Heart to the Sky

Well, I ride Morris really well in the walk.

The trot… we’re working on it.

I’m not sure why, but it’s almost like I get on a horse I don’t know very well, and forget everything. I don’t know what that is. But when exhorted to rise from my hips rather than my legs — which I do perfectly naturally on Amigo and Rebel — it was like it was new information.

If the mind forgets, then at least the muscles remember, and as soon as I was told to do everything [that I already know how to do], I did them, and things got better.

In the exhortation — elbows in, hands down, rise from the hip, etc — also came the recommendation: heart to the sky.

I lifted my heart to the sky. It not only helped my posture, but it made me feel good all over. Lighter. More open. More confident.

Heart to the sky. I think I’ll walk down the road that way.

Oh, By the Way

You couldn’t move around here for being faced with announcements about the imminence of my debut novel, Drama Queen.

Er, well, I’ve got a second book coming out, uh, on Thursday. The Fidelity Project is suffering from ’second child’ syndrome, in which, after the fluttering and fear-of-dropping, and pinning nappies backwards of the first one, the second is more like, ‘Oh, right, there you are.’ I suspect, not only not having any kids, but also having been the first-born.

ANYWAY. Do buy it, and enjoy!

Personal Growth Opportunity

Tuesday was blowy. Like, gale force winds that seemed to take as their focus the indoor arena.

Sure, we’re up in the mountains, but there had been no indication in town that the air was in any way assuming hurricane proportions. When the door of the taxi just about blew off upon my exit at the centre, it came as a complete surprise. I stood outside the barn, and it felt like the wind was coming from all four directions, relentlessly.

No way was I taking Rebel in this. I opted for Delilah. We had a perfectly good lesson, she was full of go, and I sat her bockity canter without too much trouble.

I got off, got home, and realised that I had been slightly… bored?

Rollercoaster! Woo Ooo Ooo Oo!

I stood, somewhat grimly, at the doors of the arena. It was Saturday, and I didn’t know what my answer would be to the question: ‘Who do you want?’

I had ridden Rebel on the previous Thursday. We hadn’t had a lesson on Tuesday, due to Paddy’s Day, and after having felt so successful on Morris, I felt I could ride Reb in a private lesson. I felt I had to, had to eradicate the memory of that rotten day, and that reckless buck-and-run. I talked about it throughout the lesson, and it reinforced the wisdom of talking about my experiences with experienced people, and I got this nugget that I hope to remember as necessary: you never stop learning with horses. Even if — when! — I have my own horse, anything could happen, the horse changes, I change, and that it’s a learning curve that is always… curving.

Nevertheless… I wasn’t all that sure that I wanted to ride Rebel that day.

Rollercoaster. Of Love.

It’s the Monday after my rodeo show with Rebel. I’m still annoyed and unhappy, and now I’m heading off to ride the Big Horse with No Bit.

Adjustments

Yeah, afraid of getting cocky. My ability to stay ’sat’ last Saturday started out with luck, and ended through the grace of muscle memory and the sheer repetition of having been told to Sit back! for two and a half years.

I could feel a difference, though, in my body. When I got down after the circus performance, I was standing, and it was all coming from my hips.

Since that day, I’ve been aware of how far forward I lean when I walk, and how much I slump when I sit. When I tuck my elbows in at my sides, my entire torso lifts. When I tilt that bit backwards when I walk, I feel entirely centred in my pelvis. I look at my shadow as I walk along the pavement, and there’s not like, six inches of difference, even though it feels like that.

It’s almost as if I have been forced, through anger and annoyance, to really get into my centre of gravity. And it’s not just about adjusting my posture, but my attitude as well.

I’m constantly being told to let the horse know who’s boss, but what about the instructors? They’re the boss of me when I’m up there, but I’m the client, and if I’m not comfortable riding a horse, then it’s up to me to say so. So I need to be my own best friend in that regard.

I need to ride every single step. I’m told this in almost every private lesson lately, and I cop to drifting off and assuming that Rebel will just do what needs to be done. I’ve been talking about how ‘present moment’ horse riding is, and it still is, but I’m not taking all the responsibility I ought.

And finally, I am going to keep this promise to myself: that I wasn’t going to get back on Rebel until I talked about that last few sessions with someone. Because I’m not going to ride a horse I don’t trust. I’m not going to be shamed into doing something that is effecting my confidence. I refuse to start the slide down the slippery slope of stopping riding because I’m intimidated. I intend to keep doing this — time to begin [again] as I intend to go on.

Enough is Enough

I haven’t written about the last few Saturdays because they have been so utterly bad, I had a lot of processing to do.

Living up to his name is nothing new, but Rebel has exceeded himself lately. I take responsibility for not being able to manage him, but there’s a fine line between my inability to do so, and whether or not the possibility even exists.

What’s the Problem?

So, in my own inimitable way, I’ve started telling people, should they ask, ‘Yeah, well, I ride three times a week at one place, and one time a week at another place.’

Uh. What?

Some Things I Would Like to Say…

BUT WILL NEVER, EVER SAY

‘Yes. Yes. I understand what you’re telling me. Yes, I can hear you, and intellectually, what you’re saying makes total sense. Intuitively, maybe not. It’s hard to imagine that if my horse is dropping his inside shoulder while we’re cantering a circle, that if I open up the inside rein, he will straighten up. I am positive that you are correct. You do, of course, know more than I do. But right this second, on this animal, I feel like, if I open the rein, WE ARE GOING TO SPIN AND SPIN AND DIG A FECKIN’ HOLE TO CHINA!!!!!’

‘I understand that the thing I am doing is wrong. I realise that this horse is not like that horse, and that — even though you’re not saying this exactly, I know that you’re thinking it — if my seat were better, and if my balance were better, then I would be riding this horse better, and it wouldn’t matter that he feels so remarkable, shockingly different but I AM NOT A PROFESSIONAL HORSEPERSON AND IT TAKES ME A FEW LESSONS BEFORE I GET USED TO A NEW HORSE!!!!!’

‘Thank you for your feedback. I’m sure it must be frustrating, watching people do the same thing incorrectly, over and over and over. I sure it must make you completely crazy to think that nothing is sinking in. It is certainly frustrating for me, making progress in one area and falling back in others! The thing is, though, that I think I’m in a weird place, that I’m on the cusp of hopefully making an excellent advancement in my riding and all I ask is that YOU PLEASE UNDERSTAND THAT I’VE ONLY BEEN DOING THIS FOR TWO AND HALF YEARS!’

‘I do take this seriously, and I wouldn’t be riding three times a week [four] if I didn’t. But, for me, the WHOLE POINT OF THIS IS THAT IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE FUN!’

Whew. Needed to get that off my chest. All better now.

His Inner Pony

Spring is in the air, and I think much of it is being channelled through Rebel’s hooves.