Anna Blake's Blog, page 32

Photo & Poem: Rich

 

Our family farm was leased from the man

who owned the car dealership in town. Once

or twice a year, he came up our driveway in

the latest model, looking important wearing

pressed trousers and a tie, to drink black

coffee with my father. They talked about

crop prices on the farm report and cursed

thunderstorms at harvest time. In the winter

the man and his family went to vacation in

Florida, sometimes bringing us oranges and

one year a pineapple that made our tongues

raw. Heady fruit for proud farmers who ate

only what they could grow. Us kids were

told to stand and say, “Thank you, Sir.” My

parents called the man Rich. I was half-grown

before I understood it was his real name, not

just that sort of fancy man my father bitterly

resented, especially after we lost the farm and

moved to town, where grocery stores sold pink

grapefruit and tangerines the whole year-round.

…

Anna Blake at Infinity Farm

Want more from this horse trainer who writes poems? Join us at The Barn, our online training group with video sharing, audio blogs, live chats with Anna, and so much more. Or go to annablake.com to subscribe for email delivery of this blog, see the Clinic Schedule, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses.

The post Photo & Poem: Rich appeared first on Anna Blake.

Calming Signals: How to Show Love

“How do you show your love for horses, then?” A clinic participant asked me at the end of a long day of listening to each horse tell us that we stood too close, that we were too loud, that we tried too hard. Horses are dependably honest and listening to their calming signals is not always flattering. After ten or twelve horses consistently looking away, shallow throat breathing, and shutting down, they made us uncomfortable enough to eventually believe them and oblige by taking some steps back. Everyone could see it.

As we get a bit farther from them, we’re rewarded to see a release of anxiety. We know that licking and chewing is a good thing. It means the horse is returning to his parasympathetic/restorative system. His eyes go softer, his neck longer, a few yawns, even better. For the horse who shows anxiety by shutting down, we might see his eyes come back to life, he might shake his head or stretch his neck out. Seeing a horse visibly relax is a beautiful thing, and for those of us working with troubled horses, it might be the turning point we’ve been seeking. But how could we be the stressor? How could we cause them to move toward their sympathetic/ flight, fight, or freeze mode when we just want to be close?

“How do you show your love for horses, then?” she asked, with real frustration in her voice. I think I answered by reminding her that most professional horse trainers don’t write love poems to horses. Poems with calming signals in them, egads.

Still, her question has stuck with me all year. Why is it so important to show love to horses? We have always needed horses more than they have needed us. We’ve railed against those who use horses harshly, while we cling to them with a girlish passion, perhaps edging on desperation. We all cheer when a country bans clipping whiskers, but when it comes to mauling their muzzles, we can’t keep our hands to ourselves. We coo and cajole, and literally bribe them, while taking every flick of the ear personally. We give them power they don’t ask for or want. Our love prolongs their suffering in old age. We think we are the center of their world because they are the center of ours. Humans are a bit too needy with horses and if you pay attention, it makes horses uncomfortable.

Still, we obsess over our love for them. We need a self-help book like Horses are from Mars, Women are from Teen-Angst Venus. I know I’m treading on toes here, but it’s not like love has been perfect for all of us. Love can be fickle, gone in a day. We cause great pain for others in the name of love. We almost brag about having a broken heart, caught in the romance of drama. I understand the ideal of love but also know that many of us sought horses when human love failed us. No wonder horses seize up a bit at our grasping.

But what can we do? We’re besotted girls, giggling with each other about this eternal “pony phase,” as if loving horses takes a rare sensibility. We show our love by taking good physical care of our horses; vet care, tack that fits, and a few hundred dollars of extras; supplements, chiropractic, bodywork. And horses continue to give us calming signals. We pride ourselves in putting their needs above our desires. We complain when our horse wants to graze (a misunderstood calming signal) instead of stare into our eyes, then cheer their eventual release, maybe a lick and chew, but is it possible to be with a horse and not create that anxiety in the first place?

What would we have to do to change ourselves to be less of a threat to horses? How often do horses think we are afraid of trailers? Do we scare horses with our worry about dressing a wound? Does our love feel like a ball and chain? How often does our anxiety about life trickle down to our horses?

I can be operatically emotional about horses; I just don’t share that with them. My own emotions would get in the way of much of the work I do with horses and cloud my perceptions, and frankly, horses are much more interesting than my feelings. Maybe the real question is can we use our love for horses to change ourselves for them?

Horses tell me that breath is more soothing than chatter. That rhythmic movement is more calming than standing still. That staying with them mentally is the consistency that builds trust. They like space to stand and time to think. And if we are affirmative, their confidence will grow. If we let the air be quiet, they will volunteer. Like magic, they will gravitate to us freely if we trust them enough to give them liberty.

The more quiet time I spend with horses pondering this question of love, the more I wonder if they might not have something better. Human words may not grasp the full reality, but I watch them standing belly to belly eating, craving horseplay and napping through fences with each other. Standing head to tail, swishing flies in the summer, sharing body heat in the winter, fearing nothing but separation. What if they have something even better than love? Part belonging and part acceptance, regardless of bloodlines or colors or age, with shared safety for all and the goal of peace. It isn’t an emotion but a way of life together. If we understood horses better, we might spend less time trying to make them over in our image.

…

There is a passion for horses that is the very center of my life. Horses have given me so much that it would be the height of selfishness to ask for one more thing, so no, I don’t need or want their love, if there even is such a thing. Having horses in my life is gift enough. I’m grateful beyond all.

Here is a love poem about calming signals from a besotted but serious horse trainer ~with every best wish for horses, and peace for us humans.

Did he want to be invisible? As still

as wood, his head holds solitude in

the corner. This bay gelding does not

have a lightning bolt blaze on his face

or tall white stockings that pull my eye.

His coat the color of honey in tea, his

mane and tail a shade darker. He is

elegance in understatement. Close enough

to touch, I’m greedy to feel his warmth, to

run my fingers though the texture of his

mane. But I stand away. His body is not

mine. My eye travels the flawless arc from

his back, along his neck, slowing at his poll,

he’s aware of all that I want. Gazing finally

on his eye, cautiously on guard. So still,

so unmoving, and so exquisitely profound in

his silence, that I exhale my jangling desire

to show him courtesy. Let the air hang in

peace. I will wait for the acknowledgment

that is his to give, not mine to take.

-From Horse Prayers

…

Anna Blake at Infinity Farm

Want more? Join us at The Barn, our online training group with video sharing, audio blogs, live chats with Anna, and so much more. Or go to annablake.com to subscribe for email delivery of this blog, see the Clinic Schedule, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses.

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 Calming Signals: How to Show Love appeared first on Anna Blake.

Photo & Poem: Girl-Cousin

Seems every farm family had one in a generation;

a distant misfit girl-cousin who read too much or

wore men’s jeans or hated to cook. As soon as she

could, she traveled away to Portland to work in a

library or to Tucson to be an artist. The family only

whispered her name then, kitchen gossip that nothing

was good enough for her. That she stopped going to

church. That she never had kids and probably couldn’t.

They said she fell off the face of the earth, as if it was

a fatal misstep but she just took herself out of bounds

from their small flat place, bringing only what could

not be escaped. Moving from one landing restless to

the next, until she found rest where the soil under her

feet felt welcoming at midnight and she could write

her own rules with black chalk on a night sky. Not

afraid of stillness, never once orphaned from the land.

…

Anna Blake at Infinity Farm

Want more from this horse trainer who writes poems? Join us at The Barn, our online training group with video sharing, audio blogs, live chats with Anna, and so much more. Or go to annablake.com to subscribe for email delivery of this blog, see the Clinic Schedule, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses.

The post Photo & Poem: Girl-Cousin appeared first on Anna Blake.

In Training to Be a Late Bloomer

He was a bona fide dressage master. We were lucky to have him come for a clinic. It was the early 90s and I was signed up for three rides at $225 each. More than I’d spent on my horse and I knew the clinic would change my life. The participants joined him for dinner the night before the clinic started. Aware of his training resume and humbled by his accent, when he stood to address us, we were awestruck. Here’s where it got a bit mucky. Granted, I’ve always been hard of hearing, and he did have a thick accent, but I swear he told us it was too late for us. He spoke in old-world romantic terms about riding, saying to really excel you had to have been riding advanced horses as a teen, younger if possible. Did he actually have to nerve to stand in front of a bunch of fanatic women, most of us still in our 30s, and tell us we were too old to learn?

It’s a testament to good manners and low self-esteem that the dressage master survived dinner. If I had to defend him, he probably meant that none of us would be riding in the Olympics. That didn’t come as a shock to us. We rode Appaloosas and Morgans and draft crosses. We came in odd shapes. We’d all had the experience of being underestimated; we weren’t quitters. And he was wrong. I learned a lot that clinic; things that still guide me today.

The horse world is constantly changing. More often riders come to horses later in life now, after responsibilities of family and career have lightened. Mostly women, she approaches horses with the passion of a twelve-year-old girl but with one huge improvement. She has her own checking account. There’s a sweet notion that every horse should be loved by a young girl. As someone who babysat to buy hay, I think horses do better with people who have the same desire, as well as the money to keep them well.

Money isn’t the only advantage. A woman of a certain age has gained some skills. We’re good at listening and negotiating. We understand what a commitment means and are willing to ask for help when we need it. Domination isn’t our first choice, a trait that puts us at the head of the line right there, if you ask horses. Some of us have held ourselves together when our toddlers are screaming on the floor of the grocery store or had to “cry about it later” when faced with overwhelming challenges that we still had to march our way through. And some of us are lucky enough to be past hormonal drama.

Maturity has hundreds of benefits in the horse world, but here is the problem. Most novice mid-life riders have wanted horses forever. We’ve been diminished for loving animals; told we’d grow out of this girlish phase but we were right about animals then and we’re right now. So, we hold a bit of a grudge. It was the childhood dream never given up on. This group of riders has (by now) the hard-cooked passion of a twelve-year-old girl mixed with the near belligerent stubbornness of a woman who knows what she wants. Best of all, this group is proving a certain dressage master wrong. It ends up that this is the best recipe for a rider who not only wants to do better for her horse but is capable of learning and doing amazing feats of horsemanship.

The downside is something I hear often; the sense that because of the late start, they must make up for lost time. Others rode as kids and they feel they just can’t catch up. That coming to riding later in life, being a late bloomer, is a disability. It makes me smile. Half of my clients are life-long horsewomen who are trying to unlearn old-school methods that have repeatedly failed their horses. Relearning is much more challenging than first time learning, but that’s okay. They aren’t quitters either.

The thing we all have in common is that we all know horses who were started too young and pushed too hard. Thoroughbreds who die on the track before they’re three. Performance horses competing at high levels before they are mature, retiring by the time they’re ten. Horses for whom harsh training was a trust-damaging assault. Some physically break down and for some it’s mental, but we’re all about the potential in young horses. Our dreams land crushingly hard on fillies and colts.

How can youth be the pinnacle of anything? Why do we think horses who still have their baby teeth should shoulder skills beyond their years? And why do we sell ourselves short for being late bloomers?

If you are a novice rider, may I remind you that contrary to appearances, working with horses was never meant to be a race over in minutes. We should all consider ourselves endurance riders, in it for the long ride. There is always a starting line, but there is no finish line. There are plenty of masters of horsemanship who believe, at sixty or seventy, that they are starting to make real progress in understanding horses. Plenty of experienced riders totally undone by the challenge of a new horse so totally different than others. The art of being with horses is to make yourself brand new every single day, every single horse.

It’s human to want to think that others have all the advantages, but each horse will tell you they are special. We’re free to plan whatever we want but we live in a world beyond control. We are at the mercy of unforeseen circumstances when creativity can be a better aid than book-learning. Even then, there are things we do control. We could remember our own value, use the skills experience has given us, and trust that things will work out because we have lived long enough to know that’s true.

So, you will start right where you are, accepting your horse right where he is. You aren’t late, and frankly, the longer you take, the better for your horse. Besides, you can’t lose. You are with a horse, you get to muck and groom and call the vet. You are living the dream every single day. No one has more.

Is my life what I expected all those years ago at dinner? No, it’s even better. I’m on the highest learning curve of my life. Right now, I’m training an eighteen-month-old mule. She is smarter and quicker than me, with hormones blossoming and the maturity of that toddler in the grocery store. Beware, young one. I am sixty-five, with the confidence to listen to you and the fortitude to do the right thing. I have a lifetime of experience and I study current information on equine brain science. I know you’re impatient, but we’ll do this at my speed. We’ll go slow because I’m training you to be a late bloomer.

…

Anna Blake at Infinity Farm

Want more? Join us at The Barn, our online training group with video sharing, audio blogs, live chats with Anna, and so much more. Or go to annablake.com to subscribe for email delivery of this blog, see the Clinic Schedule, or ask a question.

Anna’s latest book, Going Steady: More Relationship Advice from Your Horse, is now available everywhere.

Working with riders of any discipline and horses of any breed, Anna believes 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 In Training to Be a Late Bloomer appeared first on Anna Blake.

Training to Be a Late Bloomer

He was a bona fide dressage master. We were lucky to have him come for a clinic. It was the early 90s and I was signed up for three rides at $225 each. More than I’d spent on my horse and I knew the clinic would change my life. The participants joined him for dinner the night before the clinic started. Aware of his training resume and humbled by his accent, when he stood to address us, we were awestruck. Here’s where it got a bit mucky. Granted, I’ve always been hard of hearing, and he did have a thick accent, but I swear he told us it was too late for us. He spoke in old-world romantic terms about riding, saying to really excel you had to have been riding advanced horses as a teen, younger if possible. Did he actually have to nerve to stand in front of a bunch of fanatic women, most of us still in our 30s, and tell us we were too old to learn?

It’s a testament to good manners and low self-esteem that the dressage master survived dinner. If I had to defend him, he probably meant that none of us would be riding in the Olympics. That didn’t come as a shock to us. We rode Appaloosas and Morgans and draft crosses. We came in odd shapes. We’d all had the experience of being underestimated; we weren’t quitters. And he was wrong. I learned a lot that clinic; things that still guide me today.

The horse world is constantly changing. More often riders come to horses later in life now, after responsibilities of family and career have lightened. Mostly women, she approaches horses with the passion of a twelve-year-old girl but with one huge improvement. She has her own checking account. There’s a sweet notion that every horse should be loved by a young girl. As someone who babysat to buy hay, I think horses do better with people who have the same desire, as well as the money to keep them well.

Money isn’t the only advantage. A woman of a certain age has gained some skills. We’re good at listening and negotiating. We understand what a commitment means and are willing to ask for help when we need it. Domination isn’t our first choice, a trait that puts us at the head of the line right there, if you ask horses. Some of us have held ourselves together when our toddlers are screaming on the floor of the grocery store or had to “cry about it later” when faced with overwhelming challenges that we still had to march our way through. And some of us are lucky enough to be past hormonal drama.

Maturity has hundreds of benefits in the horse world, but here is the problem. Most novice mid-life riders have wanted horses forever. We’ve been diminished for loving animals; told we’d grow out of this girlish phase but we were right about animals then and we’re right now. So, we hold a bit of a grudge. It was the childhood dream never given up on. This group of riders has (by now) the hard-cooked passion of a twelve-year-old girl mixed with the near belligerent stubbornness of a woman who knows what she wants. Best of all, this group is proving a certain dressage master wrong. It ends up that this is the best recipe for a rider who not only wants to do better for her horse but is capable of learning and doing amazing feats of horsemanship.

The downside is something I hear often; the sense that because of the late start, they must make up for lost time. Others rode as kids and they feel they just can’t catch up. That coming to riding later in life, being a late bloomer, is a disability. It makes me smile. Half of my clients are life-long horsewomen who are trying to unlearn old-school methods that have repeatedly failed their horses. Relearning is much more challenging than first time learning, but that’s okay. They aren’t quitters either.

The thing we all have in common is that we all know horses who were started too young and pushed too hard. Thoroughbreds who die on the track before they’re three. Performance horses competing at high levels before they are mature, retiring by the time they’re ten. Horses for whom harsh training was a trust-damaging assault. Some physically break down and for some it’s mental, but we’re all about the potential in young horses. Our dreams land crushingly hard on fillies and colts.

How can youth be the pinnacle of anything? Why do we think horses who still have their baby teeth should shoulder skills beyond their years? And why do we sell ourselves short for being late bloomers?

If you are a novice rider, may I remind you that contrary to appearances, working with horses was never meant to be a race over in minutes. We should all consider ourselves endurance riders, in it for the long ride. There is always a starting line, but there is no finish line. There are plenty of masters of horsemanship who believe, at sixty or seventy, that they are starting to make real progress in understanding horses. Plenty of experienced riders totally undone by the challenge of a new horse so totally different than others. The art of being with horses is to make yourself brand new every single day, every single horse.

It’s human to want to think that others have all the advantages, but each horse will tell you they are special. We’re free to plan whatever we want but we live in a world beyond control. We are at the mercy of unforeseen circumstances when creativity can be a better aid than book-learning. Even then, there are things we do control. We could remember our own value, use the skills experience has given us, and trust that things will work out because we have lived long enough to know that’s true.

So, you will start right where you are, accepting your horse right where he is. You aren’t late, and frankly, the longer you take, the better for your horse. Besides, you can’t lose. You are with a horse, you get to muck and groom and call the vet. You are living the dream every single day. No one has more.

Is my life what I expected all those years ago at dinner? No, it’s even better. I’m on the highest learning curve of my life. Right now, I’m training an eighteen-month-old mule. She is smarter and quicker than me, with hormones blossoming and the maturity of that toddler in the grocery store. Beware, young one. I am sixty-five, with the confidence to listen to you and the fortitude to do the right thing. I have a lifetime of experience and I study current information on equine brain science. I know you’re impatient, but we’ll do this at my speed. We’ll go slow because I’m training you to be a late bloomer.

…

Anna Blake at Infinity Farm

Want more? Join us at The Barn, our online training group with video sharing, audio blogs, live chats with Anna, and so much more. Or go to annablake.com to subscribe for email delivery of this blog, see the Clinic Schedule, or ask a question.

Anna’s latest book, Going Steady: More Relationship Advice from Your Horse, is now available everywhere.

Working with riders of any discipline and horses of any breed, Anna believes 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 Training to Be a Late Bloomer appeared first on Anna Blake.

Photo & Poem: Waiting for the Vet

 

No days like the golden photos on the calendar from

the gas company, propane topped off at the first

frost as autumn surrendered with no fanfare. Early

storms left crusted snow frozen in mud, hoof-print

ruts that catch the toe of my boot, stumbling out late

to throw extra hay and put eyes on the herd because

I cannot lay down the fear, not of hooves crushing

my skull, but a horror much worse. Years have gone

but never the memory of a moonless midnight,

finding the old gelding down with no will to stand.

His breath shallow, eyes nearly closed and my black

dread helpless against the wind pushing harder to a

roar. Out in front of the shelter, kneeling low to be

close, pulling my glove to touch his cheek, please

please stay. No terror greater than checking my

watch again, pleading for headlights in the blizzard.

…

Anna Blake at Infinity Farm

Want more from this horse trainer who writes poems? Join us at The Barn, our online training group with video sharing, audio blogs, live chats with Anna, and so much more. Or go to annablake.com to subscribe for email delivery of this blog, see the Clinic Schedule, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses.

The post Photo & Poem: Waiting for the Vet appeared first on Anna Blake.

Life Coach: The Goat Version

It was a beautiful end-of-summer afternoon, just about feeding time. Cupid had been with us for almost a year by then. He was an elder foster horse having a great summer in that precious way that makes you quiet inside. Cupid never expected much or asked for special treatment. He’d been used hard and not by a little girl, so it took him a while to figure out where he was. He was a good eater, though, even if his body was failing, and he made a friend. Arthur, the goat, had a long history of liking decrepit Appaloosas and took to Cupid right away.

There was a time when Arthur was small and cute and extremely human-avoidant. My other goats came as bottle babies and followed me everywhere. Arthur arrived here at that awkward age when most young male goats get eaten, but not knowing his previous fate, he felt outraged at being kidnapped. With no previous handling, I was happy if he even looked at me. Just when we were making a bit of progress, a different old Appaloosa stood on his leg for a while. It was a serious break, but I managed to hoist him into the trailer and get to the vet, creating the illusion I could walk him on a lead.

Sure, he only used three legs and was probably in shock, but we walked through the vet clinic only tipping one table over. And his cast was heavy, Arthur was medicated by then, so I managed to get him home, too. He’s grown up now, bigger than our mini horse and obliged to no one. I have a hard-won way of getting him to move next to me. It isn’t pretty but it doesn’t involve a lead rope which is his cue to pull me to the ground.

Just to say, I have tried and mostly failed to train him any sense of fair play, if not polite social behavior, but I swear, if I hadn’t dated a wrestler in high school, I wouldn’t have survived.

That afternoon, I was walking Cupid in for the night, a rope loose around his neck, and we took baby steps so slow we rocked side to side as much as we went forward. If they made elder walkers for horses, I would have gotten him one to ease the way. Instead, we took our time. That’s when it happened. Something exploded between us and we were both knocked apart. Knees buckled. I saw a black and white flash. A cloven hoof managed to plant itself on my lame foot. It wasn’t the first time this goat had upended me but it was so quick that Cupid lost balance, too. I managed to hold just enough tension on the rope that Cupid could keep his footing, only because I was falling in the opposite direction. All of us, not a sound mover in the crowd, fumbling for balance, but Arthur stumbled on in his stiff-legged trot, racing for the bucket of soaked mush he knew I’d hidden under a tub somewhere. We were on the open prairie, for crying out loud, he could have missed us. He didn’t look back. Goats don’t apologize. Cupid and I felt like we were in a Roadrunner cartoon, if Roadrunner was fat, spotted, and moved more like a skid steer.

Even as I was wondering if my knee was sprained, I still believed, as I do now, that every dressage barn should have a goat as a reminder that control is futile.

Cupid was euthanized this fall; the world is less one old Appaloosa who was sweeter and better fed in retirement. Arthur mourned deeply for his friend, which is no surprise at all. They ate and slept and head-butted every day, Cupid the less enthusiastic of the pair. Goats require tolerance from those around them, but Arthur is not without compassion, even if only for himself. He still insists on having things to his liking and at his convenience. Arthur takes what he wants, putting his desires above all questions of safety. No fence can hold him but he won’t leave. He sleeps where he wants and then makes a point of peeing on the hay. It isn’t that Arthur throws a tantrum. He just does what suits him, no need for permission or apologies.

Tell the truth; you envy him just a bit, don’t you?

Some riders ask me about confidence-building but we all wish there was a remedy for being an introvert. How many of us chronically put others before ourselves as a cop-out, down talking our skills, exaggerating all that went wrong first, and then minimizing our success. Humility is one thing but what we do lands closer to self-betrayal. Maybe worst of all, we’re too polite and in the process let our horses down. We’re like Cupid, we hate to rock the boat, we keep our eyes low, and we would never take more than a fraction of our due. The problem is we belittle our value. We don’t want to be seen as arrogant but in that process, we sell ourselves short. We forget it isn’t bragging if it’s a fact.

It isn’t bragging if it’s a fact.

It’s true that Arthur has no advanced degrees. Me, either. You could hire a professional life coach to work things out and it might even be a good idea. And maybe I spend too much time looking for mentors in the barn. What if it’s time to barge your way into your own life, asking for what you want with clarity, taking credit for work well done. Resting in the knowledge that you’re doing a great job at being you.

None of us are in imminent danger of becoming narcissistic ass-hats and even if we were, we’d get over it the next time we saw a horse and fell in love again. I do know this: horses like us to stand tall. They feel most comfortable when we are calm and clear. They don’t care if we’re perfect, they care that we have integrity. That we are true to our intentions.

We should claim what is ours without apology. Smile as we do it our way. Bleat about accepting ourselves just as we are, if we feel the desire. What is confidence but experience, followed by an effort to understand ourselves and do better going forward?

We are all survivors of this chaotic world. We have earned our place here and pride is not the same thing as arrogance. The world would benefit if we were true to what we’ve won through courage and commitment, and then encouraged others to do the same.

Arthur is a full-blown antidote to micromanagement and sedate order. He doesn’t love me and he never will but he does like to have his horn-nubbins scratched sometimes. As he ages, I’m sure that leg will bother him more. If the horses are running, he gets nervous and charges at me. He doesn’t usually manage to stop in time. This feckless goat continues to exist somewhere between audacity, inconvenience, and a bleating how-to manifesto on self-care. I’ll follow his lead.

It isn’t my job to bend him to my will. What if the fight isn’t for dominance but instead, an invitation to autonomy?

…

Anna Blake at Infinity Farm

Want more? Join us at The Barn, our online training group with video sharing, audio blogs, live chats with Anna, and so much more. Or go to annablake.com to subscribe for email delivery of this blog, see the Clinic Schedule, or ask a question.

 

The post Life Coach: The Goat Version appeared first on Anna Blake.

Photo & Poem: Holiday Place

 

You had a plan for how this would go when you left home.

Longing for a thing different than how it was. Maybe a

career or a husband. Maybe the perfect sofa because you

wanted to rest, blanket around your feet and a tortoise-shell

cat like the one when you were a kid, lounging on the armrest.

But the cat ran away and you were only renting. For years

friends invited you for holiday meals and you went because

they said it was wrong to be alone but once you arrived, there

was no room for your voice in their family stories, sitting on

a straight-back chair until enough time had passed, that you

could thank the cook for her kindness and go, refusing leftovers,

out to the soft night. Not lost but wandering, one foot in front of

the other, you traveled toward a destination not yet in sight, too

dear to name. Collecting along the way an oak table, quilts made

by other women’s grandmothers, and antique pink wine glasses

that you didn’t save for good. Until you find a strange little house

with a view from every window of something you want to see,

and you are warm inside. Rule out pumpkin pie and make stuffing

with too many apples and nuts, for loved ones with awkward habits

you somehow find endearing. In this place, you cook the turkey.

…

Anna Blake at Infinity Farm

Want more from this horse trainer who writes poems? Join us at The Barn, our online training group with video sharing, audio blogs, live chats with Anna, and so much more. Or go to annablake.com to subscribe for email delivery of this blog, see the Clinic Schedule, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses.

The post Photo & Poem: Holiday Place appeared first on Anna Blake.

How To Spoil Your Horse

Will we ever stop telling long-winded horse stories? No chance. We are besotted with horses; we need horse friends because who else could stand the ongoing chatter? We talk about how we found them, and how far they have come. We tell stories about epic trail rides and how they came apart at a clinic. We detail health issues and best practices for care. How beautiful they trot or how many miles they have carried us. How we came off and got hurt when our horse went nuts, or how they knew our hearts when we were lonely or feeling loss.

It’s a separate thing; the love of a narrative and the love of a horse. The narrative might sound like a hero’s story; a rider who overcame the odds. If you’re riding a horse, you’ve overcome odds. It might be the story of a horse making the journey from a bad start to a happy ending. Or the story could be about every complaint that person ever had, a rant belittling horses to make the human sound smarter, pushing false narratives like saying mares are crazy or Arabs are spooky. Then there are the discipline police who want you to know that if you are not constantly correcting your horse, you are weak and ruining him. That every time the horse looks away it is criminal disrespect and they know how to train that horse better than you. No shortage of advice and “Spare the rod, spoil the child” is the rule for horses, dogs, and kids.

We can’t control the false narratives told about horses any more than we can control horses, but we can choose our words carefully because it isn’t just how we train but who we become. Because horse people are hard-headed by nature, I’m not suggesting anyone should confront a rider pounding flanks and jerking reins, intent on teaching a horse a lesson. The times I’ve done it, I’ve been treated to the horse getting even more abuse. Besides, humans don’t give to pressure without a fight either. No one appreciates a public correction, even a naysayer who just gave you one.

Sure, revenge might sound good. Maybe banging some metal in that rider’s mouth, in the same way you’d like to starve humans who neglect horses. Our aggression comes out when we see horses mistreated but seething with anger only brings us down to their level. Besides, if we believe in Affirmative Training, isn’t that self- defeating? I’m tired of both sides thinking that fighting wins, but our side refusing to engage while we fill with passive-aggressive stomach acid.

One answer is to be proactive. We could take the narrative back and re-define some words. Just enough to throw the balance a bit. What if we started bragging about spoiling our horses? I don’t mean plying horses with treats or allowing them to be dangerous. Horses don’t enjoy feeling anxiety any more than we do, so we’ll hold a polite standard of ground manners but that can be taught with kindness and release, two things horses will tell you are the best rewards.

Top Ten Ways to Spoil Your Horse:

10. Halter your horse with slow mindful attention to his calming signals, instead of chasing him into a corner and grabbing him.

9. Let your horse eat while tacking up instead of the constant correction to stand still. (An extra advantage of food in his stomach to buffer stomach acid/gastric discomfort.)

8. Build confidence by small successes, helping instead of abandoning him, like tying him to the trailer to fight it out “with himself.”

7. Hold the rope slack, stand by his shoulder, demonstrate peace by standing out of his space, instead of micromanaging his head and fighting with him to “respect your space.”

6. Say “Good boy” as his anxiety grows with the vet or farrier. Not to reward the bad behavior, but to remind him who he is.

5. When you feel the pressure of eyes watching, say in a nice clear voice to your horse, “Take all the time you need, no reason to hurry.” This is more a cue you give yourself.

4. Breathe with every good behavior because nothing is more affirming to a horse and what we pay attention to grows. Ignore the rest.

3. If you aren’t working with your horse, put him up. Don’t make him stand around while you tell a friend a longwinded story about how much you love him.

2. If the ride is going well, get off too soon. Let bliss hang in the air.

1. Admit when it isn’t working. Admit you’re wrong and just stop whatever you’re doing. An apology to your horse wouldn’t hurt either.

Is this breaking all the rules? High time. What lunacy to think that fear-based training will create a reliable horse. It’s utterly crazy to think kindness would spoil a horse. So demeaning to think horses are so much less than human that they are incapable of recognizing when we show them grace, or that they would be incapable of returning it.

Your real problem with naysayers is that it takes a while to figure out that something you are doing is making them feel insecure. That people who manage to find good in any situation always make people nervous. It’s a threat against the status quo, against the way of the world. Nothing less.

But what if your greatest naysayer lives inside your own body? Why do we see our vulnerability as a weakness rather than recognizing it’s the same as being present in the moment? Responding alive with energy should be preferable over reciting stale rules. Are the restrictions we feel the need to put on horses the same restrictions we put on ourselves; are we our own captors? Do we mitigate our loss of freedom by taking control of our horses, or could we gain some dignity in our own lives by sticking up for horses?

Raise the act of spoiling your horse to an art form. Give it a try, just say yes without listening to the voices of naysayers. Notice how you feel about spoiling him. A small seed of glee that you broke a rule or maybe your shoulders go softer? Is there relief that you didn’t have to pick a fight? Feel the thrill of seeing your horse offer you something, followed by a little fist pump, when out of nowhere, with total improbability, you hear Frank Sinatra singing My Way. No wonder change is hard.

Maybe now is a good time to breathe and then leg yield a zigzag at the trot in a neckring. Or canter a figure-eight, just because you can. You might even laugh out loud at the joy of just being with a horse, proud you’ve created a place where the white-hot power of simply breathing rises above aggression and the dynamic strength of kindness and compassion are undeniable.

…

Anna Blake at Infinity Farm

Want more? Join us at The Barn, our online training group with video sharing, audio blogs, live chats with Anna, and so much more. Or go to annablake.com to subscribe for email delivery of this blog, see the Clinic Schedule, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses.

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 How To Spoil Your Horse appeared first on Anna Blake.

50. The As-If Rule

You are unauthorized to view this page.

Username





Password




Remember Me

 







 

Forgot Password

The post 50. The As-If Rule appeared first on Anna Blake.