Scratching an Itch

This blog entry is a collaborative effort. Lynne Gerard and Eva Knodt very kindly permitted me to use their photos here (see captions for photographer). Alene Sibley generously allowed me to publish the story identified in the text. Heartfelt thanks Lynne, Eva, and Alene!

Mutual grooming. Photo by Eva Knodt

Please take a few moments to imagine yourself in a horse’s body. You are suddenly without arms, without hands, without fingers.... without fingernails. Imagine all the places you can reach on yourself with your teeth, or perhaps with a gentle rub of your hoof. Now imagine all the places you cannot reach -- your ears, the top of your head, your withers, the mane line, the insides of your hind thighs, the dock of your tail, the midline of your belly..... The list of places you cannot reach is long and all those places are particularly susceptible to being itchy. What’s a horse to do?

You can perhaps find a tree or a rock to rub up against. Or, you might call on a friend to help you out. Another horse will know right where you need scratching, and with how much pressure, and for how long. A human friend has those wonderful appendages with fingernails, and can get to places with them that another horse cannot -- the insides of ears, under the jaw, in the center of the udder, .... But, most human beings -- even the best intentioned ones -- don't have a horse's innate sense of what another horse needs. So, a horse has to make an extra effort to let his human friend know that he needs to be scratched, and show him where.

One friend helping out another. Photo by Eva Knodt

Some of you are probably rolling your eyes right now as you see the length of this post and are wondering what on earth I can find to say about something as everyday, as ordinary, as scratching an itch. Everyone knows that horses do this for each other, and sometimes a human will scratch an itch for the horses in his life. What’s the big deal?

Part of the answer is that this ordinary little act, the scratching of an itch, is actually extraordinarily powerful. It can be a wonderful gift to a horse. It’s a way of putting our love for horses, or for one particular horse, into action. In other words, scratching an itch is an act of love.

Here is a story that illustrates this. The author is Alene Sibley, a friend to horses and other animals as well as a friend to me. We met at NHE (Nevzorov Haute Ecole - Alexander and Lydia Nevzorov’s forum and online school). Alene kindly gave me permission to share this excerpt from her NHE diary entry of October, 2007.

“I was away this past weekend in New York City for a wedding. The weather was astounding--summertime all over again. Before we left on Monday morning we went for a walk in Central Park. Central Park is one of the most wonderful places I've visited EXCEPT: surrounding the park, walking through the park, waiting at all entrances, are the carriage horses. So many of them, and it makes for a crushing and helpless feeling. I imagined that there must have been people walking by human slaves over a century ago with feelings like I was having.

I was walking along a sidewalk as we were leaving, and there was a lovely black Percheron standing idly as his driver waited for the next fare. A boy with some friends walked up to the horse and was sort of laughing, teasing the horse not to scare him, and the horse turned his head to look at the boy who then screamed and dashed away (what must that be like to have people popping up to you from outside of your blinders, shrieking at you?). I walked up to the horse and stood at his face, then reached out and asked if I might touch his nose. I chose to not shroud him in sorrow and sympathy, but rather to tell him the news that there are a lot of people working very hard on behalf of horses, and that change was in the air, and that I was sorry it had to be this way now. He looked at me so deeply, wise and kind, and not totally lost as some horses can be. After some mutual tiny nuzzling, he turned his head and threw it back toward his girth in a clear message that there was an itch back there which, due to all of his equipment, was unreachable to him. Somehow he understood this to be the one thing which I have mastered! I started searching, found the spot and OH, he was so pleased for the help. So pleased. Too soon it was time to leave, but I resumed scratching twice when he asked me to, although I had to turn my back on him finally. And he returned to standing there with all the grace in the world. I will not forget him, or all of them, lines of them, in their carriage "finery," smelling of the pungent stalls to which they return at the end of the day. I want each little act of love that everyone here in NHE is making to keep spreading and spreading. In fact, if I hadn't been in this forum this year, I would have just petted this horse but never given him a moment's help with his itchiness. And so I won't go on and on at this moment about how bleak is the plight of these horses, and what this makes me feel, but I will keep looking forward.”

Kevin Droski and young Silvestre. Photo by Lynne Gerard

What a lesson in being fully present in the moment! And, what a gift such presence is for the one embraced by our mindfulness. As Alene's beautifully written story makes so clear, it is all well and good to be saddened at the plight of horses and to be overwhelmed by feelings of despair and outrage -- especially if your feelings move you to contribute to, or join, organizations that are working to better horses‘ lives. But, all that does absolutely nothing for this particular horse in front of you right here, right now. Alene gave that noble Percheron the greatest gift anyone could have given him in that moment -- she acknowledged him, she listened to him,... and she scratched his itch. She gave him relief and likely some pleasure, too. She put her love for horses into action in the moment, and thereby brought some love into that horse's life. That act of kindness made the world a slightly better place.

That’s part of the big deal of scratching an itch. And there’s more...

On page 155 of “Empowered Horses” there is a 3-photo series of Reno of Stonebrook in reclining position being scratched by Imke Spilker according to his directions. The caption is entitled “On the Art of Finding the Right Spot” and reads: “How does a person learn the ‘feel’ for the right aids? Reno begins our first lesson in how to sense a horse by lying on the ground. This way he is less intimidating and can indicate the right spots calmly and with great patience. In the beginning we human beings must learn very concretely with our hands how what we do is received by the horse, as Reno demonstrates here with me. His pleased expression gives clear feedback.

In time, with such groundwork, a person develops a comprehensive feel and is able to sense the spot where a horse needs human aid, even when the horse is moving.”

So, there is another part of the answer to “what’s the big deal?” Learning to sense a horse -- to know where he is itching -- develops our ability to listen, to understand what he is "saying" to us. This improves communication between us -- a powerful aid to building a friendship. And this ability to communicate with our friend, to sense his needs, is very necessary if we want to begin working with him to develop his strength and suppleness.

This is affirmed by Alexander and Lydia Nevzorov. A few years ago, when I was a member of their forum and online school, the first active lessons were -- playing and mutual grooming. (Playing, also discussed extensively in “Empowered Horses,” is a subject for other entries.)

The people who came to NHE thinking they’d be handed some secret tricks of Nevzorov’s for getting a horse to perform haute ecole movements at liberty were sorely disappointed in these deceptively simple lessons. They couldn’t see the sense in it -- after all, they were "serious,", they came here to learn haute ecole, not game playing and grooming. They wanted to go right to the “real” lessons. Those folks left the school pretty quickly.

What they didn’t “get” is that it is in those apparently simple lessons that “the secret” lives. Those lessons are the heart of matter. The work of NHE (like the work described in “Empowered Horses”) depends on intimate, trusting communication between horse and human -- communication that can only take place between close friends who know each other well. The purpose of these simple lessons was to help students develop a close friendship and a certain quality of communication with their horses. Everything else, EVERYTHING, rests on that foundation.

Fada (behind Kevin and Silvestre) seems to be asking, "What about me?" Photo by Lynne Gerard

Kochet taught me a lesson about the power of scratching an itch. Initially, I had some issues with NHE's “grooming” lesson. I could not separate that word from the act of using a currycomb and brushes of varying stiffness in a certain order to get a horse clean. Whether the horse wanted to be groomed, how he felt about it, had nothing to with the matter. In traditional horse keeping practice grooming is a necessary thing -- often done mechanically or completely absentmindedly -- to which a horse is expected to submit. Khemo and Desna quite like being groomed, so that was not a problem. However, Kochet had always HATED being curried or brushed. I had tried firm currycombs and brushes and the softest ones I could find and the ones in between. It made no difference. Kochet wanted no part of it.

In the time before I entered NHE, I had made Kochet a promise that he would never have to do anything he didn’t want to do (unless it was a health emergency). This included grooming. So how was this grooming lesson going to fit in with that promise? What follows is an excerpt from my NHE diary entry of July 6, 2007:

“...Strangely, and much to my amazement, I have been able to both keep my promise to Kochet and follow instructions to spend time...grooming. .... As I thought more and more about grooming, I realized that when horses “groom” each other, it has nothing at all to do with getting each other clean. So I could forget about my brushes and sponges ... and the idea of having a clean horse. All I needed to do was figure out where Kochet itched and scratch him there. Thanks to the millions of vicious bugs we have this summer, Kochet has itchy bites on his belly, his inner thighs, his chest... places Desna can’t reach easily, and anyway, she doesn’t have fingernails. Kochet nearly always accepts my offer of a good scratch session...

Lately, Kochet seems to like having me around. He has begun to show me affection, and just last night he offered to groom me. I accepted... and Kochet scraped his teeth very gently all across the crown of my head, ruffling my hair a little. It felt wonderful and I thanked him profusely when he finished. As I said, for horses, grooming is not about cleanliness. When I was typing my diary entry last nigh after I had come back from the barn, I noticed my head felt a little itchy. I reached up and my fingers closed on a small clump of something that turned out to be a bit of partially chewed grass.. a little tangible souvenir of Kochet grooming me."

So many horses, so few hands. Photo by Lynne Gerard

So to sum up, the big deal about the simple,ordinary, everyday, act of scratching an itch is that it is a tangible expression of our love for Horse, an act of kindness and consideration between close friends. It is a powerful -- perhaps indispensable -- aid in improving communication and building a friendship. It helps us humans improve our "listening" skills by developing our perceptiveness and sensitivity. It brings us into the here and now, into a state of mindfulness. All in all, it brings us closer to the horses we love.

Author Neale Donald Walsch wrote: “What you should do is answer the simple question: 'What would Love do now?’" I've made it part of my practice to ask that question in my life when I'm unsure what to do next -- including times when I'm interacting with Khe-Ra, Kochet, and Desna. Very often, especially at coat shedding time and in bug season, the answer is: Scratch an itch!

Kevin and Zeus - Finding the "sweet spot." Photo by Lynne Gerard

One Thing Leads to Another Pt. 5: Riding Lessons Act 1

After weeks of waiting, Khemo and I finally had our first lesson with the Morgan mare’s person’s dressage trainer. We'll call her #1. 1 was a good teacher. She was knowledgeable and she genuinely liked horses. It showed in her manner with them. She was attentive and communicated clearly. It’s too bad we only had a few lessons with her -- 5 at the most, spread out over several months.

Barn politics were part of the reason our lessons ended. A group of dressage riders at the barn and a few of the jumper riders who were “cross-training” wanted to bring in a certain local dressage trainer one of their circle had befriended. Let’s call this trainer #2. 2 had spent some time -- not all that much -- riding with a luminary of the competitive dressage scene. That was her only claim to expertise, but to the group of riders at our barn she was almost a “rock star”. These women, including our barn manager, wanted lessons with 2, and lesson day would have to be Saturday because most of them, like me, had full-time jobs. With winter coming the small indoor arena would be needed, and with 2 teaching there all day on Saturdays there would be no room for other lessons. The Morgan’s person, who did not work, simply switched her lessons to Wednesday mornings. Since that was not an option for me, I was once more in search of a riding teacher.

Around this time Sally Swift’s book, “Centered Riding”, came into my hands. This was the kind of instruction I wanted! I tried working from the book, but with only minimal success. It was clear I needed “eyes on the ground” until my feel was much more educated and developed. I knew, though, that I wanted to be a good rider, one who did not interfere with the horse’s movement, who could flow with the horse. I wanted the relationship to be not only harmonious but joyful. I wanted the horse, I wanted Khemo, to enjoy having me on his back.

Khemo and I continued our “unserious” trail riding, and I continued my voracious reading of anything having to do with classical dressage. I read about the French school and the German school, about Baucher and Steinbrecht; I read Pluvinel and de la Gueriniere and Oliveira, and I read about suppling and strengthening exercises. I was learning a lot about the art of dressage but I wasn’t learning much about being a better rider.

What made me finally join the barn crowd and begin taking lessons from #2 remains a mystery. What made me stick it out for over a year is an even bigger one. Maybe I hoped for a sense of belonging at the barn. Maybe I lacked the patience to hold out for what I really wanted and figured something was better than nothing. (Note to self: beware of this thought -- it can be a dangerous basis on which to make a decision.) Or maybe I just doubted my ability to make an accurate evaluation of a dressage trainer. After all, I’d been reading about the subject for less than a year... and hadn’t actually been “doing” it for any time at all. What credibility did I have in this area? Whatever the reason, I began taking lessons from 2.

“Lessons in what?” is a question worth asking. 2 certainly didn’t teach riding. What I remember from my time with her is having Khemo trot countless 20 meter circles while 2, sitting on the mounting block at the far end of the arena wrapped in a wool horse cooler, would intermittently “instruct”: “inside leg to the outside rein” and “shorten your reins.” Aside from the occasional direction to change rein, or change gait or shorten my reins (that was an oft repeated command), “inside leg to the outside rein” was the only thing 2 ever “taught.” There were no corrections of my position, no discussions of theory (as I recall, 2's reading preference ran to romance novels)... not even an explanation of why “inside leg to the outside rein.”

Usually at some point during our session one of 2's other students would come into the arena to pay for her lesson, or to set up the next one, and usually some chit chat between student and teacher would ensue. More often than not when she was chatting with a student, 2 would completely forget about Khemo and me. The first time this happened I wondered about the proper etiquette of the situation. Should we just keep trotting until the student left and 2 could focus on us again? No, I thought. That’s silly. There’s no telling how long this could go on.. So, whenever 2 was distracted like this, Khemo and I would commence walking the full arena on a long rein.

During one memorable session we were joined by Murphy, a handsome calico, one of six or so resident barn cats. It was not uncommon for the cats to nap in the tall stacks of hay stored at the far end of the arena, nor was it unusual for them to pass through the ring in their travels from one part of the farm to another. Khemo and I were trotting another one of those endless circles accompanied by intermittent intonations of 2's mantra -- "inside leg to the outside rein" -- when one of 2’s students came in. As 2 and the student settled in for their chat, Khemo and I slowed down to the walk... as usual.

As we were approaching the doorway that led from the barn into the arena, Murphy made his entrance. Instead of scooting across the arena to leave by the door on the opposite side, or turning right to head toward the hay stacks, Murphy paused for a moment at the door before he turned left and began walking on the track just far enough ahead of Khemo to avoid being stepped on. Khemo, nose almost to the ground, and I followed Murphy, always maintaining the safe distance. When Murphy picked up his pace Khemo picked up ours. We did a couple of circuits of the arena like this, alternating between walking and slowly trotting. I was so engrossed in this inter-species game that I hadn’t noticed 2’s student leaving. Suddenly I heard, “Is he chasing that cat?” This was asked in a tone that was a cocktail of disbelief and disapproval, with a dash of mild reprimand.

“Well, we’re following Murphy,” I replied truthfully, “but I don't think we’re actually trying to catch him.”

“Well, stop it,” said 2. “You can’t just let that horse do whatever he wants. He has to know who’s boss.”

Smiling, and fully aware that "that horse" was still following Murphy, I answered: “Oh, he knows who’s boss. He is.”

Murphy scooted out the door then and I suppose Khemo and I resumed our circling. Like all the other lessons I had with 2 this one did not leave any lasting traces in my memory.... except of course for “the game.” Very likely there were more trot circles accompanied by more intonations of “inside leg to the outside rein” and instructions to “shorten your reins.” But all these years later, Murphy’s and Khemo’s impromptu “following game” remains vivid in my mind and still brings a big smile to my face. I feel honored to have been a part of it.

**********

If the only “adverse side effects” of my hours with 2 had been wasted time and money, I could chalk up my decision to ride under her “tutelage” as yet one more silly but basically harmless mistake of mine and forget about the whole misadventure. I could end this blog entry here. Unfortunately, there were some serious consequences of my decision, harmful consequences, -- and the harm was to Khemo.

All of 2's students were attempting to ride their horses in a certain "frame". To achieve this frame they were driving with their legs (often using spurs) into tautly held reins. From my reading, I was beginning to get the idea that this was absolutely not what I was supposed to be doing ... but, because I had very little idea of what I should be doing instead, I obediently shortened my reins as instructed and gave “more leg” -- at least during our sessions.

Over time, riding like that destroys a horse’s movement because it is destroying the horse. It over-develops the “wrong” muscles as it atrophies the “correct” ones. The rider’s action prevents the horse from using his back and pelvis correctly, thus putting undue stress the joints of the leg. This is only the broad outline of the damage being done, a rough sketch. Filling in the details is not the purpose of this entry. Suffice it to say, this kind of riding causes severe and extensive physical and emotional damage to the horse... some of it permanent.

The damage to Khemo was not as terrible as it might have been, because, when I wasn’t actually in a lesson with 2 (once every week or two), I rode on a quite long rein. And around that time I began practicing using visualization as my primary aid, as recommended by Dominique Barbier (see previous post "A Book Encourages Me"). So, at least I wasn’t driving into a fixed rein whenever I rode. One of Barbier’s injunctions was: “With every stride you have the chance to release. Take the chance!” I did my best to put that into practice. And, much of our riding took place on the trails. The varied terrain and moving in straight lines on a loose rein was probably, on the whole, less damaging than the “repetitive stress” of forcing Khemo’s body into an artificial frame on endless circles would have been. At least, that's what I tell myself as consolation. But, I have no doubt now that despite my good intentions, I was harming Khemo by what I was doing then.

At the time I did not even consider the idea that riding itself, no matter how good, might be harmful to a horse. That possibility was something I would come to consider much later in my journey.

And, to be fair, the riding I was doing under 2's tutelage was only part of the harm I was doing to my beloved Khemo. In addition to my own bad riding, there was poor saddle fit. Shoeing. Lack of good dental care. Stall confinement, vaccinations, blanketing.... All these things, many of them aspects of what tradition considered good horse keeping practice, were causing Khemo various degress of harm, albeit without my knowing it.

In fact, Khemo had been harmed before he ever came to me by his “career” as a show horse in English Country Pleasure classes. As a 4 year old he was trussed up in a double bridle and asked to show “flashy movement” which, since he hadn’t had a chance to learn how to use his back and pelvis to collect correctly, consisted of moving fast with a hollow back, throwing his front legs out in front of him, and showing a lot of “hock action” without any carrying power. This movement was exaggerated by special shoeing, with the toes left extra long.

It would be quite a while before the reality of what is done to horses in the name of human pleasure -- of what I was doing to Khemo -- would begin to be clear to me. My questioning the most basic traditional horse care practices was many years off in the future. Learning about all this was a process. A long process. My reading at the time sparked the glimmering of an inkling of an idea that maybe my “teacher” didn’t actually have a clue. This questioning of a supposed authority was the beginning of that learning process for me.

Please do not think I blame 2 for anything. I don’t. I know better, now. There was a time when I did blame her. I thought her ignorant and incompetent, and blamed her (silently, to myself) for ..... not knowing more, not caring more, not educating herself better, not knowing the harm she was doing to horses. Then I woke up to an essential truth:

When we assume ownership of a horse we have control over every aspect of his life -- where and how he lives, what he eats, the quality of the water he drinks, whether or not he gets to associate with other horses and for how long and under what circumstances. We decide whether he wears a bit or not, and, if he does, what kind.We choose the saddle he wears. We decide if he is to be shod or not, and we select the person who who trims his hooves or applies the shoes. We are the ones who hire the people who work on this horse, be they veterinarians, grooms, trainers... ALL of the responsibility for this horse and what happens to him is ours, and ours alone.

It took me some time to really “get” that, but once I did, blaming anyone else for something that went wrong just was not an option for me anymore.

So, this is the end of the first installment of “riding lessons.” There will be more. In the meantime, here are the lessons learned from this part of the journey:

Learned from Khemo (and Murphy): Never pass up a chance to have some good fun!

Learned from Experience: In the United States anyone can hang out a shingle and charge money to teach riding, train horses, shoe horses, trim hooves, etc. No training, official licensing, or proof of basic competence is required. When we assume ownership of a horse, every aspect of his life is in our hands. It is up to us to learn enough to accurately assess the skills of the people we hire to work on our horse. This applies even to veterinarians. Though they do have to undergo a course of training and are required to be licensed, there are good ones and not-so-good ones and downright bad ones, as in every trade and profession. We make the decision as to which one gets to work on the horse in our care -- the good one, or one of the other ones. So, it behooves us to do our homework, to know what to look for in a skilled practitioner, and to not settle for less than the best of the ones available to us. Sometimes, we have to make a decision even though we don’t have all the knowledge we need. In those situations it is particularly important that we tune into our own feelings and the horse's. We always have our intuition, we always have the intelligence of the heart, and we can have our horse’s input, if we ask for it and listen closely.

So, to sum up: When it comes to selecting teachers, or people to work on your horse, "choose wisely Grasshopper.." Remember that "something" (or someone) is not always better than nothing. Sometimes, "nothing" (or no one) is the better alternative, the less harmful choice.

One Thing Leads to Another: Pt. 4 - A Book Encourages Me

Now that Khemo and I were going to be “doing dressage” -- at least during our scheduled lessons -- it seemed like a good idea for me to figure out exactly what this dressage thing was. Really, all I “knew” at the time was what the rider’s outfit looked like -- I could recognize a dressage rider by his clothes, and that was pretty much it.

Because of intervening horse shows and other scheduling issues, there were some weeks to wait before our first lesson with the Morgan mare’s person’s trainer. In the meantime, I began to educate myself in this subject we had so haphazardly taken up.

This was in the time before Google. In fact, it was a few years before I bought my first pc. So, I did what we did in those days -- I laboriously sought out hard copy sources of information by combing tack stores in the area, and the big Miller’s catalog, for books, videos (for you youngsters, they’re what came before dvds), and magazines on the subject. I read and watched everything I could get my hands on.

It was a fortuitous time to begin a study of dressage history and theory. So many dressage books were being published in the early 90’s -- re-issues of “classics” as well as new work by contemporary practitioners and would-be masters. There were books that gave me a thorough historical overview of the subject, new translations of books that represented the life’s work of “old Masters”, and many books that went into great detail about specific movements and various methods and techniques for training them.

If it had "dressage" in the title, I snapped it up. I read one book after another. This voracious reading and video viewing on all things equine became a habit of mine that continues to this day....

Some months after I began my intensive study of dressage, I came across a book that stood out from all the others: “Dressage for the New Age” by Dominque Barbier. This book spoke to me. It gave voice to vague thoughts and feelings I had been having about riding and about being with horses -- thoughts and feelings for which there was absolutely no recognition or support in my environment or in the other material I was reading.

(What I would say now, with hindsight, is that I was learning things directly from Khemo because of the bond between us, and I had no frame of reference for knowledge obtained this way.)

“Dressage for the New Age” openly condemned forceful riding that relied on whip, spur, kicking and pushing. It directly addressed the relationship between horse and human and the nature of the communication between them. Barbier recommended that we acknowledge the horse’s ability to read our minds, and develop the ability to use our mental images, visualization, as the primary aid in our work.

One photo in the book that inspired me then shows Barbier riding the stallion, Dom Giovanni in piaffe. Instead of a double bridle with its two bits, Dom Giovanni’s head is nearly bare, he has only a string in his mouth. This photo fanned the barely flickering ember of my childhood dream of bridle-less riding. Barbier's book helped me keep that dream alive through all the years when books and lessons and various “experts” seemed to say that such a thing was impossible.

Here are some quotes from the book to give you an idea of how different it was: From Barbier's short 3-page Introduction:

“...riding should consist of asking the horse politely for what you wish. No kicking, driving, spurring, or whipping. Think first, then ask your horse for what you want.....”

And, “... If you force you contract the horse. You actually make him worse, not better, because you create mental and physical stress.”

And, still from the Introduction: “...Nor can you train without love. this will sound airy perhaps, but only deep love and understanding coordinated with refined tact will give you positive results with horses.”

From page 31 of my edition, under a sub-chapter titled “Attitudes Needed by the Rider”:

“...Horses have all the changeable qualities that human beings have. Treat them as equal beings. Try to feel and understand your horse physically and mentally on any given day....”

Imagine that! Someone -- an “expert” -- was talking about loving the horse and communicating mind to mind! It was such a relief to read that. It validated some experiences I was having with Khemo, experiences that made me certain he was reading my mind. And it was such a pleasure to be reading about horses as thinking, feeling equals, ( Barbier comes right out and says this !!) rather than as large pieces of meat -- or unfeeling puppets -- to be manipulated.

My riding lessons at the time (I was on trainer #2 by then -- more about that in another entry) were not at all supportive of Barbier’s way of seeing the horse and working with him. On the contrary, underlying the dressage instructors’ talk of “harmony” and “lightness” was the belief that the horse had to be “forced” into this attitude by driving him with whatever means were necessary into a fixed rein. Whip and spur were necessary “inducements”. Two “trainers” in particular (more about them in a subsequent post) seemed to assume that the relationship between horse and “rider” was an adversarial one. It was the old “he needs to be shown who is boss” mentality. Much of this has become clear to me only with hindsight, but even at the time I felt a “disconnect” between the kind of relationship I wanted with a horse and the kind my “teachers” were fostering. Under the circumstances, the affirmation and encouragement offered by Barbier’s book was a most welcome gift.

Most of “Dressage for the New Age” concerns itself with points of riding and training, so I have not had occasion to refer to it in many years. But, as I was leafing through the book recently, to remind myself of why I liked it so much at the time, I found the following passage (on page 31 in that sub-chapter titled “Attitudes Needed by the Rider”) -- a passage that is still very relevant to me today:

“Generally, since body attitude reflects mental attitude, change your mind first -- your body will follow. Completely relax your mind and body. Let go of the worries that you have at home or at the office. Create that very special little space in your mind where you are quiet, at peace, in communion, full of love and appreciation.”

Good advice indeed -- even now, nearly 20 years later.

The moral from this part of the journey:

Make it your mission to always relate to horses from that "very special ... space... where you are quiet, at peace, in communion, full of love and appreciation."

More Thoughts on Friendship - Affection, Equality, Paying Attention

In her comments on my last post about friendship http://wordsabouthorses.blogspot.com/2010/02/some-thoughts-about-friendship.html#comments Lynne Gerard opined that following the Golden Rule (“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you”) is the best guideline to relationships with horses. With a big smile on my face I replied with George Bernard Shaw’s comeback: “Do not do unto others as you would that they should do unto you. Their tastes may not be the same.”

Of course Lynne is absolutely right -- no one, horses emphatically included, wants to be treated like a slave, coerced to work, or have no say in things. In some ways we certainly should “do unto others” as we would like to be done unto.

However, it seems to me, the venerable Mr. Shaw is absolutely right, too. When we just “do unto” a particular other as we would like done unto us, without bothering to ascertain that particular other’s unique tastes, predilections, and preferences, are we not sometimes being at least a tiny bit thoughtless and inconsiderate, perhaps even arrogant and disrespectful?

Not only are horses different from human beings in several significant ways, each horse is also a unique individual. So, a human being who wants to befriend this unique and different “Other” not only needs to learn about horses in general, he needs to get to know this one particular horse.

“The only way to have a friend is to be one.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

How do we begin? It seems to me that the first thing a person needs to do is to get clear on something vitally important. He needs to ask himself the question: Do I love horses? Do I genuinely like them, or is it something else that I really care about?

That may seem like a ridiculously useless question, but what I’ve noticed is that some of us say “I love horses” when the truth of the matter is that we like competing in horse shows. Or, we like being seen as talented horse trainers. Or we just love seeing the world from a horse’s back, but the living breathing being on whose back we sit doesn’t really matter all that much to us as long as he carries us safely. Or, we like the money that we earn shoeing or trimming horses’ hooves, or administering to their needs. In other words, it is not horses themselves we love -- it is riding or training or some other ego boost or financial reward that we get from horses. That is not at all the same as loving horses, or loving a particular horse just for himself.

“Let yourself be silently drawn by the stronger pull of what you really love.”

Rumi

If we are not clear on why we are doing what we do, we will have a hidden agenda, an ulterior motive and because of it, we will come across as incongruent -- we will “speak with forked tongue,” “saying” one thing but meaning or doing another. We'll say "I want to be your friend" when what we really mean is "I want you to think I'm your friend so that you do X for me." Incongruence induces anything from slight uneasiness to outright fear in the perceptive Other. A person who thinks or feels one thing but acts out something else cannot be trusted. Human beings can sometimes be fooled for a while; a horse will sense incongruence almost instantly. So, before setting out to become friends with horses or a particular horse, we ought to be certain that this is in fact something we really want to do out of our genuine heartfelt affection.

“You cannot be friends upon any other terms than upon the terms of equality.” Woodrow Wilson

In addition to love, liking, or at least genuine affection, another “pre-requisite” to friendship is equality in the relationship. Among human beings, this is usually not an issue. Generally speaking, we humans are free to associate (or not) with whom we wish. A person who tries to force his presence, his “friendship”, on another despite the other’s disinterest or objections is exhibiting deviant behavior and violating laws against harassment and “stalking.”

With horses it is different. The horse is our captive. He has no choice about where he lives or with whom he associates. Nearly all the power in the relationship is in our human hands. To remedy that, to restore some balance, we have to consciously relinquish much of the power we hold.

“No person is your friend who demands your silence or denies your right to grow.”

Alice Walker

It is up to us to do whatever we can to make sure that the horse’s feelings count as much as ours, that he has the right to freely express those feelings around us; it is up to us to learn to know his preferences and opinions, to show him that he has a choice about interaction with us, and to make sure that the horse knows all this.

Assuming that the “pre-requisites” of genuine affection and the presumption of equality are in place, we proceed to do what friends and would-be friends do to get to know each other better: We hang out together. Hanging out can take the form of just sharing space, or taking a walk, or playing, or mutual grooming, or..... What we do together is not particularly important, so long as we both are enjoying whatever-it-is. What matters most is that we, the humans, are fully present, open-heartedly receptive, mindful, paying attention.

“The first duty of love is to listen.”

Paul Tillich

Horses are supremely aware beings. Unless shut down by illness, trauma, or severe abuse, a horse is continually tuned in to his surroundings -- the sounds, the scents, the sights, and the energetic state of those around him. It seems to me it must be particularly hard on horses to have us physically in their company but mentally and emotionally absent. What I mean by that is that we humans are so busy -- multi-tasking, talking on our cell phones, conversing with the human barn mate, or lost in our thoughts of the argument we had with our spouse that morning or the difficult situation at work that requires our input -- that we become oblivious to the horse right here beside us, the horse we are grooming, or even riding. Not only are we completely ignoring whatever the horse is saying to us (in exquisitely subtle changes of energy, expression, and posture), we are unconsciously inflicting on him our scattered energy and the negative emotions generated by our stressful thoughts. Who can blame a horse for trying to escape a situation like that? Who can blame him for shutting down, or finally exploding in frustration when he cannot get away from the torment?

“To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work.”

Mary Oliver

It seems the least we can do, if we are going to be with a horse, is be “all there” with him -- fully present, mindful, paying attention. Now, there’s attention, and there’s attention. A hunter pays attention to the habits and signs of his prey. That’s not the kind I mean. Nor do I mean the kind of appraising attention a potential buyer or veterinarian might give a horse at a pre-purchase exam looking for a fault of conformation, signs of illness, or unsoundness.

What I do mean is the kind of loving attention Thich Nhat Hanh refers to when he writes:

“The most precious gift we can offer others is our presence. When mindfulness embraces those we love, they will bloom like flowers.

This kind of attention requires a certain mindfulness of self, as well as of the Other. We need to develop awareness of the workings of our inner self and learn to notice when our mind is wandering, when we are leaving the present moment. And, we need to practice gently bringing ourselves back to here and now, re-directing our attention to where it belongs -- on the horse with us right here, right now.

“The range of what we think and do is limited by what we fail to notice. And because we fail to notice that we fail to notice, there is nothing we can do to change until we notice how failing to notice shapes our thoughts and deeds.”

R.D. Laing

The reality for most of us is that we continually slip out of here-and-now, so we continually have to gently bring ourselves back to the present. If you have ever done mindfulness meditation -- meditating on a candle flame, or on your breath, or on a mantra -- this process is familiar to you.

Here is how this works for me. When I come to the horses, I make a choice, a decision. I decide that the horse is more important to me in the moments I am with him than anything that happened before we came together or that might happen after we part ways. He is more important than the barn mate (when I had barn mates) who wants to chat while the horse and I are grooming one another. I can make plans with the barn mate to chat later, when Horse and I have finished our time together. Horse is more important than the phone call that might come in. The cell phone can stay home, or in the car, or shut off in my pocket. And, when I notice thoughts arising and my mind wandering backward or forward in time -- or when my horse brings this wandering to my notice -- I gently bring myself back to the present, back to embracing this horse in my mindfulness, my heartfelt attention. I bring myself back to now every time I slip into the past or future -- over and over and over again... as often as it takes. The horse becomes my mantra and our interaction becomes a meditation in motion.

This process of paying attention, of being right smack dab in the middle of NOW with Horse, feels spacious and flowing and timeless. It is not a narrowing of focus. It is an opening of the doors of perception to what is here, the sights, the sounds, the scents, the quality of the energy within ourselves and within the other, the horse at the heart of it all. It is from this place of true unity that an intimate conversation between friends can begin to flow.

“Come out of the circle of time and into the circle of love.”

Rumi