs, live-chats with Anna, and the most supportive group of like-minded horsepeople anywhere. Courses and virtual clinics are taught at The Barn School, where I host our infamous Happy Hour. Affirmative training is the fine art of saying yes.

The post How to See It Like a Horse appeared first on Anna Blake.

The Problem with Humility

I’ve gotten sour on a word. Why does it matter? Words are how we understand each other but some words get borrowed as code words for something else. Sometimes they turn into monsters and sometimes they get stuck between your teeth like a raspberry seed. Words impact how we feel, trickle down to how we act, and eventually, we become something we were never meant to be.

When I was a little girl, I quit the Brownies because they were sissies. I didn’t have braids because my mother hacked my hair into a pixie cut with an unintentional asymmetry. It seemed the only way to keep spider webs, mud, and hay out of her house. Once a week I was wrangled into a dress for church, told how to sit, (ankles crossed,) how to be a good girl, (smile pretty,) and how to behave, (don’t say a word.) I’m not the only one who disappointed my elders, am I?

Horse-crazy girls weren’t the sort for sitting still for long. We didn’t fit that good girl mold but we weren’t bad girls either. We did our homework and babysat to buy hay. We were strong readers and did our chores. We are mostly introverts. Some of us preferred the company of dogs to people. Some of us still do.

Along the way, we got the message that even if we got a straight-A report card, we shouldn’t brag. Doing a good job was expected, but never really celebrated, as if it was almost rude to succeed. We shouldn’t like competition because if we won, it meant someone else lost, as if there was a limited number of rewards and we should leave them for others. We learned to keep our victories to ourselves because it would be unsightly to be proud. Being a good girl meant being less, doing less, saying less. Some of us didn’t fit that mold but we still knew being sideways from it wasn’t quite right either.

Meanwhile, boys were going nuts, howling, and doing leaping chest-bumps because one of them caught a ball. Oops. Sarcasm is not a good-girl trait either.

We grew into women who became teachers, health care workers, mothers, veterans, and anything else we set our minds to, not that we bragged. We worked a career and kept a home for our family, and sometimes an extended family. We’re smart and thrifty. Funny and brave. We’re relentless and exhausted and we still think we can do better. We are the original first responders.

On top of all that, we manage to have horses. Add to our amazing ordinary skills, those of throwing bales, bandaging injuries, and building fence. We climb back on when we get bucked off. We cheer our friends on and we don’t ask for help when we should. We’ve seen more than our share of blood and death but we’re not quitters.

The crazy part is that we’ve done it so long that it seems normal. If someone does compliment us, we shrug it off. It’s just our job to make the world run smoothly, even during a pandemic. If anything, we apologize that the pie isn’t homemade. We undervalue the things we accomplish. We’ve been taught humility is a good thing.

hu·mil·i·ty /(h)yo͞oˈmilədē/ noun/ a modest or low view of one’s own importance; humbleness. -Oxford Dictionary

Yes, the world has plenty of arrogant egotistical know-it-all elitist asshats who pontificate endlessly about their own achievements. None of us want to be mistaken for a blowhard. Being forced to listen to them makes us all scurry out to the barn to muck. Does the sort of person who drives us to think manure is a better alternative also work to encourage us, by their example, to sell ourselves short? Do we give them credence by politely excusing ourselves from the conversation?

Why is a horse trainer so wrapped up in this self-inflicted debate about a word? Because of horses, naturally. They are the ultimate in reading our intentions. Horses read bossy dominance and red-hot ego in an instant. Frankly, I don’t work with that sort of horseperson. It isn’t a decision on my part, they don’t ask me.

Most of my clients think it’s honorable to give the horse all the credit for a good ride and take all the blame for a hard ride. It’s a barn definition of humility. A few other things I notice about my clients: whether their horses are high-dollar beauties or rescues, well trained or feral, brilliant young horses or crippled old campaigners, they are concerned for their horse’s wellbeing first. They don’t mention past achievements and you might think they’re beginners, but they have invested in the very best for their horses in every situation. They admit that they are lifetime students of the horse, as I am, and but they have a tendency to forget how far they’ve come. As if a small stumble in the present could negate all the hard work in the past. As if horses don’t know the truth of us.

We let ourselves have vulnerable conversations about confidence, confessing our weaknesses, but almost never sing our own praises. For all we’ve done with our horses to instill some level of confidence in them, we deny our own confidence for fear we’ve confused it with arrogance.

How do horses read humility? Do we seem inconsistent, doubting ourselves even as we ask for their trust? Do we only pretend to have the strength to lead or are we coyly denying the truth of who we are?

This is what I know. It’s a horse trainers’ job to see the big picture. We understand the desire of the person to learn quickly for their horse. We consider the past, with an affirmation about the future. We lay down tunnel vision of what’s being trained because we know that horses must be keenly aware of the entire dimension of their environment. And we aspire to understand the big picture for our clients, too.

I’m overwhelmed with the commitment of my clients to do the right thing. The blind love they have for their horses. The ever-present compulsion to look at the tiny part not quite right that overshadows any previous success. I am in awe of the work my clients are doing improving the lives of their horses. I think the best word I know for how I feel about the work they take on is respect.

re·spect /rəˈspekt/ noun 1. a feeling of deep admiration for someone or something elicited by their abilities, qualities, or achievements. -Oxford Dictionary

If I was the Word-God, (see me as an old man with a long beard who should really be wearing a shirt,) I would send a bolt of lightning from my slightly pudgy fingertip to burn the word humility from your mental vocabulary. I’d replace it with words like courageous, confident, and dynamic. These words better define you because they are truthful.

…

Anna Blake for Relaxed & Forward 

Want more? Visit annablake.com to find over a thousand archived blogs, purchase books, schedule a live consultation or lesson, subscribe for email delivery of this blog, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses. The Barn, our online training group with video sharing, audio blogs, live-chats with Anna, and the most supportive group of like-minded horsepeople anywhere. Courses and virtual clinics are taught at The Barn School, where I host our infamous Happy Hour. Affirmative training is the fine art of saying yes.

The post The Problem with Humility appeared first on Anna Blake.

Poetry Out Loud: Impulsion

 

Poetry Impulsion

It’s not unusual to feel still

air rush over your cheeks and

past your ears. It’s you moving

forward in a bold waltz rhythm

that’s less domesticated than dance.

It’s perfectly normal to release

the earth and be held by intention

and hoof beats and a lesser degree

of gravity than what roots docile

human feet to mud and grass.

It’s the ordinary excellence of a

woman and a horse. Ribs expand as

hips surrender to the rolling impulsion,

closing your eyes just long enough

to feel the power in letting go.

The post Poetry Out Loud: Impulsion appeared first on Anna Blake.