Anna Blake's Blog, page 38

Photo & Poem: Dwindling Light

 

His swayed back so warm in the late

afternoon but he doesn’t lie down. His

shoulders bear his weight without rest.

When predators come, he can’t be helpless

to run, not that his buckled knees could

carry him far. He ambles in for his dinner

alfalfa, belly soft, and while the other

horses tuck in for the night, he shuffles

quickly back out, the gate left open for his

escape, a cooling breeze lifts the scent of

sage crushed as he drags his hooves, his

limp is much worse in the cold. The gelding

pauses, stretching his neck low, sampling the

dandelions and marsh grass. Turning his neck

to gaze through the fence, over the pond to

a watery stillness and the sunset in his eye.

…

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.

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

Fear, Shame, and Affirmative Training

 

This is a photo of when you first fell in love with horses. Maybe you dreamed it and it took another fifty years to come true, or maybe you’ve had a horse every day since then. This is also a photo of the first time a horse frightened you a bit. Those two experiences are impossible to separate.

I’m continuing what I started in last week’s essay about losing confidence with a reader’s comment, “When it comes to horses, I think that fear isn’t talked about nearly enough other than in the context of, if you have fear, your horse will know it! I know that I have shame around my horse-based fear and I suspect most others with fear feel the same. I would love to hear more about this topic and how to work with the internal conflict of, “I’m scared,” versus, “I must exude confidence!”

Agreed, if you are afraid, your horse will know. Even if you put on a huge show of bravado, he’ll see through it. Here is a short list of other things he knows: He knows you love him. I don’t believe that horses feel that emotion the same way we do, but a horse can certainly read good intention from us. The proof is their willingness to forgive. The trick is to make your love just an inch bigger than your fear, in a way that makes horse sense.

It helps to understand what’s happening internally. When something startles horses, they move into their flight/sympathetic nervous system. When the dread is eventually released, they come back into the restive/parasympathetic system. It sounds familiar because humans have the same nervous system. When either horses or humans get a fright, we stop breathing normally. Panic follows because breathing is a life or death reflex. With nervous systems like ours, the fear grows fast; it’s like a double runaway but we can come back quickly, too. That’s why breathing is such a strong antidote for both of you.

Here’s the good news. These two aspects of our nervous systems aren’t divided by a narrow line; think of it more as a spectrum. One extreme end is the peaceful parasympathetic end and at the other is horror-filled sympathetic. It’s the spectrum between love and fear, a spectrum all horses and humans exist on. So, your fear is kind of ordinary and normal. Your confidence may feel like it’s deserted you, but it’s not really gone. It’s just sideways from you on the spectrum. I hope that cheers you up a bit.

Life is anxiety; there are no bomb-proof horses or fearless riders. Riders are never in control. Breathe. The best option is to build confidence in our horses and ourselves so when a challenge comes, we cope with it better. Then the more successful experiences we have that our coping skills work, the more trust is shared by both horse and rider. Tada!

Traditional fear-based training methods involve throwing the horse into his sympathetic system by constant correction or intimidation. A horse trained by fear and force becomes unreliable; he sees humans as untrustworthy, too. In affirmative training, the goal is not to keep a horse in his parasympathetic system but start there and begin the ride slowly. When the horse feels a bit of growing anxiety, a step toward his sympathetic end of the spectrum, we slow down and encourage breathing. What if fear was not a failure but common sense asking you to listen and go slow? As the horse soothes himself, he returns to the calm parasympathetic end and he builds confidence by knowing he’s okay. When the rider does the same, a positive tendency of behavior has begun. Eventually, huge challenges seem easy because rather than being flooded by the fear, both are able to slow down and release tension.

I can’t place the phrase, “I must exude confidence!” on the love/fear spectrum between a horse and rider. It’s a third voice; it has the ring of domination training for people. Did a trainer or parent threaten; was it the collective voice of railbirds? Were you punished for being too weak to be cruel enough to frighten your horse? Do you carry a residue of the pain from the break of trust, physical and mental? Your balance might be unreliable with such an unwieldy load to carry. Just like a frightened horse.

One other ordinary thing both horses and humans have is a good memory. We don’t forget bullies or harsh treatment. Maybe the reason we have compassion for abused horses is that we understand how it feels. Now it’s time to show ourselves that same compassion.

Reliving the negativity of abuse leaves a mark on us, energetically. After ranting a while, we have to stop calling ourselves rescues. Exhale, let the story go. Sympathy is a thin comfort and it doesn’t dilute fear. We can’t erase the incident that broke trust, it’s going to stay with all the other fearful experiences and that’s okay. Stop picking the scab, let it go.

Having an awareness of how confidence is lost is also how to welcome it back. Here’s where understanding calming signals changes everything. We can literally communicate with horses, by exchanging calming signals. We have a tool for negotiating the love/fear spectrum.

Begin by going to the arena with your horse and what’s left of your sense of humor. Saying “I’m scared,” is an honest start. Fear shrinks in the face of truth, so drag that monster out into the light. See? He has moist pale skin and he’s the size of a small reptile. Make him watch in the sun with no water. Tell him to wait by the mounting block. With any luck, he’ll get stepped on. I have no sympathy for monsters. I won’t worship fear.

Just walk and breathe. Do some leading from behind. It’s a beautiful day to start a new tendency of riding; to add a positive experience in a new stack next to the stack of less than positive experiences; yay for the opportunity to start over but with better tools this time.

When it feels okay, go to the mounting block and climb to the top step. From this height, it’s easy to see the haters who encourage you to destroy your horse’s trust and try to intimidate you with shame.  They’re trying to take horses away from you. Lay a quiet hand on your horse and remember you love him. Smile big. Ignore the voices as an insult. See them pouting? They’ll slink away soon.

You’re still on the mounting block. Your horse is standing quietly, tell him, “Good boy.” He may or may not have his saddle on. It doesn’t matter because your standing at about the height you’d be if you were on his back. Breathe. Remember how much sweeter the air is up here. Remember that little girl. Say an affirmation; mine has always been “I love my horse.”

Does it feel like you might be able to do more? Good. Step down off the mounting block and go back to the barn. Quit when you’re both still hungry. Give that good horse some hay and bring out all the rubber curries. Throw a party because you’re both on the way back.

Training a horse to be a reliable partner is simply the action of collecting a stack of good experiences. In time, with patience for our crazy nervous systems, they add up. Keep breathing, don’t let yourself be spooked by memories. And we all hear those voices, some of us have gotten very strict about which ones we listen to.

You’ll need real courage for this last part. To both you and your horse, offer a cup of forgiveness. Just enough to feel like a light sprinkle of cool rain. Feels good to let go just a bit, doesn’t it?

Relaxed & Forward Training is offering Back in the Saddle, small group, online intensives using personal interaction and videos in this slow confidence-building method with special attention to the horse’s calming signals. Coming in August, contact me with your email address for details.

…

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 Fear, Shame, and Affirmative Training appeared first on Anna Blake.

Photo & Poem: Dry Thunder

 

The draft horses galloped out of the barn

and down the fence line, stood on their hind

legs, pawing the air with teeth bared, then

threw their heads down, stretched low to nip

at each other’s hooves as the thunder whispered

to a boom. Flashing violence, the clouds blew

the sky a greenish purple, scattering untouched

hay, running the day’s heat to cold, and forcing

birds to shelter between hay bales. An hour of

bluster exchanged for a scarce spit of rain. Then

dread rolled on with the clouds to the east, and

in the residual darkness, the slow hum of chewing.

…

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.

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

Confidence Lost and Found

 

We thought having a horse would make everything perfect. It’s a dream most of us were born with; we were drawn to horses in some way that we can’t explain in polite words. We were a bit frightening to our mothers. We begin to lose whatever meager social skills we had for small talk at social events in favor of clock-watching until we can make an excuse about feeding and leave early. We gave up princess dreams in exchange for barn coats, muck boots and gnarly nails.

We love to tell horse stories that all have the same plot: We get a horse, usually the wrong one. We struggle with challenges on all fronts. We get bad advice, we lose money, we get bucked off. We persist, two steps forward and one step back. We eventually find a better version of ourselves. Then even if the horse lives to thirty, we think we lost them too soon.

As a kid, I clutched the “H” encyclopedia, the only horse book on the farm, and begged daily for a horse of my own. My father eventually relented and came home from an auction with a wild-eyed pony who kicked me in the face. Don’t all horse stories really come down to trying to balance love and fear?

If it was as easy to buy confidence as it is to buy tack; if trust was a supplement that came in both human and equine form, we’d be just fine.

On good days when it all goes right, we should hoot-out with bravado. We survived, we had a feeling of true partnership, whether competing or out on the trail, we had a blue-ribbon ride. We should celebrate, not out of garish pride but because we know the fluid state of reality. We know that confidence can come and go like the tide.

It’s a perfect storm that creates a perfect ride. It’s a hundred details important to your horse like a healthy stomach, balanced hooves, great saddle fit, physical balance, a low bug population, and a peaceful barometer. This all matters because when things go wrong, there’s a perfect storm, too. It isn’t about luck, it involves things that our senses can’t pick up, things important to the horse. And that doesn’t include the human aspects of the perfect storm and we’re much more complicated.

Let’s say you’re a good rider and you have a great horse. The two of you have small challenges but no glaring problems. You’ve had enough horses to know how lucky you are. Then on an ordinary sunny day, just when you have never felt better about your horse and the progress in the last year… Just when your goals seem to be within your grasp, because you’ve gone slow and done it all right, it happens. The ride comes apart. Your horse is frightened and so are you. Maybe you ride it out or maybe you come off. Maybe you bounce to your feet or maybe you’re hurt. The details will be scrutinized, excuses offered on all sides, you will go deeper for better understanding. Some might laugh it off but most of us will find a quiet place and soak in the pain of doubt.

It feels like the rug was pulled out, that your horse has betrayed you. That you are wrong about everything, and you can’t trust your horse or anything you knew. In other words, things just got real. The drama of the moment blinds ordinary perception. You know intellectually that it’s just one day in the story you’ll tell in the future, but it’s the hard day. In hindsight, it may build character but right then, it all feels like a failure as your partnership crashes to the ground.

You’ve been horse-crazy since this obsession began, but now you’re scared, embarrassed and self-critical, feeling that you’ve betrayed your horse, too. You love your horse and you’re afraid. It would seem crazy to someone who doesn’t have horses, but for us, it’s a common. Some would argue, a healthy state of mind.

You might notice right about now that we romanticize horses. We dream of National Velvet or Black Stallion. We give them titles like therapist or lifesaver, or fur-kid. We form a secret society with a password nicker, only to get booted out. Trust is destroyed, confidence is rattled, and it feels like innocence is lost, even if you’ve had ten horses before this one. Weirdest of all, even now, you know you can’t quit. The only thing worse than the despair in the moment is thinking of a life without horses.

“They taught me how it works. You have to let your heart be soft. You have to let your love be just an inch bigger than your fear.” -Dedication in Relaxed & Forward, the book.

Nothing about horses comes without a cost. And so, we start again. We remind ourselves that horses are horses, and then try to understand what that means in a deeper way. They have instincts that rule them, as ours rule us. We have to negotiate that balance.

Instead of being made weaker by our fears, let’s drag them out into broad daylight and, like your weird uncle at family reunions, invite them into the process. What if fear could be re-framed as common sense and we channeled it into self-awareness. We can stop demonizing fear and let it be a learning aid. Not that it’s an easy thing to do, but because hating part of ourselves is a losing proposition. Embracing our parts makes us closer to whole.

Once the swelling goes down, we might negotiate the idea of confidence, too. It isn’t a commodity to gain, so much as a reality that we nurture. We can’t chase it down, buy it in a book, or wish it into existence. We have to befriend confidence and after a bump like this, it’s a bit like a rescue dog, shy in the beginning or trying too hard to act like nothing’s wrong.

We need to show ourselves the patience and compassion we hope to have for horses. We have to give ourselves the time we need to heal. Getting bucked off means that we land in a new reality. Trade romance for an honest relationship with your horse, where strengths and weaknesses get mixed together.

Then go slow. Lower your expectations, so you can congratulate yourself more often. Praise your own breathing. Tack up and take a stroll. Loiter at the mounting block, and then go back to the barn. Take your time to climb back on and have a friend on the ground. Have a three-minute ride and dismount hungry. Say thank you.

Let affirmations take the place of self-criticism. You’ll need to remind yourself about that every day… until confidence becomes a habit.

When we are in the middle of the story we will eventually tell, we’ll lose perspective because the process is always a challenge, with every horse. Details change, it isn’t always pretty, but all horse stories end the same way. We still love them.

…

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 Confidence Lost and Found appeared first on Anna Blake.

Photo & Poem: Hand

 

One draws attention, standing by a tolerant gelding

and playing the horse whisperer, tickling withers,

teasing his whiskery muzzle. Passive violence in

the guise of a scratch, demanding an involuntary

response ripped with conflict, pulsing with agitation.

One demands sweaty perfection, the mare never

exactly good enough, but rewarded at last, one

ringing slap, a threat masquerading as praise is only

a thin acceptance. Diminished by miserly gratitude,

her exhaustion has no value on unreliable footing.

Horse, you are enough. Bringing no request, no

expectation you must fill, my hand rests on your shoulder,

both precious and familiar. Let my palm be a still place

we meet, neither owing a debt, both lingering in this

unremarkable moment, needing to be no more than we are.

…

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 Photo & Poem: Hand appeared first on Anna Blake.

Affirmative Training and Spoiling Horses

Most of us hear voices. We might be working with our horses on an issue and floundering in the moment, because we hear a threatening voice in our heads. It could haunt us from the past; a trainer from decades ago, something said on a video or written. For some of us, the harsh threat of a parent echoing from childhood. “You are spoiling that horse.”

People tell me frequently the voices are all too real, coming from railbirds at their barn or cowboy advice they didn’t ask for.  Sometimes the most critical voice is our own, after years of hearing those voices, we can question ourselves, again and again. Our confidence takes a hit.

Now is a good time to remind ourselves we are predators. We might try to be different, but the urge is still there. It’s our natural tendency to pick a fight. It takes no special skill to see what’s wrong and then like a lynch mob, our default position is to judge and punish the offender; jerk the dog on the leash, correct the horse so he’ll learn he is wrong. Half the time we make a correction to appease other people as much as train our animals. These voices we hear, literally or in our heads, are like background music, sneaking up, not to lift us to dance but to dull us down to our worst instincts. Sometimes so subtle we don’t see it coming.

These days, I see horses at clinics mostly. Your horse is never at his best at a clinic; it’s just true. Maybe it’s the trailer ride away from his herd, maybe it’s the new surroundings with other anxious horses. If the clinic is happening at your own barn, your horse will respond to the general chaos of being invaded by strangers. Yikes, money has been spent to learn something and the horses are all upset. That adds another layer of anxiety for the participant, and when you bring your horse, who now has separation anxiety from being taken away from the strange horses he’s trying to connect with, into the arena alone, both of you are barely throat-breathing and on your tippy-toes. Welcome to my clinic.

Those old voices say we should push the horse through their fear, ride them to submission. Let a horse get away with it and they win. If you let your horse win just once, he will be ruined forever. Hogwash.

I start by “babying” the horses. I’m proud to do it because I understand that a frightened horse (or rider) are in their sympathetic nervous system. Flight, fight, or freeze, it isn’t a good place to learn for either. If I want to be heard as a trainer, I need to help both horse and rider relax and return to the vicinity of the parasympathetic or restorative phase of their nervous system. That’s science talking, not a voice we are used to listening to. So a good first step is to have another horse in the arena. It’s easy enough to do and it benefits both horses. Why wouldn’t we?

At a recent clinic, I was suggesting it to a rider, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to do it because it would be a crutch. At her horse’s age, shouldn’t he be over this? Wouldn’t that be a bad thing giving in to his anxiety?

Separation anxiety isn’t a problem for horses. They are herd animals and it’s natural for them. Separation anxiety is a problem for us when we go against that. Punishment destroys trust and the only way a horse will find the confidence to separate is when we manage to be affirmative leaders, providing a similar safety that the herd does.

I’m sure the voices in her head debated it, but it was a clinic and she took my suggestion. In this case, she brought her gelding out with his boss mare. The mare was at liberty in the arena when we started, first walking the perimeter. The horse and rider went to work, soon the older mare parked on the rail near the auditors with a look that said she’d had enough and would rest right there. Meanwhile, the partners had a great lesson, confidence grew, and they forgot the mare. Having her there to launch the lesson was a small kindness that set the stage for partnership, not abandonment.

The rider and I are both writers and words matter to us. We talked about her word choice. In this definition a crutch has a connotation of being weak and cheating, it’s a word those old voices might use as an insult. It was the first place both of us went, but the literal definition of a crutch is that it’s an aid to help us stand until we can hold our own selves up. A crutch isn’t used to beat something down, it’s meant to help us when we lose balance, to allow us to move forward and become stronger. How did this word get so twisted?

Less Correction, More Direction.

Affirmative training happens through successive approximation. At the start, the horse doesn’t know what we want. We play Hot and Cold, that childhood game. We give a cue and he does something kind of like what we want, and we say YES to let him know he’s getting warmer. We confirm the right action and ignore the rest. It’s a universal law that the thing we pay attention to grows. Instead of living in a cycle of punishing the wrong, we practice the art of seeing good and praising it with gratitude. Then watch your horse’s confidence grow.

It’s silly to think we need to train trot transitions or obstacles or even piaffe. Horses do those things naturally. The only thing we have to offer horses in this chaotic world is confidence.

Is affirmative training spoiling a horse by using a crutch? Maybe so, but if it’s a crutch that supports me to rise above my predator instinct, I’ll use it proudly. Maybe then my horse can rise above his prey instinct and feel safe with me.

…

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.

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 and Spoiling Horses appeared first on Anna Blake.

Affirmitive Training and Spoiling Horses

Most of us hear voices. We might be working with our horses on an issue and floundering in the moment, because we hear a threatening voice in our heads. It could haunt us from the past; a trainer from decades ago, something said on a video or written. For some of us, the harsh threat of a parent echoing from childhood. “You are spoiling that horse.”

People tell me frequently the voices are all too real, coming from railbirds at their barn or cowboy advice they didn’t ask for.  Sometimes the most critical voice is our own, after years of hearing those voices, we can question ourselves, again and again. Our confidence takes a hit.

Now is a good time to remind ourselves we are predators. We might try to be different, but the urge is still there. It’s our natural tendency to pick a fight. It takes no special skill to see what’s wrong and then like a lynch mob, our default position is to judge and punish the offender; jerk the dog on the leash, correct the horse so he’ll learn he is wrong. Half the time we make a correction to appease other people as much as train our animals. These voices we hear, literally or in our heads, are like background music, sneaking up, not to lift us to dance but to dull us down to our worst instincts. Sometimes so subtle we don’t see it coming.

These days, I see horses at clinics mostly. Your horse is never at his best at a clinic; it’s just true. Maybe it’s the trailer ride away from his herd, maybe it’s the new surroundings with other anxious horses. If the clinic is happening at your own barn, your horse will respond to the general chaos of being invaded by strangers. Yikes, money has been spent to learn something and the horses are all upset. That adds another layer of anxiety for the participant, and when you bring your horse, who now has separation anxiety from being taken away from the strange horses he’s trying to connect with, into the arena alone, both of you are barely throat-breathing and on your tippy-toes. Welcome to my clinic.

Those old voices say we should push the horse through their fear, ride them to submission. Let a horse get away with it and they win. If you let your horse win just once, he will be ruined forever. Hogwash.

I start by “babying” the horses. I’m proud to do it because I understand that a frightened horse (or rider) are in their sympathetic nervous system. Flight, fight, or freeze, it isn’t a good place to learn for either. If I want to be heard as a trainer, I need to help both horse and rider relax and return to the vicinity of the parasympathetic or restorative phase of their nervous system. That’s science talking, not a voice we are used to listening to. So a good first step is to have another horse in the arena. It’s easy enough to do and it benefits both horses. Why wouldn’t we?

At a recent clinic, I was suggesting it to a rider, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to do it because it would be a crutch. At her horse’s age, shouldn’t he be over this? Wouldn’t that be a bad thing giving in to his anxiety?

Separation anxiety isn’t a problem for horses. They are herd animals and it’s natural for them. Separation anxiety is a problem for us when we go against that. Punishment destroys trust and the only way a horse will find the confidence to separate is when we manage to be affirmative leaders, providing a similar safety that the herd does.

I’m sure the voices in her head debated it, but it was a clinic and she took my suggestion. In this case, she brought her gelding out with his boss mare. The mare was at liberty in the arena when we started, first walking the perimeter. The horse and rider went to work, soon the older mare parked on the rail near the auditors with a look that said she’d had enough and would rest right there. Meanwhile, the partners had a great lesson, confidence grew, and they forgot the mare. Having her there to launch the lesson was a small kindness that set the stage for partnership, not abandonment.

The rider and I are both writers and words matter to us. We talked about her word choice. In this definition a crutch has a connotation of being weak and cheating, it’s a word those old voices might use as an insult. It was the first place both of us went, but the literal definition of a crutch is that it’s an aid to help us stand until we can hold our own selves up. A crutch isn’t used to beat something down, it’s meant to help us when we lose balance, to allow us to move forward and become stronger. How did this word get so twisted?

Less Correction, More Direction.

Affirmative training happens through successive approximation. At the start, the horse doesn’t know what we want. We play Hot and Cold, that childhood game. We give a cue and he does something kind of like what we want, and we say YES to let him know he’s getting warmer. We confirm the right action and ignore the rest. It’s a universal law that the thing we pay attention to grows. Instead of living in a cycle of punishing the wrong, we practice the art of seeing good and praising it with gratitude. Then watch your horse’s confidence grow.

It’s silly to think we need to train trot transitions or obstacles or even piaffe. Horses do those things naturally. The only thing we have to offer horses in this chaotic world is confidence.

Is affirmative training spoiling a horse by using a crutch? Maybe so, but if it’s a crutch that supports me to rise above my predator instinct, I’ll use it proudly. Maybe then my horse can rise above his prey instinct and feel safe with me.

…

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.

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 Affirmitive Training and Spoiling Horses appeared first on Anna Blake.

Photo & Poem: Spine to Spine

His back is not solid, nerves run between banks of

muscle, each vertebra linked to the next, from the

base of his skull to the end of his tail. A horse’s strength

is rhythm, each hoof initiating a wave when it takes to

the air, a surge of energy rolling up through his hind,

my human hip to answer. Allowing passage, his stride

rolls through my vertebra, then the next hoof takes

the air, rocking my pelvis to ripple my spine up the

fragile links to my skull. Our nervous systems in a

waltz, a slow dance covering hard ground, pulsing grace

into my pedestrian body, the bottom of his tail flips

softly to the left, then right, as my toes float in midair.

…

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 Photo & Poem: Spine to Spine appeared first on Anna Blake.

Be-Here-Now: Focus on Safety (Helmets and Response Time)

 

You’re standing in a tennis court just behind the baseline, being mildly uncomfortable in your tennis togs because the glare off your legs, like any good horsewoman’s, is near blinding. Right about then, a bullet whizzes by your ear. You know it was a tennis ball, point to the server. Taking a few strides on the baseline to the other service court, this time you lean forward and squint your eyes to avoid the glare and see the other player. Bullet again. In hindsight, why carry the racket if you aren’t going to use it? And let’s be honest, it isn’t like you’re trying to return Serena’s serve (129mph). Try again, you see your opponent’s service motion, you actually know when it’s coming, so just …another bullet.

Not a fair comparison, you say? Because you’re a rider, not a tennis player well-schooled in tennis ball attacks? You’re right, it isn’t fair, but not for that reason. Tennis is easy and slow. Horses have a reaction time seven times quicker than a human. It’s the quickest reaction time of any domestic animal. That includes border collies; think about that.

The horse’s reflex to perceived danger is so instinctual that it seems instantaneous. Unpredictable, beyond choice, certainly not a question of trust, but a flight response originating in the horse’s nervous system and not open to mental debate. Prey animals are dead if they think twice. I’d use the example of humans flinching from an oncoming punch, but the truth is we usually get hit before we flinch because we are seven times slower than horses.

It isn’t fair. A thousand pounds of muscle and bone, with a lightning-fast response time versus a puny human who’s generally distracted with their own thoughts and good intentions. Not even close. No wonder we get hurt.

Most TBIs (traumatic brain injuries) happen when we’re riding but injuries on the ground are common enough. “Dismounted injuries require hospitalization approximately 42% of the time, while mounted injuries require hospitalization in only 30% of incidents,” according to Brainline.org.

A quick scroll through Facebook and I’m oozing calming signals myself. Are we doing some weird version of a firewalk with horses to prove something? It’s like a reality show where contestants compete to take the most foolish dare. There’s an epidemic of whisker-grabbing, bareback contortions, and laying down next to horses on the ground. Has social media drained us of horse sense? Ignoring your safety is a choice, but can you tell me how this benefits a horse? People might call it a trust exercise, but the horse’s half-closed eye says more than you think.

But mostly, when did we start thinking complacency about horsemanship on the ground was so cool? When did we lose respect for horses?

Putting on my loud-mouth party pooper (equine professional) hat, it’s time to talk about safety. I feel silly knowing this is pointed at adults who aren’t in 4-H or pony club anymore. Instead, we are adults who have others depending on us. Yes, safety is a personal choice, but it has an undeniable ripple effect on those who love us.

Lots of us got inspired (or re-inspired) about safety back in March 2010, by U.S. Olympic dressage rider Courtney King Dye.  She fractured her skull and suffered a traumatic brain injury while not wearing a helmet. She sparked a ripple effect helmet awareness movement that has changed the horse world from international FEI competitors to local amateurs.

Courtney King Dye was young, strong, and at the top of her game. What did she do so “wrong” with her horse? Nothing at all, her horse stumbled and fell. Unpredictable with no one to blame.

I can relate. My worst injury came from a horse somewhat-less-athletic-than-Courtney’s who tripped and went down. We were relaxed, trotting on open flat ground. No spook, no rein grab. We both slammed into the ground, one of us partly under the other. I was a bit broken but very lucky. Gravity and weight are forces we can’t deny, regardless of confidence, training, or experience.

Writing about helmets and safety every year, I’ve approached the topic in a range of ways. It feels silly to state common sense facts to adults who, if they answer thoughtfully, sheepishly shrug and say it boils down to ego or inconvenience. Theirs, of course, not their families or caretakers. Other riders who don’t use helmets can be pretty averse about it. Defensiveness never brings out the best in any of us.

I used to think that the old-timers who said they couldn’t change, (as they check for texts on their cell phones,) would eventually age-out and the younger generation would be smarter. Alas, these old-timers are also role models. What we do is always louder than what we say, so kids who started with helmets sometimes see adults without helmets as a sign of maturity.

Meanwhile, the general public is getting more information than they’d like about the danger of repeated concussions. Parents think twice about safety in the sports their kids play. Research bears it out, even as most of us know trainers and friends who are showing sad changes as the years catch up. We are more fragile than we know. Riders4helmets, the organization that formed after Courtney’s accident, is still going strong. This year there’s talk about including all sports helmets, I’m hopeful the movement is growing beyond the equestrian world. Good, because only 20% of equestrians wear protective headgear every time they ride.

Maybe the problem is social media. We see too much, compete to mimic or one-up the last pose, and swap good horsemanship for a photo opp. It’s the tiny kid on perched high up with no hands. My heart catches in my throat every time. Or it’s a famous professional sitting on a horse like it’s a couch. Statistics say riders with 5 or more years of experience are more likely to be injured. Being complacent in the face of inherent danger doesn’t make us look like a horse whisperer, it puts both you and your horse at risk. I believe connection with a horse is most undeniably shown at a distance.

Harping on about helmets is about the least cool thing of all, ranking me up there with hall monitors and crossing guards. And I’m beyond arguing the indefensible, so just a reminder. Please stay safe in the saddle, consider wearing a helmet for those you love, human and equine. Keep a solid awareness on the ground, too. Please don’t get complacent. Horses depend on us to be around as much as we depend on them, but we are smaller. We need armor, at least on our heads.

Horses are considered domesticated, but they remain flight animals forever.  No matter how much we love them, just beneath the surface, they will never belong to us entirely. We can’t dominate their instinct, horses will remain horses, glorious and wild, whose natural instinct is a primal force for his survival. That instinct is bigger than his heart, just like physics is bigger than Facebook.

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I’ll finish this post with the usual list of important information, in hopes that it might make a difference to the people who want to make a difference…

Stats

Equestrians are 20x more likely to sustain an injury than a motorcycle rider, per hour.
The number of rider deaths/year due to head injury is 60 (compared with 8 for Football)
60% of riding fatalities occur from head injuries.
The distance at which head injury can occur is 24 inches.

45% of TBI (traumatic brain injuries) are horse related. Riding is considered more dangerous than motorcycling or downhill skiing. Approximately 20% of accidents which result in head injury happen while the person is on the ground. They are just as common in professionals as amateurs.

If you have a hard impact blow while wearing your helmet, immediately replace it. There may be damage to the hat that is not visible to the naked eye. We generally recommend replacing your hat every four to five years.

There is no statistical correlation between skill level and injury likelihood. Head injuries are cumulative. An original head injury can be made much worse by additional concussions. Your injury risk depends on the height of the fall, as well as the speed at which you’re traveling. Even a fall from a standing horse can be catastrophic.

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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.

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 Be-Here-Now: Focus on Safety (Helmets and Response Time) appeared first on Anna Blake.

Photo & Poem: Home Farm

Skeletal power poles from the wind

turbines out east litter the view of the

mountains, splintering the sunset. New

construction treads closer, tract homes

and fast food. This farm was never

announced by miles of white vinyl fencing,

just a mailbox at the end of the driveway.

There are mismatched fence panels,

some white, some brown, some dented

by horseplay. The paddock gates were

hung true but impatient hooves have forced

a tilt while waiting for hay. Fence posts

always need replacing. We could use

some paint and a few truckloads of

fill dirt and pea gravel to replace what

the prairie wind has stolen. Keep the

unglamorous list; the chores I hated as a

kid have become a source of solace, a matter

of pride. Hold steady, home farm, don’t

quit on us. Walking the fence line picking

up Styrofoam and grocery bags, as the herd

of displaced deer move to the pond to drink,

scattering ducklings like skipping stones, high

tension lines reflected on the water surface.

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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 Photo & Poem: Home Farm appeared first on Anna Blake.