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This is still a good lesson – yes, even and especially the part that happened in the actual arena — and I did a quick scan of the last few years and realised that the stronger I get [mind, body, spirit] the less hard I have to work. There’s a difference between working hard and working well, and the latter only comes with repetition and practice and breakthroughs and mistakes and plateaus. And those last two are the frustrating places where the transformations take place…

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So, despite my promise to write about the myriad books I’ve read about horses, and natural horsemanship, and the esoterica of the mythology of the horse, etc, I haven’t, but believe me when I say that I’ve read a lot. I read before I rode. I read before I do just about anything, to be honest. So I’ve been through your Monty Roberts, your Linda Kohanov, your Chris Irwin, your Linda Tellington-Jones. I’ve absorbed the teachings, and would have been trying them out, all this time, but hey, no horse, and it’s unfair to schoolies to give them a little bit of something without consistency. I’ve ridden a variety of horses over the past two and a half years — I think the count may be up to fourteen? Fifteen? — and I haven’t encountered the kind of horse I’ve been reading about, the kind that is sensitive to me, as rider and as person, and who will demonstrate, to me, in a holistic, yet non-nonsense, and if I’m being truthful, creepily prescient way, how I need to grow.

I’ve never met that horse, until now, and it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Read the rest of this entry »

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‘WHAT DID I JUST SAY?’ As a media professional, I should probably know more about Jurassic World than I do, which is mainly not much, which is because I squealed and jumped and hid my eyes so much during Jurassic Park that I am maybe too scared to go see it.

Then the internet lead me down the garden path via the clip of Pratt ‘doing’ his acting faces in the movie [funny] to the trailer itself [okay, so, that lady that got snatched up by a flying thing? Ahhhhhh] to a featurette [boring] to a scene in which Owen Grady [Irish!] rescues somebody who’s fallen into the raptor pit.

I had no idea Pratt was playing a dino whisperer. The scene is like, basically every day with horses: don’t do something bad that they’ll remember, but don’t taken any sh*t from them either. Use firm, declarative sentences, don’t be afraid, and don’t leave on a bad note. This is like Monty Roberts for prehistoric reptiles. Cool!

Screen Shot 2015-06-12 at 13.03.58

Hey – hey!

^ And then he says, ‘I see you over there!’ to the cheeky one that’s trying to sneak up on him. It’s like me and Connell every time.

I may go see this now, but maybe by myself so only I know how many times I dropped my popcorn.

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Clip is here.

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People have asked me for more information about the belly button thing, and the thing about the belly button thing is that I did it twice, maybe, and then I lost it.

But that’s just par for the course, isn’t it? Read the rest of this entry »

I can gauge my progress more clearly now. It used be: didn’t fall off. Now, there are some things that are happening that happen, just for a moment, and they change everything. Read the rest of this entry »

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. Read the rest of this entry »

So, despite my promise to write about the myriad books I’ve read about horses, and natural horsemanship, and the esoterica of the mythology of the horse, etc, I haven’t, but believe me when I say that I’ve read a lot. I read before I rode. I read before I do just about anything, to be honest. So I’ve been through your Monty Roberts, your Linda Kohanov, your Chris Irwin, your Linda Tellington-Jones. I’ve absorbed the teachings, and would have been trying them out, all this time, but hey, no horse, and it’s unfair to schoolies to give them a little bit of something without consistency. I’ve ridden a variety of horses over the past two and a half years — I think the count may be up to fourteen? Fifteen? — and I haven’t encountered the kind of horse I’ve been reading about, the kind that is sensitive to me, as rider and as person, and who will demonstrate, to me, in a holistic, yet non-nonsense, and if I’m being truthful, creepily prescient way, how I need to grow.

I’ve never met that horse, until now, and it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Read the rest of this entry »

I decided that I wanted to take some private lessons at Festina Lente, where I offer reiki to the horses. For whatever reason — despite my feeling that my riding has been getting worse — I wasn’t nervous. Not a bit. I stared languidly out the bus window, I walked up the long road placidly, I got myself organised once in the locker room without any undue kerfuffle.

I suppose it’s because I felt familiar with the place. Whether or not I was going to ride a horse I’d tended, I didn’t know. It was nice to be recognised by my instructor, even though we’d only been introduced twice. I chatted with the dude who was tacking up Jack, and then the instructor came up, and lent a hand.

She started to explain that we’d be taking it slow today, as it was unlikely, given my relative newness to horseriding, that I would have ridden without a bit —

Without a bit?!
Oh, shit. Read the rest of this entry »

FIGURES OF EIGHT

Ten years on from my first ever riding lesson, these posts are still wandering round and round, a figure of eight starting with today, probably, and yesterday, definitely. It's the antithesis of how I usually do things, but... that's horses for ya.

TACK ROOM

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