Where did I learn my stuff…

or who are my trainers?

I was born loving horses. I don’t know where it came from; I was born into a completely non-horsey family but as soon as I knew what a horse as I was obsessed. My mother eventually succumbed to relentless pressure and got me some lessons at our local riding stables. The lessons were fairly rudimentary, but I did learn to walk, trot, canter and jump. They also ‘allowed us’ to groom, muck out and generally help out! Once Mum realised that the obsession was deepening rather than the fad fading, the trips to the stables stopped post haste. I then had to find my own way to be with horses. There were a couple of nice enough ponies in a field near our house in North London; I still don’t know who owned them, but I used to crawl through the fence, groom them, and play games with them. I didn’t feed them or ride them- no one ot ask permission – I just loved spending time with them.

Aged 13 and I got my first paid summer grooming job. There was a summer camp run in the grounds of a prestigious North London boys school. Horse riding was one of the activities on offer. There was a large field at the bottom of the equestrian centre land, with 30 ponies delivered from a dealer, a pile of tack, and a dozen young girls like me, working for the princely sum of £15 a week. At lunch time the supervising BHS instructor would let us ride. We all had our favourites. The ponies would go to the sales at the end of the summer. The good ones might get lucky and go to a nice home, the naughty ones would probably go the knacker’s yard. So we all did our best, making sure our ponies would be the good ones. Camp was a good summer job for my secondary school years. I learned to ride all sorts of ponies and make them a bit better behaved under saddle. I had long legs and a sticky seat, and they couldn’t get me off too easily. I hope some of my favourites went on to better lives but I will never know.

In my gap year between secondary school and medical school, I travelled around Australia as an itinerant girl groom. There was an actual agency called English Girl Grooms! First, I worked in show jumping, as that was what I knew best, and then I was recruited as a polo groom. I got plenty of saddle time on spicy horses and learned how to keep competition horses fit, how to feed them and work them for soundness as well as speed. I learned how to stick and ball, and how to school a polo pony. I also learned a lot of first aid, common sense and everyday horse management as I went along. Coming back to the UK for medical school, I continued to scrounge horse time wherever I could. I worked at polo yards in the summer and rode out racehorses and hunters in the winter. I learned more about how to start young horses, and then to make them into good polo ponies.

Aleta, on OTTB I schooled that went on to play high goal

Medical school and junior training is pretty peripatetic; in the first 10 years I had lived in 8 houses in 3 cities. When I got my registrar training job, it meant at last I could buy a house out of town, get my own horse and go eventing. I wanted to go eventing because I love cross country jumping. But to go eventing we had to “do proper dressage”.

Now I could already school a horse. I had made a couple of very good high goal polo ponies from scratch, teaching them balance, lead changes, the classic stop and turn, all one-handed, and holding a polo stick! In my understanding, ‘on the bit’ meant on the aids, with quick fire responses, light in front, nimble behind, a pony reading your mind. To do proper dressage, apparently your horse had to go “on the bit, in a correct outline”. I started watching “proper” dressage tests. It was around the time Edward Gal and Totilas were wowing the world. “On the bit” obviously meant deep and round, I thought. Look at Gal, he is the dressage world record holder, he must be doing it right.

My first own horse was a beautiful black horse that I named Wise Words. He and I had a great time, but he was “quirky”. He was cheap as chips when I bought him because he had a reputation. He had a tough start, bred and produced at an high level eventing yard. I had to literally catch him in the stable before I could bring the saddle out, and as his main rider I could never reliably catch him in the field, even long after he had retired. He would only tolerate a straight bar Happy Mouth bit, but if you rode him on his terms, he was super light in the hand. I could have him going along beautifully, up and open but we would always get comments like “could be rounder”, “needs to be more over the back”. He didn’t agree; he would throw his head back and open his mouth when I applied too much pressure to his tongue with the bit.

I enrolled with a well-known local dressage trainer to help us get some better scores. It didn’t work. The black horse once spent 45 minutes reversing into the corner of the arena with said trainer on his back, rather than walk forward into a restrictive rein contact. On another occasion, he went up and over backwards, because the trainer was determined to make him submit, to go forwards, with his neck round and his head down. Because the trainer was the expert, you see. He had got on to sort the horse out, to solve a problem that I was unable to solve in the saddle under his instruction. The problem was ‘submission’. The black horse would not submit, and certainly not to pain. I learned quickly enough not to go head-to-head with him; I had to compromise or to find a way around the problem.

He had a bit of thing about ditches which we could never quite fix but we qualified for riding club championships in all the disciplines, we evented up to BE100, we team chased, drag hunted, and hacked thousands of long miles all over Cheshire. After a couple of years, his feet got so bad that I had to take his shoes off and he then did it all much better barefoot, which was his lesson for me. I was mostly just grateful for the privilege of being able to ride my own beautiful black horse.

The black horse and I continued to muddle along in our path of chosen compromise. He taught me lots, we had many great times, and I am truly grateful for the many years I got to be his human. But horses have a way of telling you when they are done with a particular sport. Polo ponies start evading the ride off, eventers start being reluctant to jump downhill. Michael Whittaker always says there is a finite number of jumps a horse can do in its life, before the wear and tear sets in. In Paddy’s case he started to refuse at otherwise simple drop fences aged 18 so I started looking around for another horse.

Cal was a young Irish import. I bought him fresh off the ferry aged 6. I was meant to buy a 161.hh bay gelding to bring on and sell but the grey horse had something about him. Also, it was my birthday weekend, and the next truck wasn’t coming for another 6-8 weeks…

Once I had him vetted and home, I wanted to do right by my lovely new horse. I was a young single doctor with lots of cash, so I paid for top class instruction. And we appeared to be doing well. We won the Novice class at the local Dressage with a whopping 76%. But Cal too had started turning his back on me when I brought out the saddle. And I knew a bit more now, and I adored my new horse and I wanted him to adore me. I didn’t want another horse that hated work…

I started looking around for another way. Classical dressage seemed to offer the most credible alternative. Dressage for the benefit of the horse, rather than the horse just doing dressage. I started looking for a new instructor. There were a few false starts – many people claim to be “classical” but have no theory or substance to base that assertion on. Others did not quite gel from a personality point of view. When doing dressage or doing bodywork, we are making tiny alterations to a horse. I am a surgeon, I can take criticism, but I won’t tolerate confabulation. On that basis, I expect explanations and deep understanding of the theory from my instructor, and, of course, the horse always gets the casting vote.

They say that when you are ready the teacher appears. Sarah, our first barefoot trimmer, was organising clinics with a mysterious lady called Patrice Edwards, and she encouraged me to attend. That first weekend, I saw countless horses change in front of my eyes, from tense, stiff marionettes with dull coats to smooth flowing athletes with coats like shimmering silk, and I felt my own horse change from a crooked, awkward baby to coordinated and completed powerhouse. Cal’s change only lasted for a few steps but I had felt enough to know that this was the work that I had been seeking. Especially since the change was not affected by doing things to the horse but by rearranging me, in the saddle, until I was sat poised in the middle, with the horse flowing through me.

Sarah had come to a life hiatus and couldn’t organise the clinics anymore, so I stepped in. Crucially for a busy doctor, this meant that I could choose the weekends. For nearly six years, I organised and facilitated the Cheshire clinics. We ran four full days of lessons most months, and I prioritised the clinics above all else in my schedule. I had 3 or 4 lessons over the weekend, depending on my funds, but also had to look after Ms P, video if required, meet and greet and park new participants, and generally protect the learning space within the arena.

It was a fabulous education; I calculate that I must have watched and taken notes on about 1200 hours of lessons. The participants were people and horses that I got to know well, so I could follow their training progression and I was fascinated and hungry to learn. We had at least one theory lecture a month, sometimes one a day. We were encouraged as a group to help each other with our homework in between clinic dates. We were expected to understand the theory fully, and to be able to communicate it clearly. It was a true apprenticeship in classical dressage, theory, practice, application, combined with experiential learning. Cal is quite long backed, and as a youngster was huge in front with a comparatively weak hind end, and seeing him happily developing in his body gave me solid proof that this approach was working.

One of Patrice’s long-term mentors was Charles de Kunffy and he was still coming to the UK at that stage, to the TTT as well as to Dovecote stables. It was couple of years before Cal and I were deemed ready to be presented to him even for a clinic lesson, and a bit longer before I managed to secure a coveted riding place on his clinic- I wasn’t a name, we weren’t part of the in-crowd, the local organisers wouldn’t prioritise me over their own pupils, but I did eventually get to ride for him a couple of times. I was the only person in that clinic to get a positive comment about my riding: Charles said I “sat very nicely”, which made Ms P proud.

My friend’s glorious then 6 year old, Rocky’s not so little sister.

Charles’ star was already waning in the UK at that time, but I enjoyed an occasional email correspondence with him and filled a good few notebooks with scribbles and patterns from the many hours of lessons that we watched. Patrice and I, and the rest of the clinic group, could then discuss what we had seen and build on the learning in the peace of our own arena, away from the snobbish Gloucestershire dressage queens.

Patrice’s physical strength started to decline, and the long drive north became increasingly onerous. Then came the pandemic and we all went online, but it was never the same. The online technology was equally good for individual lessons, but there was no mechanism for watching and learning as a group. After Covid, Patrice was finished with travelling, although we did manage to attend her residential dressage camps in the New Forest.

And then Arne Koets started visiting the UK more regularly. I had been to audit a few times, but once my knowledge and understanding was sound enough to see what he was doing, and with Patrice out of the picture (she was a possessive trainer), the timing was now right. I knew the theory, the biomechanics, the anatomy of dressage for horse and rider. Arne added the tiny details to find ease and form and function within the mechanics I had learned from Patrice. And with the demonstrations of tango and the beginnings of mounted fencing, Cal and I found the fun and the purpose of dressage again. Dressage is first and foremost for the horse, but it must be for the rider too otherwise we can all get stuck in our squirrel-like brains. And there is no truer expression of dressage than Garrocha, or horseback fencing, or just playing among the small square of pillars.

Arne would ask for the seemingly improbable- canter renvers ovals from the corner to X with a canter TOF at the apex- I kid you not, try it, Fiaschi wrote about it in the 14^th Century from memory, it is a thing…..

Patrice was quite Baucher, quite Nuno, and very Charles. Arne is quite medieval- Grissone, Fiaschi, De la Gueriniere. To understand the pair of them and to link them together I had to read them all. And am still doing so.

There are not enough hours in a lifetime to become a master horseperson. And your horse won’t last as long as you, so you will need to two or three, started from scratch to high school, to even ruffle the surface of that knowledge that oral tradition and apprenticeship passed down. It wasn’t for everyone then, and it is certainly not for everyone now.

But the horses tell me every day that if you try a little, if you pause, and breathe, and find that space where dressage is fun and useful and helpful, then they will happily play there with you. And be stronger and healthier and sounder for the effort. Dressage is not what we do for ribbons, or something we do to the horse, good dressage should be done, from basics to high school, whatever level you can achieve together, with the horse’s participation and consent, for the benefit of the horse, full stop. Then you will have your dream horse, and they will last a good long time.

Cal’s last affiliated event in the UK- 2022 aged 17. I’m hoping he will event here in Aus too…

Which was always the point of doing dressage.

If you like what you have read here and would like more, then please consider purchasing my book https://www.seacrowpress.com/product/bare-hooves-and-open-hearts

The Opposite of Imposter Syndrome

aka Expert syndrome

Cover image courtesy of Sarah Linton. Painted Horse by Debranne Pattillo of Equinology and Equi-Ink Publications.

There has been a lot of chat this past year about imposter syndrome. It has now become completely acceptable and even laudable for leaders in their field to express their inner voices of doubt and lack of self-worth. It has become acceptable for experts to admit that they too feel unworthy and under confident in their powers and that we humans may not put ourselves out there and may not shine at our brightest as a result. Every successful public persona seems to have this missionary zeal to tell us that they too suffered from crippling fear and self-doubt at some stage in their journey. While this is a perennial problem that I am sure all reasonable, non-psychotic humans grapple with, in my experience, much more day to day damage is done by those with non imposter aka expert syndrome.

Expert syndrome

is a funny beast. It has become much more prevalent in modern times with the internet. The boon of instant communication and a non-discriminatory search engine enables us to type in a question relating to any problem and we will find all sorts of self-proclaimed experts offering the quick fix solution. In the world of horses, this magic bullet will solve everything. The expert has discovered the ultimate secret, packaged it up neatly into bite sized chunks and is now selling it in affordable, pocket seized online courses that will change both yours and your horse’s life for the better. And do you know what?

Life would be awesome if there was a magic bullet,

or a quick fix solution that could transform the troubled and complex beings that are our difficult and quirky horses into dreamboat equine dance partners.

With Rocky, (aka Royal Magic I kid you not) I spent years searching for the alchemical elixir. Ulcer treatment, hind gut biome rebalancing, regular massage, chiropractic treatment, rehabilitative groundwork, 3 fresh starts under saddle interspersed by 2 rounds of treatment for kissing spines. I went through a few different saddlers and brands of saddle, I checked his foot balance with x rays, as well as his back. I did everything that I and my very experienced team of supporters knew how and none of it was enough. In the end, for whatever reason, that horse would not let me tune in to his body or psyche to help him fix the problem that occasionally made him a dangerous, unpredictable riding horse. And I am just about OK with that. I think Rocky’s lesson for me was that you can accumulate all the knowledge in the world and do your absolute best to address all the issues but there are some horses for whom you are too late or simply not good enough.

I don’t claim to be an expert...

I also don’t believe that there is ever one root cause and one answer. In fact, the more I learn about horses, the more layers of the onion I seem to unpeel. Horse are the most masterful of compensators. They will hide one problem, until the hiding itself leads to another pattern of pathology, then a third. Some horses are incredibly stoic and tolerant, others will not put up with a single moment of discomfort. And most thankfully fall somewhere in between. Hope for the horse that will tell you ‘No’ clearly in a way that doesn’t risk your life.

And there are equestrian magicians out there.

Don’t get me wrong- there are some awesome practitioners who do absolutely improve the life of the horses they come across. Some are hoof trimmers, some are saddlers, some are physios. Life always gets a little bit better when you come across one of these people. They are all experts in their field, they are all keen to share their knowledge, they are keen to find out what you as the owner know and have put in place already and who else you work with.

So, how do we tell the difference between expertise and ‘experts”?

Who decides whether the self-proclaimed saviour of all things equine should be awarded the title of expert? In my view only one opinion counts here, and that is the horse.

How do we know if the horse is happy?

That can be such a simple question but for some reason we make it very tricky.

First we should all learn to trust our eyes. We can all see simple things, because seeing is believing and our eyes do not lie to us. The trouble starts when our brains try to fit what we believe or what we have been taught around the thing that our eyes are actually seeing.

This is why so many horsey folk believe that the poll lies about 6 inches behind the ears, rather than its correct anatomical location under the bridle head piece. We all know that the dressage rules state that the poll should be the highest point and we have seen so many top riders consistently win medals on horses where C2/C3 is actually the highest point, that we fallible humans convince ourselves that the poll must actually sit at the junction of C2/C3. Because that is the only way the winning makes sense within the rules that we have had drummed into us since we started to ride. When we actually get around to looking the facts up in an anatomy textbook, it is easy to see we have been mistaken for all these years.

Julie’s illustration – labelled to star TMJ but also has the Poll as highest bony point and the head in a lovely correct position in front of the vertical

But then why do those riders win medals if they are doing it wrong?

This is the common but incorrect aberration- see how the bones of C2 and C3 are the highest point here- and the strain this puts on the nuchal ligament.

That is why horse-naive people can see the cruelty and artificiality of Rollkur and the stiff spider leg movement much more clearly than the dressage afficianadoes. Their novice brains have not been scrambled playing mental twister trying to equate the images they see of the winning riders with the words we read in books and hear from our trainers.

Words that bear little resemblance to the reality of the pictures.

Turn the sound down when you are watching the videos- the music is carefully chosen to be emotive. If the trainer is talking in a masterclass, mute them for the first watch. Let your eyes see the truth of the picture initially without prejudice- does the horse look calm and relaxed or tense and fearful? Does he move freely, smoothly, effortlessly? Is your eye drawn to the horse, filled by the horse, is the rider rendered invisible or are your eyes distracted by the rider doing weird stuff on top?

Don’t listen to the trainer’s spiel until you have decided if you like the way the horse is going and whether you would like your horse to go like that.

A beautiful calm halt- the hallmark of good training

Would you want your horse to look like that?

Who did they train with? Are they good trainers or merely gifted riders? Can they explain to the rider how to change the horse for the better? How many horses have they trained from scratch? Do they have a history, a provenance, an education, a foundation of knowledge?

How do they interact with their horses? Do the horses seem to like them? Do the horses stand calmly next to the human looking goofy and relaxed? Do they stand quietly to be mounted? Do they show resistance or tension at the halt? How long have the horses lasted in their career, have they stayed sound? Do their horses look like happy athletes? Would you let them ride your horse? Would you sell them your horse?

Would your horse let them ride him?

If you truly allow yourself to feel the truth of those questions, more of us would be impervious to the influence of self-proclaimed experts and would be able to make better choices for our horses. Many people can talk in soundbites and sound plausible or sensible and offer us hope. Many of the experts might have something valuable to offer, but the only individual that will tell you the truth of that in the long run is the horse.

If we had more confidence in our own eyes and our own instincts, we would not suffer from imposter syndrome either. And I believe that more of us could have happy, sound, long lived riding and competition horses. We would be empowered to use our eyes, our observation, our personal knowledge and our love of our horses to make better choices for them.

Fabulous jumping position and keen focussed horse. I would love the feeling in this picture…

“Being Seen, Being Heard, Feeling Felt and Getting Gotten”

I have been pondering and playing with the concepts of connection and communication in riding, rather than control or coercion. And the idea of consent.

In some ways I always ask consent of my horses. I wait for them to take a step towards me in the field before I put the headcollar on. I allow them to sniff the brushes before I get stuck into grooming. I acknowledge that Cal has a very tickly stomach and I am careful which brush I use to get the mud off. More work for me, but it’s more pleasant for him. I pick the mud out of his ears by hand scratching. I make sure they all offer me the hoof that I want to clean out. When I am tacking up, they should come to the front of the stable volunteering to be ridden. Both Cal and Rocky like to have a good empty before I put the saddle on- I allow them the time to do this.

If we seek a true partnership with our horses then it follows that they should be allowed, able and comfortable to offer an opinion. I changed the ramp on my lorry a few years ago. It used to be carpet and I changed it to rubber matting. Big mistake as it turns out- a few years on the rubber matting is now slippery when wet. Cal was reluctant to load yesterday after slithering a little on the ramp once or twice over the past few weeks. I talked to him and told him I understood and I have promised him I will sort it and have ordered some sticky backed grip tape- I do hope that works. Horses may not understand words but they understand intent. Knowing that I register his comments and acknowledge them was enough to persuade him to load.

Others may have escalated the pressure in that situation and compounded the negative association with loading. That is counter- productive. I know exactly why he hesitates to step on the ramp- why would I punish him for being careful?

A few years ago the clutch in my truck went the day before a 3 day clinic. My local friend very kindly lent me her 7.5 tonne truck. Her horses have all been terrible travellers as long as I have known her but they are all related, out of the same mare, and I just thought they were highly strung. Cal always loads and travels beautifully- when things are right. By day 3 of the 3 day weekend Cal was refusing to get in my friend’s 7.5 tonne lorry. It looks like a great truck, well maintained, airy, spacious, but there must be something very peculiar about the suspension and the ride.

Funnily enough, the friend went on to get a new truck and her current crop of horses all load and travel beautifully!

If horses are not in a mental and physical balance that enables them to complete the task requested then they will express that, as a bit of stiffness or resistance, or perhaps even as a big explosion. Our job as riders is to set them up for success. Balance before movement. Mental balance and physical balance are intimately related in horses. The flight response is all about stiff muscles, braced spine, ready to flee. Horses will say- I can’t do that with this body. Or the flip side of the dilemma- I can’t do that in this moment with this brain.

If we can change that response we can enable better choices.

If the horse needs a moment to check something strange and scary when they are out hacking, until they are happy before walking past, then surely that is fine? Horses have no concept of time- stay a second or stay 10 minutes- they have no idea. Rocky plays reverse and go forwards a bit with stuff he isn’t sure about- if I wait and breathe and let the process happen at his speed- obviously praising the forwards but not over-stressing or fighting the backwards- it sometimes takes 3 or 4 reverses, the last one being the furthest back before he then always psychs himself up to walk or even trot past the scary object in a calm curious manner. If I get agitated and push him beyond his comfort zone then things can quickly deteriorate. Since I have been more patient to let him think and process he is much more willing to let me encourage him past the less scary stuff. It is all about an ongoing conversation.

It can all change with a heartbeat.

The science tells us that a horse’s heart emits 40 times more electromagnetic force than a tiny little human heart. Horses in a herd use this force field effect to synchronise their heartbeats. When a horse on the edge of the herd sees or senses something suspicious, their heartbeat will speed up. The rest of the herd feel this increase in heart-rate and are suddenly equally on alert.

You can find the webinar explaining the original research into heart rate synchronicity between horses and humans here https://www.heartmath.org/resources/downloads/heart-heart-communication-horses/

We can use this synchronicity effect to our advantage when riding or training. The vagus nerve is the nerve of para-sympathetic innervation. The parasympathetic nervous system inhibits the body from overworking and restores the body to a calm and composed state. It can be described as the “rest and digest” system. This is the opposite to the “flight or fight” response, activated by the sympathetic nervous system. When we breathe out slowly so our out breath is longer than our in breath, this activates the vagus nerve, and therefore para-sympathetic innervation. Calm returns.

You can test this slowing effect of the vagus nerve by feeling your own pulse, or your dogs heart-beat when he is lying next to you. When you breathe out long and slow, your heart beats a touch slower than when you breathe in. My dog has quite a marked variability when he is relaxed.

Breathing out while in the saddle also activates your diaphragm-seat connection. A good slow out breath pulls you deeper into the saddle, onto the back of your seat- bones. The horse will feel your calm, low heart beat, from as far as 4 feet away apparently, and theirs will synchronise to match. That is how they are programmed. Calm returns.

Conversely, if you tighten and tense up and breathe short sharp shallow breaths under tension, then the sympathetic “fight or flight” system takes over. We tend to hunch, subconsciously, putting us into a grip and clutch mode, on the front of our pelvis, and our heartbeat speeds up.

I would like to think that you wouldn’t find Rocky and I at this level of conflict again

And the horse will feel this, and synchronise to the faster human heartbeat, which makes them anxious too. A horse at rest has a pulse of 24-48 beats a minute- this is much slower than the human average of 60-100. To be sharing calm with our horses, we need to very consciously make sure we are at the bottom end of this human range.

When two hearts literally beat as one, that is the true meaning of connection

The meaning of dressage comes from the word root of “dress” or “to straighten”. The creation of a straight or “well dressed” horse is the purpose of dressage. And a straight or well dressed horse is able to perform any task required in that moment, assuming that the task requested has been prepared for with appropriate training and conditioning work, and the horse is in a mental state that allows cooperation.

With Rocky I have realised that I must apply equal emphasis to the mental as well as physical balance. With a big, athletic and genetically gifted horse, the sympathetic nervous system “no” can be too loud and too explosive to allow constructive dialogue. It is hard to have an ongoing conversation when we have parted company.

You could replace the word obedience to with ability to correctly respond and then you avoid the negative impression of mental submission.

For me submission is the horse offering its beauty and power in perfect mental and physical balance to the rider; like a pair of dancers or figure skaters jamming and saying “what shall we mess with next?’

So I breathe. And sit relaxed and loose. And deliberately slow my heart. And then we can talk. And hopefully one day we will dance, two hearts beating as one.

Rocky early days under saddle. Must take more pictures this year LOL

buy the book- “Bare Hooves and Open Hearts”

If you have enjoyed this blog then please consider buying an author signed paperback copy of my recent book. It contains more of my philosophy on husbandry and training, based on my experience, research and learning. Price includes 2nd class postage to anywhere in Europe. Other regions may cost more- email me and we can always arrange.

£13.99

Thanks for reading.

Bleeding hearts

Another high level dressage competition, another high scoring elimination “under blood rules’. What sort of euphemism is that? The horse was bleeding.

What really got my goat this time was how the rider and the reporter were both so disappointed because at the time the horse was doing a beautiful test?! How can a horse be a happy, unconstrained athlete, appearing to perform of his own volition, and yet be bleeding?

ARTICLE 401 OBJECT AND GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF DRESSAGE- The Horse thus gives the impression of doing, of its own accord, what is required.

Without ‘strict’ adherence to these words, all other descriptions contained in the Article and descriptions contained in the subsequent Articles ‘cannot’ be met.

Top contender eliminated from London Horse Show freestyle under blood rules

FEI Blood Rules

Visible blood from the horse should surely mean a bell rings, instant cessation of participation and disqualification from the competition. How could anyone who loves horses disagree with that?

From the dressage rules on blood-

“at all competitions: If the judge at C suspects fresh blood anywhere on the horse during the test, he/she will stop the horse to check for blood. If the horse shows fresh blood, it will be eliminated

Taken from a powerpoint on the FEI website

Horses do not just bite their tongues or cheeks as if by accident. Mouth lesions, found in 20% of dressage horse at high level competition, are a direct result of horses being ridden in incredibly tight nosebands, with heavy hands creating gaping mouths and lolling tongues, as well as internal mouth injuries that stain the foaming saliva pink.

Despite the rules on horse welfare and the presence of stewards and vets who are there to supposedly enforce the rules, still images like these are still a regular occurrence at any high level dressage competition. Even the uneducated eye, or maybe only the uneducated eye can clearly see that many of these so called highly trained horses look uncomfortable or even in downright pain. Even when there is blood showing, equine insiders still find it acceptable to carry on, or OK to describe it a shame that the horse was eliminated.

Where is the shame that should be felt by any horse loving rider for causing your horse bleed by your own hands?

Rough hands and forceful riding have no place in dressage.

Screen shot from live TV feed Tokyo 2020

Rollkur is still ubiquitous, despite the ban

Gal‘s 2020 horse clearly shows the world how he is trained at home. Screen shot from live TV feed Tokyo 2020

The clear effects of Rollkur training were still obvious both in the GP dressage. These are specialist professional riders at the top of their game, the best in the world- they should be shining samples of good horsemanship and training we can all aspire to. The bleeding horse is based at at a training facility long mired in controversy over bleeding, forceful riding, blue tongues and horses retired prematurely due to mysterious lameness.

Indeed I find myself wondering if these riders are the best in the world at an entirely different sport to the one which I practise at home.

Horse sport, and thus to some extent, leisure horse riding, owes its existence to a social contract. The social contract assumes that the owner and the rider love the horse, that the humans ensure the best possible care for the animal, that they provide the animal with the best possible life in return for the honour of using, not abusing, that animal for human gratification and glory.

“Addressing the Fédération Equestre Internationale (FEI) General Assembly, Roly Owers of the World Horse Welfare recommends that the equestrian community be cognizant of how the public views the use of horses in equestrian sport. Owers recommended that equestrian sport pursue a social license, which is an unwritten, non-binding contract that means society gives horse sport the right to operate.

Owers said that this would build societal trust that horse sport can operate in a transparent and ethical manner.

Owers points out that there is a small contingent of animal rights groups that believes that using the horse for any profit or entertainment is unacceptable. Animal rights groups are transposing animal welfare issues with animal rights issues; animal welfare is about improving the treatment of animals, not banning their interactions with humans.”

Now regular readers will know already that, in my eyes, and proven by science, many of our modern husbandry practises are actually bad for horses and go against their nature.

Those who are uneducated (or un indoctrinated) to equestrian sports seem to see that pain and unnatural movement more clearly than the so called experts and fans.

And even the casual observer can spot blood on their TV screen.

The animal lovers around the world will not tolerate watching horses bleeding on camera for human glory.

As riders and horse lovers and participants in horse sports, we must not tolerate this either.

The FEI needs to enforce their own rules...

Welfare starts with the equipment. Whips are checked- we can’t use whips with stingers only those with more humane soft ended padded flappers (!) but noseband rules are not enforced and sometimes can be seen fastened so tight that the horse can’t breathe or move its tongue.

Screen shot taken from a picture on the competitors own social media feed- photo since removed

Competition Dressage should be first and foremost a beautiful demonstration of the results of good training and its ability to enhance the biomechanical performance of the horse through allowing the horse to be balanced and in self-carriage and appear to make the movements of his own accord seeming effortless.

How can a horse give such an impression if the horse is physically constrained by a tight noseband or the rider pulling on the bridle so much that the horse cannot chew or swallow its own saliva, or that such movement of the jaws cause it to bite its own cheeks?

In order for the horse to give such an impression, the horse should be on the bit, collected, in self-carriage & balanced, with poll highest point and ‘head’ in front of the vertical.

WORD ORIGIN FOR DRESSAGE

French: from Old French dresser – to prepare or set straight”

How it should be- Melissa Simms riding at Egon von Neindorf‘s

Surely it doesn’t take a genius to realise that to the general public, any blood from any animal is distressing? Money pressure and prizes seems to have triumphed over conscience there? If the welfare of the horse is paramount why are we allowing them to bleed for human glory?

And the scourge of Rollkur, Low Deep and Round, Deep Stretching, Yoga for Horses, needs eliminating once and for all. Because for every horse that gets to the Olympics there are hundreds that didn’t stand up to the rigours of unhealthy short cut training. And the physically and psychologically broken horses didn’t all find classically minded amateurs skilled in rehab with deep pockets and love in their hearts to take them on and fix them.

So what can we do?

We the general horse loving amateur can first and foremost lead by example. We can do better at home. We can choose to be kind to our horses. We must be advocates for our horses. We must talk back to coaches who tighten the noseband or instruct us to “make him rounder” or whip our horses into submission.

But everything that we amateurs do better at home will come to naught if high level horse sport continues to be the worst visible example of our passion and obsession.

To preserve our beloved sport and our lifestyle we also need to become activists

If we animal lovers who also ride and compete our horses do not actively campaign to make horse welfare the absolute top priority, at home and away at every single competition, the social contract will be continue to be broken at the very top level and we run the risk that all horse sports will be condemned or banned.

We must write to the FEI and the IOC and our national organisations demanding change. We must ensure that the public image and the reality of equestrian sport at all levels is beyond reproach. Otherwise the more radical animal rights organisations like PETA will make it unacceptable to use horses for sport at all.

Otherwise the bleeding hearts who do put animal welfare above success in sport will agitate to stop us even riding our beloved horses. And then, we will all lose.

#twohearts has been the hashtag chosen for the equestrian sports at the Olympics

Bare Hooves and Open Hearts- Tales from Nelipot Cottage

Signed copy of the book by Nelipot Cottage blog author Fran McNicol, posted to anywhere in the world by second class mail. Deals with various blog themes and topics such as how to keep your horse healthy, happy, sound and barefoot, ethical riding, and holistic horse care.

£13.99

Today We Turn Left

STOP PRESS UNTIL MAY 2022 ALL DONATIONS raised by this blog will go to the Veloo Foundation, feeding and education the children in Mongolia who would otherwise scratch for survival on the refuse tip in UB Mongolia. The link to donate is to be found here http://www.veloofoundation.com/fran-mcnicol.html

Successfully taking THE turn left in the village at that certain corner felt like a milestone of relief and success in the journey that is Rocky’s rehab, or ongoing training.

What do you mean successfully turning left I hear you cry? It’s a simple street corner, you just go around it. What is the big deal?

Well, yes, we do simply go around the corner. But in horse terms there are many ways to go around it. Sideways, backwards, scared, rushing, one step at a time. All of which have achieved the simple objective of getting around the corner, but none of which, in horse training terms, are necessarily a success in terms of simply going around the corner. And there are some special reasons why this corner is so significant.

When you have a horse with severe separation anxiety, every turning or crossing can become a seemingly insurmountable barrier to independent, forwards progress. I have a picture map in my head of obstacles that Rocky and I have gradually overcome.

The first landmark is the main road that we couldn’t cross alone, at least not with me on board. I ‘solved’ this problem by getting off to lead him across the road. I knew I could do this safely because there is a bench 100m further on down the side street that I can then use as a mounting block to get back on.

It then took us a while to leave the environs of the bench. I would get back on and he would go sideways and backwards and anywhere but forwards and therefore further away from home. He had a very strict sense of the precise diameter of his circle of safety around his home base.

The next stage was that he would cross the road with me on top but refuse to pass the bench. A few more weeks of riding out with friends for company and confidence helped us to get the short route around the village nailed until we were able to navigate it alone.

Our other regular route around the village doesn’t involve crossing the main road. We use this as the early training hack for all the young and new horses, because there is no main road to negotiate. Instead, we turn left, tootle through the estate, left again through the immaculate gardens of groomed suburbia and then arrive at the crucial corner- turning right takes us along to the cul de sac which we then use as a turning circle to reverse the route and come home. This circuit is familiar, safe, easy and non threatening.

Turning right at that corner is also turning towards home, as the crow flies, and the horse knows, even though we don’t use it as a way straight home on most of our normal hacking routes.

Horses always know where they are in relation to home. They always know the quickest way home as the crow flies. What they don’t always know is how the road layout goes, or what fences, bridges or rivers might be in the way.

I learned this years ago with Paddy. When we first used to go for our enormous long adventures around Delamere Forest, it was all too easy to get lost. We were on livery there in the good old days, when being able to walk in a wild and beautiful forest was considered entertainment enough, before the forest had to make a profit, and the Forestry Commission put up glossy information signs everywhere, and laid out children’s activity trails and erected huge Gruffalo carvings, and felled vast tranches of trees to make way for the holiday cabins. In those halcyon days, when we got lost, we knew to look over the treetops for the radio mast on the crest of the big hill. Heading for that mast would take you back to the yard and cups of tea and safety.

The Old Pale radio mast- a beacon in more ways than one

Except there was one part of the forest where you couldn’t see the radio mast. And I didn’t know the forest all that well in those early days. And the trails in that deepest, furthest away part of the forest were laid out in overlapping loops rather than a nice logical grid. Mobile phones were in their infancy, we didn’t have 4G or Google maps with a satellite setting that showed you where you were on the paths cut through the forest. All Paddy and I had was each other, in the often fading light.

One day Paddy and I were hopelessly lost, or should I say I was. I remembered back to the old cowboy stories of horses finding their own way home, and I had nothing to lose so I gave him his head and let him choose the direction of travel at each identical forestry trail intersection. And we did indeed get closer and closer to home with each confidently chosen path. The boy was doing fab, he knew exactly where to go.

Until we arrived chest on to the long side of one very large field, marked out by three stranded barbed wire fences, so close yet so far away from the welcome sight of the familiar track that led back to the yard!

I mentally tossed a coin and turned right. The narrow little path that led through the trees around the edge of the field was obviously well travelled by dog walkers albeit no horses. And it led around the field with no more obstacles except the narrow stile (feet up on to the pommel of the saddle to squeeze through) that let us onto the familiar track home.

That moment of choice turned out to be a gift from the universe – the little travelled track opened up a bit, and, running on perfect undulating leaf mould and sandy soil, it became one of our favourite canter tracks. Its remoteness was the key – for many years this propitious find was the last natural surface available for us to canter on as the forest tracks were gradually hard-cored and widened and rolled and stoned and “improved” to allow parents in unsuitable shoes to pay for parking and walk, pushing their thin wheeled city buggies, and then even take Segway tours all over our previously wild and beautiful place.

The forest became a business, that had to turn a profit, rather than a national treasure that had to be protected

But nowadays we are on a different livery yard, on the outskirts of town with the motorways humming in the background, and our local hacking now involves tours of the neat and manicured streets of an affluent and immaculate commuter estate. Think of a British version of Stepford Wives and you would have it down to a tee.

Turning left at the special corner takes us further away from home, towards the cycleway and also our longer looping routes around the countryside. So as well as turning away from home, as the crow flies, away from safety, turning left here also means that more work or effort will be required.

This is the view we see as humans turning left.

The horse however sees a different view.

The horse is crossing his own invisible barrier away from the safe circle of home into dragon country.

More challenges will be encountered on this route out into the country. We often meet pods of competitive road cyclists, racing their own wrist-timers in a pure fug of adrenaline and focused aggression. There are whole families out for a stroll, with screaming toddlers either waddling around or hidden in prams and buggies. Or the baby cyclists, wobbling around erratically on their tiny trikes, often with little control over their direction or destiny.

How the horse sees
For the horse, objects that come from behind, from their blind spot into the area of marginal sight, at speed, are the scariest of all. This is the path the big cat would take when hunting them. and the path many CYCLISTS seem to blithely imitate.

Please spread this graphic around- so many cyclists think they are doing right by creeping up on us carefully and quietly, exactly like a lion would.

Other hazards on these longer countryside routes include the poorly socialised city dogs. Dogs who rarely see horses will be leaping around, straining at their leads or even worse, harrying at the horses heels, barking and yapping furiously, completely unlike our farm dogs who have learnt to carefully ignore the bloody great animals in their midst.

So all in all turning left at the crucial corner is a challenge, for horse and for rider.

My stupid human worry about us having difficulty turning left is ridiculous but not quite spurious. The lady who lives on the bungalow on the crucial corner is really obsessive about her precious postage stamp lawn. And Rocky has reversed onto it, bum almost to the bay windows, traversed the green square sideways in perfect full pass and once cut across it at full pelt, on our previous misadventures. She will graciously accept white wine as a peace offering but I can tell the hoof prints might as well have trampled into her heart.

One of the key tenets of mindfulness is that we must stay in the moment and not allow ourselves to worry about that which has not yet occurred.

So yesterday Rocky and I were striding out boldly in the lead as my friend and companion shouted out “do you want to be on the inside or the outside?”

“We’re just going for it” I called back.

Rocky stepped out, relaised we were going left, tried backwards once, sideways once, but his sturdy and trusty companion carried on straight around the corner on the outside of us and the next thing we knew, we had all turned left.

Easily, successfully, with no stress and no argument and only a tiny little shimmy of anxiety. For the first time since September. For the first time since his back surgery.

Today we turned left.

Thank you as always for reading. I truly appreciate each and every precious glance. To those generous influencers who comment, share the site with friends or help to promote in any other way, I remain eternally grateful. To the supporters willing and able to offer funds, whether small or large, karma is finding its way back to you with a rainbow of horses and abundance beyond your dreams. I welcome each of you to join in our lifelong adventure.

If Only my Horse could Talk…

http://www.veloofoundation.com/fran-mcnicol.html

“If only my horse could talk!”

How many times have we all said those words? In jest, or in despair?

But consider that our horses could be equally frustrated, stamping their feet and tossing their manes and screaming “if only my human could listen”

They don’t actually scream of course. Until it gets really bad and then they need to get really loud.

Amongst themselves horses talk mostly in whispers, a sideways look, a flick of an ear, an imperceptible yield. Horses are naturally very peaceable animals. The equine ethologist Lucy Rees has spent a lifetime observing horses in the wild.

“To understand horses and their difficulties in our hands, we need to watch them as they really are, without anthropomorphic interpretations and expectations”

To this end, she has studied many populations of feral horses in the Americas and Australia, above all in Venezuela, where for years she ran residential ethology courses. These studies led to Horses In Company (2017), a book whose evolutionary perspective revolutionises our view of horse society. She started the Pottoka Project, in which she released a herd of feral Basque ponies in the mountains of north Extremadura, and, with a few volunteers, observes them as they live normal equid lives.

There is a very educational and beautiful series of short films available on her website or via Epona TV

Meet the Pottoka

For me, her most astonishing finding is that, in an environment in which there is no resource shortage, horses exhibit virtually no conflict behaviour. I have written about this before, against the context of that other pervasive myth, the alpha male.

The Myth of the Alpha

This is a lesson that I thought I had learned already. but as the saying goes, until you truly know something, and take that truth to heart and actually act on that truth, you don’t really know that something.

The last year and a half have been really tricky for me and Rocky. I previously told the story of his initial diagnosis of a sore back. His time off and six months of slow and careful rehab,

The Rocky Road to Rehab

coincided with my change in personal circumstances. However, as we got back into consistent work there was no real improvement to his behaviour. His back looked and felt perfect, with improving muscle coverage and no sore spots, but his behaviour remained erratic and I was still getting regular reminders on the inevitability of gravity.

I had him scoped him for ulcers a couple of years ago. The rationale at the time was partly to check out his behaviour, but also based on the fact that at the time he was a full 100kg lighter than his two equally classy sisters

The scope was essentially clear. The vets looked at me wth sceptical cocked eyebrows when I explained my reasons for scoping him; if you don’t actually know his sisters, he is big enough and looks like a strapping lad and he didn’t look unhealthy at the time, but I was the client and it was my money.

He had some very mild traces of inflammation, but no true ulceration. They didn’t push me to treat him formally and were quite happy when I said I would organise an empirical trial of treatment with the well known blue granules that one can buy online from America. He did put some good weight on, so I thought the ulcers must be better, and so we never re-scoped. And his behaviour never changed- he was still occasionally obstreperous but nothing one wouldn’t expect or excuse from a young horse?

Extra bit of information required here- on the ground he is the sweetest, most affectionate horse you could imagine. He loves people and loves a good fuss.

Because he had previously been scoped clear, with no behavioural benefit following on from that half hearted trial of treatment (isn’t the retrospect-oscope a wonderful instrument), the possibility of continuing ulcers just didn’t enter my brain. I am a very literal thinker, and my brain really only works in lists and straight lines, so in my head, ulcers was ticked off, as was back. All that was left was learned behaviour and an athletic and strong minded horse that I had to decide if I was capable of riding.

I bought Rocky as a yearling. He has the most beautiful paces I have ever sat on. Had I not bought him as a youngster, I would never have been able to afford his Olympic standard genetics. For those of you who are into bloodlines, he is by Royaldik.

Heraldik xx is a very well known sire to all eventing fans- Ingrid Klimke’s Butts Abraxas, Andreas Dibowski’s Butts Leon, and Sam Griffith’s Happy Times are all among top flight horses sired by Heraldik.

At WEG in 2010, Heraldik had 3 offspring in the Eventing and 2 in the Show Jumping. Heraldik had a full sister Herka, and Royaldik is out of Herka. And Royaldik’s full brother Rohdiamant is also the WBFSH world number 3 dressage stallion.

So my gorgeous little baby Rocky

is quite simply the most well bred horse I am ever likely to own. Particularly as his famous relatives have proved to be functional as well as flash, with the confirmation to withstand a busy life at top level competition.

I remember vividly teaching Cal to jump. Until he learned to canter, and developed the bulk of muscle required to carry his draught bone along the ground let alone up, jumping an 80cm oxer always felt like a lottery.

By contrast, Rocky can be looking at everything else, going sideways and then just pop the same fence as a minor inconvenience as it appears in his path.

All of which is a very long winded way of saying I wasn’t gong to give up on that feeling without a fight. It’s addictive, sitting on a horse that gives you a feeling of such ease over a fence.

It’s not quite so addictive, hitting the ground on a regular basis.

As I tell this story now it is so fricking obvious that I am cringing as I type these words. I share this story, as brutally and as honestly as I can, to help you avoid similar obstinate mistakes, and to spare your horse having to shout quite so loudly.

Rocky had severe separation anxiety. He was dramatically reactive to all new situations, to horses coming up behind us, to getting a bit too far away from other horses, to a gate closing. He would freeze out on hacks, at invisible obstacles. His reaction to any unexpected stimulus was to dump me and run.

He had been scoped for ulcers. His back was now fine. We had checked the saddle situation and solved it with a gorgeous Stride Free Jump.

So I decided we needed remedial training. My long term local eventing instructor helped me with the riding and the training and we lunged him “thoroughly” before we got on to establish forwards, and we taught him that forwards was required before all else.

And he did become more rideable. I gave it my best shot. I rode him 5 days a week, every week, all winter, through the dark and the cold and the rain. I sent Cal away on loan so I had the time to concentrate on Rocky. We had regular lessons and outings. And he did come on really well. He put on muscle, his back improved, his canter got stronger. But he still bucked.

Then one week in mid January he put me on the floor three times in the same week. And there were no mitigating factors. He had done enough work, there were no scary things out there, I was riding at my usual time, in my normal routine. The same week he booted the part time groom in the chest and shook her up really badly.

And I just knew I couldn’t do it any more. I couldn’t ride him, we couldn’t keep him safely here. I searched my heart and I made arrangements for him to go on sales livery. And was absolutely at peace with that decision. I think a few of my friends were even quite relieved.

I had a couple of weeks to spare before he could go, and Patrice, my long term mentor and classical dressage instructor, suggested I scope him once more. It made sense. I couldn’t conscientiously sell a sick horse, and I would be gutted if I sold my horse of a lifetime because he was too quirky for me and then found out someone else had treated him and he turned out to be a poppet under saddle too.

Of course he had ulcers. Really bad ulcers. Multiple lesions, several grade 3, lots of grade 2 and significant amounts of fibrin deposits and areas of irritation.

OK I thought, I’ll treat him but he’s still going. Once he’s healed, he’s still for sale.

Then lockdown happened, about two weeks into his ulcer treatment.

And he’s not a horse you could leave out of work altogether, his brain is quite active and he does find mischief.

So I had to ride him…..just light hacking, in company., to keep him ticking over and his brain occupied….nothing challenging….

He got better, and better. The bucking objections turned into leg flicks and stalls, then just to ear flicks. He hacked out on his own, with no trouble at previously nappy corners. We could cross the main road ( a major barrier previously) and go around the whole village. We had to stop occasionally and check out things like a scarf left on a street sign but he looked and worked it out whereas before he would have dumped me and run away. We even did the long circuit under the railways bridges and went past the scary white log on the bridle path on our own, after a few looks and a couple of reverses. But they were only reverses, not gymnastics. And I could feel his brain working it all out rather than his body reacting.

I’m still an idiot. And we were still in lockdown. As we couldn’t do the second check scope at the time I let his meds run down to see what would happen. About a week after the PPI ran out and the day after the Misoprostol finished, I swung my leg into the saddle and instantly felt like I was sitting on a different horse.

I had to prove it of course. I am still an idiot. He dropped me in the school so I got back on and we went around the block. It was tense but manageable. Until we got back inside the gate and then he tried to drop me on the concrete.

Se we started the meds again. It took a few weeks to get back to lovely horse again. But he had been very clear- and yes the lesson obviously needed re-iterating.

My horse doesn’t have behaviour problems. He has pain problems.

And I am genuinely ashamed that he had to get to a point of shouting out his pain so loudly at me that I put both of us in danger.

“If only my human could listen.”

sic ‘nothing one wouldn’t expect or excuse from a young horse.’

Question- how much of bad horse behaviour is actually pain?

He has just been re-scoped. The ulcers look much better. We are still only on light work but he is putting on huge amounts of muscle. He is currently off the transfer list!

Part 2 to follow in a few months.

Thank you as always for reading. I truly appreciate each and every one of you. To those influencers who comment, share the site with friends or help to promote in any other way, I remain eternally grateful. To those supporters generous and able to offer funds, whether small or large, karma is finding its way back to you with a rainbow of horses and abundance beyond dreams. Thank you all for joining in the adventure.

nelipot-cottage

Nelipot Cottage is a Pay as you Feel Endeavour- if you have enjoyed reading this article and/or found it useful then please consider making a small donation towards ad-free hosting costs. Thank you

£2.50

Learning how to Breathe…properly

http://www.veloofoundation.com/fran-mcnicol.html

We all know how to do it, right? We all breathe, all day, every day and every night. Taking a breath is the first thing we do as our physical bodies arrive into this world, and the last thing we will do before we leave it. So why are so many of us so bad at breathing? Why are you even bothering to read this article, about learning how to breathe…properly?

Learning how to breathe… properly, is the first practical step to living-in-the-here-and-now

Learning how to breathe…properly, is the first step in the mindfulness practice that will help to free your mind from the emotions and dramas your body creates.

What Is Mindfulness?

“Mindfulness is the practice of becoming aware of one’s present-moment experience with compassion and openness as a basis for wise action.”

“Mindfulness means maintaining a moment-by-moment awareness of our thoughts, feelings, bodily sensations, and surrounding environment, through a gentle, nurturing lens.

Mindfulness also involves acceptance, meaning that we pay attention to our thoughts and feelings without judging them—without believing, for instance, that there’s a “right” or “wrong” way to think or feel in a given moment. When we practice mindfulness, our thoughts tune into what we’re sensing in the present moment rather than rehashing the past or imagining the future.”

It’s really hard to do most sports or tricky activities without learning how to breathe…properly. Learning to breathe…properly, in the rhythm or technique specific to that activity is part of the technical challenge that leads to excellence. For example, the very precise breathing rhythm associated with a good front crawl, with choral singing, with long distance running, or with playing a wind instrument. There are more advanced techniques such as circular breathing techniques, for a didjeridoo, or the breathing without moving that I demand from a good laparoscopic camera person!

No one ever taught me to breathe properly while I am operating- it took me years to realise that I hold my breath for tricky bits of adhesiolysis, and brace my left knee for hours. I am now so used to holding my breath when I concentrate that it is usually the pain in my knee that brings me back to reality, not the gentle gasping for oxygen associated with prolonged low level hypoxia….

My horsey friends will all joke that we hold our breath for the show jumping element of eventing. 9 fences, about 45 seconds, it is easy to allow our breathing to get tight and shallow due to nerves. Not quite so easy to manage a full 5 minute cross country course without taking a proper breath…talking to the pony helps there.

It is impossible to develop a meditation practise without breathing well. The first part of learning to meditate is learning to focus on the breath.

Why meditate?

For me, the hardest part of learning to meditate was learning to breathe…properly

Breathe in deeply. Let the air gently fill your lungs. Pause, then release. Feel the tension in your shoulders drift away. Inhale again, then exhale… yeah….right…..

The more I thought about my breathing pattern, the more erratic and evasive a good deep breath became. I play a wind instrument, so I’m really good at controlled breathing out, but bizarrely not so good at slow breathing in; in breaths were a short sharp gasp (get as much in as you can) for the next complicated passage of notes.

Yoga helped a bit, as did Pilates. In class, I am always the dork at the back, out of sequence, out of balance and out of breath.

As with everything else, meditation skills improve with practise. I set my alarm for 7 minutes at first, which felt like an eternity after 2, and I just sat on my mat, not quite Vaipassana Lotus style, because my hips don’t go there yet, but cross legged with upwards facing palms.

I have to really count my breathing, like a metronome- in for 3, hold for 3, out for 3, hold for 3, etc etc. I can do a relatively slow count of 3 consistently. I can do 5s for a bit but I can’t sustain that pattern easily enough to let the clock tick down. Counts of 3 allow me to get into a theta brain wave pattern.

Theta brain waves explained

As wit many other skills, the important thing initially is just to do the practise, in a state of mind that doesn’t care about the result. Some days it can feel like I am just going through the motions, or even going through my to do list. In the beginning I used to get so impatient I would have to peak at the clock and then be disgusted to find that only two minutes had passed.

And then gradually something strange started to happen. The alarm going off would take me by surprise. I would feel like I had nodded off, but I knew I hadn’t really been asleep. I would drift back into my body to find myself completely relaxed, in lotus position! Turns out I was getting good at this mediation thing!

Signs you went into meditation

And then one day driving to work I felt myself experience such profound joy that I wanted to sing out to the world. It’s hard to explain pure joy. It’s not justa mood. It’s not an “I feel happy”. It’s not laughter, or smiles, it’s not a “body feeling good” after a brisk walk in the fresh air. It’s a profound upswelling of well being that has no basis in the experience of that day so far. It comes from nowhere, yet totally changes the light of the day.

And that feeling of joy is why I now try to meditate every day.

Just try it…you might surprise yourselves.

And if nothing else, you will finally be learning how to breathe….properly, for which your horses can only be grateful.

Live in joy. in love,
Even among those who hate.

Live in joy, in health.
Even among the afflicted.

Live in joy, in peace,
Even among the troubled.

Look within. Be still.
Free from fear and attachment,
Know the sweet joy of the way.

—The Buddha, from the Dhammapada, Thomas Byrom, translator

Pay as you feel

Living in the Here and Now

http://www.veloofoundation.com/fran-mcnicol.html

“There are only two days in the year that nothing can be done. One is called Yesterday and the other is called Tomorrow. Today is the right day to Love, Believe, Do and mostly Live.”

I have been reading Eckart Tolle’s The Power of Now. I have to say it is the slowest read of a book I haven’t yet given up on. This is because the concepts are completely foreign to the control freak, overthinking part of me. Due to a fear of loss of security in my life, I have always tried to micro manage every moment. I have lived nearly every minute either ahead of or behind myself, wallowing in the paralysis of “what if?” or agonising about “How do I prevent that? What can I do that will stop that happening?”

Living in the here and now is a strange and alien concept.

https://www.wanderlustworker.com/how-to-be-present-the-5-steps-for-living-in-the-here-and-now/

That micro managed place where we are avoiding excess discomfort can become a place of limitation and challenge avoidance. It doesn’t necessarily prevent high performance. That’s a relative concept. But it does limit potential peak performance.

I love high adrenaline activities. But drip feed adrenaline…not the dare devil activities where you completely surrender control but those where you saunter along the knife edge proving how controlled you can be, choosing the move, every next minute…..until you really aren’t in control at all, and you finally have to deal with living in the here and and now.

As Mark Twain said, “I have known a great many troubles, but most of them never happened.”

We cannot change the past, and we cannot prevent the future. All we can do is make the most of the present moment, informed by the past, and a series of best present moments will then build up to become a brighter future…if we are careful enough to wish it so.

Our wishes will come true…whether we like it or not.

Change is inevitable- be careful what you wish for

top ten tips to start living in the here and now

The big horse has challenged me in ways I would never have thought possible. I love riding, I love horses, I ride because I breathe. Ever since I was a tiny child I have dreamed of having my own horses and riding them every day, of schooling them from scratch, of transforming them from clumsy awkward novices to beautiful, elastic, supple unicorns. I have never been without horses to ride, never been in a situation where I wasn’t rushing home from work to get an extra session in, rain or hail or shine.

Imagine then having to psych yourself up to get on the big horse. Imagine having to talk yourself into doing the very thing that has always brought you joy. Imagine driving home from work on a windy evening, making excuses in your head, thinking “Oh, I might leave it today, it’s a bit windy, he might be a bit naughty, maybe I’d better not tempt fate…” we say it for a gale first of all, then a blustery day, then a light breeze…until

Suddenly happens over a long time

suddenly, we never seem to get on our horse.

On those days of doubt and fears maybe we need to square up to our gremlins and ask ourselves

What is the worst thing that can happen?

and then we need to JFDI (medic speak for Just F*cking Do It)

Fear setting was a new concept to me until last year.

We are taught goal setting from an early age. Positive thinking is important. But if we ignore the darkness, if we ignore the abyss of fear and dread, it will bite us at the most inopportune moments.

Fear setting was a key part of the process that enabled me to leave my previous “dream life”. I asked myself “what’s the worst thing that could happen?” It turned out that staying unhappy was a much greater than stepping out into the unknown.

Positive thinking increases the likelihood of positive outcomes. But when the outcome is not so positive, how we cope with that eventuality is the space where we learn resilience.

Resilience is the ability to be happy, successful, etc. again after something difficult or bad has happened

Put simply, when facing a new challenge, what is the worst thing that can happen to you?

For a few months, I found myself avoiding new situations with the big horse. He is incredibly athletic, and has possibly put me on the floor more times than all the others combined! But I know this; I never yet get on him without a body protector, and a hard hat, and I know now that he needs regular, strenuous, work…like a stroppy teenager, he is better behaved when well exercised. I was avoiding challenging, stretch zone situations, keeping us within our narrow comfort zone, which meant that our comfort zone never expanded and we never got into our learning zone.

I asked myself “what is the worst thing that could happen”? Answer in my head turned out to be that he could ditch me in front of a load of strangers… well guess what? He’s done that loads!! We got the shiniest poshest rosette of my equestrian life for the most spectacular dismount, at riding club camp last year. That worst case scenario has already happened, so nothing left to be afraid of there….

So what else am I afraid of? What else might happen?

You never know- it could go really well…Like our jumping lesson tonight. Yes there were shenanigans. Yes we made mistakes. Yes he tested me. But the outcome??? I stayed in the plate (hurrah) and he came on in leaps and bounds, literally. I learned that I have to turn on a forwards feeling, without pulling the inside rein, (finally that lesson went in).

We just have to turn up, daily, and do the thing. We just have to believe that learning occurs in the stretch zone, for human and horse, and that although it may not always be pretty, it’s only by doing too much that we learn what is enough. We have to believe in ourselves, to be willing to expand our skill set but also to forgive ourselves and learn from our mistakes. We have to be non judgemental about our mistakes, observe them with wry amusement and do differently next time.

Differently, not better. Better is a judgement. And above all, we have to keep showing up, living in the here and now.

“Over the course of our lives, situations will arise that can sometimes seem insurmountable. When I’m faced with obstacles and life seems really difficult, my unconditional love for myself gives me the strength to continue. I greet the ups and downs of life’s journey with unconditional love for myself and the people in my life by understanding that I am only truly alive in the present moment; the future is a projection that does not yet exist. As long as there is life, everything is possible. Practice with awareness, remember to love yourself and others unconditionally when the road gets tough. Only through love can you overcome obstacles with peace.”

– Miguel Ruiz Jr.

“Perhaps our dreams are there to be broken, and our plans are there to crumble, and our tomorrows are there to dissolve into todays, and perhaps all of this is all a giant invitation to wake up from the dream of separation, to awaken from the mirage of control, and embrace whole-heartedly what is present. Perhaps it is all a call to compassion, to a deep embrace of this universe in all its bliss and pain and bitter-sweet glory. Perhaps we were never really in control of our lives, and perhaps we are constantly invited to remember this, since we constantly forget it. Perhaps suffering is not the enemy at all, and at its core, there is a first-hand, real-time lesson we must all learn, if we are to be truly human, and truly divine. Perhaps breakdown always contains breakthrough. Perhaps suffering is simply a right of passage, not a test or a punishment, nor a signpost to something in the future or past, but a direct pointer to the mystery of existence itself, here and now. Perhaps life cannot go ‘wrong’ at all.”

Jeff Foster

nelipot-cottage

Nelipot Cottage is a Pay as you Feel Endeavour- if you have enjoyed reading this article and/or found it useful then please consider making a small donation towards ad-free hosting costs. Thank you

£2.50

Learning Our Horses’ Alphabet

Learning our alphabet is the first step of learning any language. And dressage is no different. Except that learning our alphabet isn’t quite the right phrase, really we need to be learning our horses’ alphabet.

As horses are movement itself, and the best way to access a horse’s brain is through his body, learning our horses’ alphabet actually means learning the alphabet of our horses’ movement.

First, the gaits. The step pattern, the footfalls, the sequence of pure gaits. How will we know if we have a pure walk or a good quality canter if we don’t know what the pure gaits consist of?

Humans are born with the ability to make every common sound heard in every language, from the Welsh ttthhh to the Xhosi nk. Babies learn, by imitation, to repeat the sounds they hear the most around them; they perfect those, the voicebox adapts and they may lose the ability to create other language sounds.

I learned to speak French in the Ecrins mountains when I was 10. I have a regional accent that most native French can pinpoint to that area, and I always get a very warm welcome when I go back to that region.

Glacier des Violettes- the best mountain HVS in the world runs up to the left of the glacier- Ailefroide

But there is one telling detail that a true linguist would spot, one omission- my rrrrrr is weak. I can just about roll my rrrr, but not quite like a native.

In the same way, horses are born with every variation of every gait at their disposal. Some will come easier than others, some are bred selectively, such as the tolt or the pacing gait, but all foals can do all gaits at the beginning. They learn first by copying their mothers, and their peer group, which gaits are the easiest for day to day life. And then in training, we reward them for the four pure dressage gaits, and every variation thereof. But we can only do that if we know how the four pure gaits are meant to look , feel and sound.

A young Milton with Caroline Powell- brought on slowly and correctly to become the world’s most successful show jumper

The reason these specifically defined pure gaits have been selected as the most desirable over the centuries is because time has shown that these gaits are the most efficient for the horse to carry a rider in a healthy biomechanical posture.

And we have to understand that aberrations of these gaits are not healthy, and should not be ignored, let alone rewarded. How many lateral walks do we see in FEI dressage tests, not only ignored but scored highly, against the directives?

Then we need to remember that horses are born crooked. Just as humans are born right handed or left handed, the symmetrical, perfectly balanced horse has not yet been born.

Training is therefore first rehabilitation, followed by therapy, and finally it can become gymnastic.

To complete the training of the dressage horse we need to be able to speak to his body in sentences, in combinations of aids that combine targeted exercises and accurate patterns to enable the horse to develop strength and suppleness.

CDK talks about the daily vocabulary of training; like a virtuoso musician practising their scales every day, a trainer must help the horse to run through his full physical repertoire every session- all bends, all gaits, every length of neck, every length of stride, all directions of travel.

Run through, not drill.

Simple repetition does not bring about improvement- targeted focus does. When doing scales we did them fast, slow, staccato, slurred, syncopated da deee and deee da, forwards and backwards. Every variation, to avoid strain and boredom.

The quality of each movement will vary according to the horse’s level of training, but a fragment of each exercise will be possible in every horse from the very beginning.

This can be achieved from the ground, in hand, or from the saddle.

The brilliance in the virtuoso comes from a solid foundation, from the long hours spent perfecting the details of the basics.

Perfect practise makes perfect.

So know your horse’s alphabet, and help him to write three dimensional poetry in motion.

Make the Mental Transition to “I can”

We must make sure that we do not inadvertently teach ourselves to fail regularly in our training. It is important that we learn to make the mental transition to” I can”.

I heard a story this weekend about a very high achieving golfer. Every time he takes a lesson to improve one aspect of his game he goes out, applies the lesson and plays much better. Instead of being pleased that he has played better, he then looks for the gaps in his recent good game, focusses on those, practises those aspects which he has not improved and then goes out and so has a horrible time again. Essentially he has trained himself to fail, repetitively.

Golf and dressage have much in common.

Golf swing fundamentals

We must train ourselves to bank the good stuff first, especially in riding where there are two sentient beings involved in the encounter. I’m not saying that we shouldn’t learn from our mistakes; reflection, adjustment and testing is a key part of experiential learning of a practical skill. But we must learn just as much if not more from our successes.

I have started videoing myself riding more regularly. A friend once made the comment that high definition video is the most brutal feedback anyone needs. I don’t have hi-def capability but a mobile phone propped up on the arena fence is effective enough.

The first time I watch the video I am always appalled. I look like cooked spaghetti, what are my legs doing there, what on earth makes me think I can ride….

Then I look at it again and watch the horse…and generally there are some nice moments. And I have to remind myself that if the horse is improving then I can’t be that bad…

If the horse wasn’t improving, I would possibly have appalled myself so much that I would have given up. I am my own worst critic.

Do as I say, not as I do!!

But luckily for me the grey horse loves the nitty gritty of training, and loves the way good work makes his body feel. Which means he loves me.

If we want to improve a movement or an exercise then we have to pick one aspect to work on. We can’t just “try it again” and hope something will improve globally by accident. Practise doesn’t make perfect, perfect practise makes perfect. So you have to be consciously competent enough to choose one aspect that you can change to improve the overall performance of the task. A bit like teaching surgery….

Which means we have to choose other aspects to leave alone, or even better, aspects to keep because they are already good.

So for example; I’m doing trot halt, rein back, trot, transitions in step sequences of four. Four because even numbers make it predictable for the horse so the transitions should occur with less resistance. (That bit is magic, don’t question it, it just is, even number of steps for predictability, odd number of steps when you want change).

I ask myself what I can do….generally I can count to four, the transitions occur when asked, the rein back is diagonal, the line of travel is straight, the trot out has lovely oomph.

What do I want to improve? Lets just say one thing- the softness of the topline, for now.

Do I throw all the good qualities away just to focus on the topline? Do I say topline first and foremost, at whatever cost, no matter how many steps, no matter if it’s straight, …

Or do I try and add another quality to the good stuff I have already?

I have written before about how essential positive feedback is to the horse if you want to keep him on side. The horse is never allowed to think he made a mistake.

Every Opportunity to Praise

Imagine how dispiriting it would be for a horse if, every time he does a movement or an exercise, to the best of his ability, exactly as you have aided it (because again that is the truth) and you say “No, no, that was terrible, it was all wrong, we have to do it again, we are just so rubbish!”

He wouldn’t keep trying for very long would he?

Imagine if, instead of saying “we just can’t do that”,

you made the transition to thinking I can,

if we thought “We can do that even better! We can do that more like an advanced horse. What’s the most we can do?’….in the example, “What is the best most elevated and elongated topline we can do that rein back in? How would Granat feel doing that reinback?”

What is the maximum we can ask for?

Not demand…that’s different. If we ask for the absolute maximum possible that we can imagine, the horse will give is the maximum he is capable of, in that moment, and he might just surprise himself and you!

Our limited expectations can limit our horse’s potential. I know I am often guilty of trying to make every step the best step, when sometime it just needs to be the next step. Sometime we just need to make progress, in the work and across the arena.

Dinner needs to get cooked!

Never mind if the balance goes awry, what is the biggest length of stride the horse can offer?

What is the longest neck he can keep that balance on without going splat? He has to go splat at least once for you to find out the answer to that question. If he doesn’t go splat how do you know you have asked enough? Obviously you ask for a touch less next time.

And then the next time you pick another aspect.

So in my example; yesterday I worked on quality of topline. And the response to the aids also improved. Today I worked on responsiveness to the aids (and topline came for free with a few repetitions). Tomorrow I will need to find a different sequence or a different usage of that lesson (pretend piaffe/passage transitions with rein back legs maybe, or what does reinback leg do to the canter walk transition) otherwise I am drilling my horse, and sucking all of the joy out of his psyche.

So to get the best out of out horses, we need to learn to make the transition to “I can”.

To I can do the most magnificent trot, halt, rein back, trot that I can imagine, with this fabulous horse I am lucky enough to be riding in this moment. The horse doesn’t know this is a difficult exercise, he just hears your thoughts, well before your aids.

So make those thoughts worth listening to. Make him feel magnificent.

The magic is in the transition- when every possibility is available, everything is possible.

And teach yourself and your horse to succeed, a little more every day.

Share this:

Like this:

aka Expert syndrome

Life would be awesome if there was a magic bullet,

I don’t claim to be an expert...

And there are equestrian magicians out there.

So, how do we tell the difference between expertise and ‘experts”?

Would you want your horse to look like that?

Would your horse let them ride him?

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

ARTICLE 401 OBJECT AND GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF DRESSAGE- The Horse thus gives the impression of doing, of its own accord, what is required.

FEI Blood Rules

Rollkur is still ubiquitous, despite the ban

The Social Contract

The FEI needs to enforce their own rules...

So what can we do?

To preserve our beloved sport and our lifestyle we also need to become activists

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

“If only my horse could talk!”

“If only my human could listen.”

Share this:

Like this:

What Is Mindfulness?

Breathe in deeply. Let the air gently fill your lungs. Pause, then release. Feel the tension in your shoulders drift away. Inhale again, then exhale… yeah….right…..

Live in joy. in love,Even among those who hate.

Live in joy, in health.Even among the afflicted.

Live in joy, in peace,Even among the troubled.

Look within. Be still.Free from fear and attachment,Know the sweet joy of the way.

—The Buddha, from the Dhammapada, Thomas Byrom, translator

Share this:

Like this:

Fear setting was a new concept to me until last year.

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Live in joy. in love,
Even among those who hate.

Live in joy, in health.
Even among the afflicted.

Live in joy, in peace,
Even among the troubled.

Look within. Be still.
Free from fear and attachment,
Know the sweet joy of the way.