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The Space Between

The Project:

One Mustang directly off the range, One trainer, No tools, Just body language.

The Goal:

To discover how far Equestrian Art can be developed solely using body language.

The Space Between

Some call it perspective. For some it is the zen state of mind, for some it is the oneness with everything, for some it is non-dualism. Some find it though yoga, some find it through meditation, some find it through art, some study with masters and some stumble upon it by accident. For me, horses bring me to the space between….

Somewhere between disinterest and overwhelming emotion there is a space where life is at its best. We may think we live for emotion, that it is what brings intensity and vibrancy to life… I would argue that perhaps we can only enjoy the intensity of emotions when we have the presence of mind to be confidently one with that feeling, once it becomes too much for us we would rather run away. The space between is this side of overwhelmed and the other side of disinterested.

With horses, far too often they can go from uninvolved to scared or angry in the blink of an eye. The space between feels narrow and unforgiving. Training can feel like walking a tight rope, rapids below, wind buffeting from the sides. If we get it right, the feeling of relationship is exhilarating; if we loose our balance, we feel cold and alone wondering where it went wrong.

My goal with horses is to build that tight rope into a bridge by broadening our focus, our attention, our fascination, and our enjoyment of life.

How we do that links back to one of my first blogs about Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi’s chart and the state of flow.

The sense of play that I was pondering last week also comes into account, as well as the balance between drive and draw.

What if the relationship we had with our horse was always this side of overwhelmed and the other side of disinterested? What if, no matter how quiet and repetitive the practice, we always felt fascinated and interested? What if, no matter how high the intensity of emotion and pressure, we felt we had the space and the perspective to enjoy it?

The emotion feeding us with energy, a sense of space allowing us confidence that no intensity was too high to handle.

Like anything, this usually needs to be built and developed one gradual step at a time.

Myrnah and I began with drive and draw. A direct gaze felt like drive to her; to look away and take in the environment felt like draw to her. My job was to play at this drive and draw over and over until she was fascinated by her part in the game, letting her figure out that focus and attention to me would cause me to take action that felt like draw to her. That draw would cause her to feel curiosity and connection with me.

When she was disinterested, it would cause me to take action that felt like drive. Here is where the tight rope analogy comes in. Drive too hard and what was once a game now feels overwhelming and frightening to her. Drive has to stay in balance with draw in order for that space between to grow in strength, breadth, and depth.

Should I draw away too much with no drive to balance it, disinterest sets in. I am of no interest or use to the horse if I am out of balance.

In the beginning it is a delicate balance- a constant back and forth game of drive and draw stimulating interest, keeping the emotions in check, and, step by step, building the tolerance for both intensity and quiet- developing the sense of self that allows intensity to be fulfilling without fear and quiet to be nurturing without boredom.

At times the horse can feel like a child with a bad case of Attention Deficit Disorder. All we can do is love them for who they are in that moment and let the play and the games build them into the focused individual we know they can be.

People often attribute to me more patience than I actually have. Patience would imply I am weathering boredom with good humor as we train. In fact I find, when the progress of building focus is slow with a horse, I can feel a sense of exhilaration as I play along the tight rope of keeping the horse in that narrow gap between boredom and the desire to escape. This is my art.

When you have had the pleasure of partnering with a horse who always seems fascinated by working with you, and never seems phased by the challenges the two of you face, you will never be able to get enough of a relationship like that. It is intoxicating and feeds your soul like nothing else can.

Emotions like anger and fear become entertaining, adding depth and richness to experience. Every emotion is one that adds to the beauty of life, and every challenge is one that builds your connection to the world, to yourself, and each other.

This project with Myrnah is enriching and developing my professional understanding with unprecedented speed and clarity. When I hit a stumbling block with one of my other horses, I ask myself: What would I do if this were Myrnah? What would I do if I had no tools to cause an action? Again and again it comes back to building the focus, and the attention, and the connection- building the space between.

May we all have the space to enjoy life to it’s fullest.

Merry Christmas to all,

Elsa Sinclair

EquineClarity.com

(An immense thank you to John Sinclair for the amazing photographs today, best Christmas present ever!)

Christmas walk with Myrnah

Today Myrnah and I took our longest walk yet: Twenty minutes out though the wide open woods with John and Cameron keeping us company . Thank you John for the brilliant photographs. Christmas time is shaping up beautifully this year!

Positivity in Community

The Project:

One Mustang directly off the range, One trainer, No tools, Just body language

The Goal:

To discover how far Equestrian Art can be developed solely using body language.

Positivity in Community

The wet Northwest weather has finally driven us to the wintertime necessity of pulling the horses off the pastures and into paddocks of drier footing. Our summertime pastures are about a mile down the road from my house. The winter paddocks are close, tucked up all around my home, so with this move came a whole new learning opportunity for Myrnah and Cleo: positivity in community.

Myrnah and Cleo still have their own paddock, at least for the moment. The biggest change for them is the level of chaos around. Five of the most exuberant, gleeful, and energetic kids (my daily students) are now part of the Mustang’s regular environment. As the girls run, jump, laugh, and play in and amongst their five very patient horses, Cleo and Myrnah watch on in what seems like fascination and disbelief. The girls adore the mustangs and are good at being quiet when interacting directly with them. However, when the girls are with their own horses being loud and fun, I think it is just wonderful for Myrnah and Cleo to see all that commotion quietly accepted to by the other horses.

The first day the additional horses had made their home at Sanctuary Lane, I took Myrnah out for a walk. Interestingly, she did not want to go see the other horses at all. We played advance and retreat, walking back and forth to and fro, until she worked up the courage to get just a little curious- just curious enough to stand and stare at them where they were resting in the woods at the end of our short driveway. In between long rests for Myrnah’s courage to build, we would weave left and right slowly making our way down the drive two steps at a time. When we got to where the horses were grouped under the trees we just stood across the fence from them, everyone looking at everyone. Turning around to retreat toward the home paddock seemed a great relief for Myrnah that day. I am continually amazed that Myrnah and I can do all this with no halter or rope, no stick, and no treats- only the body language between us necessary.

Myrnah is only three, and when I watched her with her wild herd in Oregon she seemed fairly low in the hierarchy. Obviously a new herd is a little intimidating for her and is something we will work up to slowly.

Cleo is definitely the higher strung of the two Mustangs, and had all the same hesitations walking out to where the new herd was gathered. With her energy, much higher than Myrnah’s, rippling around her her like a force field, I find I am reassured by the halter and rope connection between us. When we got to the other horses, Cleo lost all her reserve showing how much more social she is. She wanted to plunge right over to the new horses and say hi nose to nose. There was an electric wire between us and them, so I kept her a little ways away in spite of her positivity. I was glad to see it none the less.

The following day after lessons were over, the kids and the chaos gone for the day, I gathered my beautiful black Mustang mare, Saavedra, from her paddock and brought her over to meet Myrnah and Cleo. The wonderful thing about Saavedra is her complete trust in my leadership around other horses. When I am with her, there is never an ear laid back, or any sort of threat. She is quiet and easy and relaxed no matter what other horses we encounter. My goal is to impress upon Myrnah and Cleo that this is the kind of behavior expected around humans. They may play whatever dominance games they choose out in the far reaches of the field, however, when humans are close, all dominance games and aggression must be put aside allowing the humans to take leadership.

Saavedra was perfectly wonderful as Cleo came right up to sniff noses, then spun for a kick.. I stepped in with a yell before she had a chance, and off she ran. Myrnah came and said hi and then pinned her ears and went for a charge, teeth bared. I stepped in again and sent her away. Saavedra played her part perfectly: interested, friendly, and simply moving quietly out of the way as the other mares figured out the rules with me.

We then followed them walking around the paddock for a while, allowing them to lead us where they would, Saavedra and I taking a submissive following role and asking to be accepted into their herd. When they stood still, we just stood with them, close enough to be part of the herd, quiet enough they didn’t feel like we were trying to drive them. Eventually Myrnah came over and very positively and gently sniffed noses with Saavedra. Then she stood with us for a moment before she wandered off to eat some hay. Cleo was not so brave; she had been yelled at by me once and wasn’t going to risk it again. We could rest somewhat close to her, but it is going to take some time before she gets brave enough to come over to Saavedra and me again. I am OK with that; I would rather she be more hesitant than aggressive if I have to pick one side of the spectrum.

This process of developing positivity in community is one that takes some time, but is priceless when it comes to ease of coexisting- horses and people together. Saavedra and I will continue to visit with Myrnah and Cleo often. Over time they will understand how socializing around people works, and then I will introduce someone else to them- perhaps a horse more abrasive in nature, more of a challenge to be easy around. For now, Saavedra is the best partner I could possibly have in this process.

By spring when they all go out in the big pastures together, new Mustangs included, I hope to have everyone socialized and positive in community. I do this for me, and for the safety of all the people who spend time with my horses. A part of me also hopes it influences their behavior with eachother: maybe, just maybe if the horses spend time being kind and quiet and gentle with each other around me, their need for dominance games of kicking and biting out in the field will ease and quiet.

All I want is the best for my horses, and I intend to continue learning all I can as we strive to be the best of ourselves together.

Elsa Sinclair

EquineClarity.com

Press for the Project

Two weeks after Myrnah and I began our project, a crew from the BLM came up to San Juan Island and spent some time putting together a story about us. Just posted this week! I love looking back at the beautiful simplicity of those first weeks.

Video is here:

The article is here:

http://www.blm.gov/or/nwpassage/

Elsa Sinclair

EquineClarity.com

Life is a Game

The Project:

One Mustang directly off the range

One trainer

No tools

Just body language

The Goal:

To discover how far Equestrian Art can be developed solely using body language.

Life is a Game


Every once in a while I find I have become far too serious and I have forgotten life can be whatever I choose to make of it. I may not be able to control the world around me, but I certainly can decide how I want to respond to it. If I act as though life is a game, the results tend toward laughter, enthusiasm, and interest followed by a contented peace. If I think of it as work the resulting emotions tend toward tolerance, resignation, intense effort and exhaustion.

The horses also feel these things. They are horses not people, so it is different I am sure, but they do feel pure emotion of their own variety. How they feel about work versus play is clearly visible on their features and felt in their responses when you know what to look for. I believe most of us would rather be partners with horses who are enthusiastic and interested rather than tolerant and resigned.

So how do we make horse training a game instead of a job?

Myrnah and I are partners. When we work together I hope we bring out the best in each other. On those occasions that we don’t seem to bring out the best in each other, I ask myself: What do I need to do to make our time together more like a game and less like a job? How can I initiate interactions that are playful and fun? What do I need to do to find resting points that are peaceful for both of us together?

Asking questions has become one of the most important parts of this process with Myrnah. We are following a training process together that has no instruction manual. Our course is largely uncharted, so when I find myself adrift and not sure where to turn, I try to figure out what question I need to ask. Then I just wait. Life has a funny way of showing me just the experience I need to find the answer and the next step in our process.

Over the last few weeks Myrnah has learned to be so soft about yielding her hind end, turning towards me with ease when I drop my hand back on her belly to ask. Myrnah also has gotten very good at the specificity of standing next to a mounting block and allowing me to stand over her quietly.

The interesting part of the process now is getting on to ride. I’m not in a hurry- Myrnah is only three and largely pregnant. More weight on her back is probably not a comfortable thought for her. I am, however, very interested in the conversation she and I get to have ABOUT my getting on.

The first couple of times I got on, Myrnah was eating hay. She was unconcerned about my sitting on her back and also unengaged. What I would like to feel is that she actually wants me up there.

Now that she will easily sidle up to the mounting block, I can play with leaning on and off, advancing and retreating while watching her expressions and movements. Some days she is quiet letting me hang on her, and gently reaching around to nuzzle me. Other days she seems more irritated when she reaches around to check in with me and steps away quickly if I leave my weight on her for too long.

I am not sure how to make this more like a game she enjoys and less like a job she tolerates (or not); I just know my intuition is telling me play is the key. Somehow we need to make the process of riding a game she likes playing…..

I like the puzzle. The pieces fit together in a myriad of different ways, yet the end goal is always simply to have everyone as happy as possible.

Here is to life as a game!

Elsa Sinclair

EquineClarity.com

No Boundaries – Just Trust

The Project:

One Mustang directly off the range

One trainer

No tools

Just body language

 

The Goal:

To discover how far Equestrian Art can be developed solely using body language.

 

 

 

No Boundaries – Just Trust

Myrnah and I walked out the gate and past all the fences yesterday; we have reached that point of trust in each other, and it feels amazing. We walked out of the paddock, through the front yard, and down the drive to the edge of the property: no fences between us and the rest of the world, no boundaries – just trust. Myrnah could have run away, but she didn’t. At the end of our driveway she looked longingly down the road, but acquiesced when I told her it was time to head home again- that was far enough for our fist venture beyond the fences.

Trust has to be earned. All of us intrinsically need to feel safe. When Myrnah and Cleo first came home with me, trust was built between us in small incremental steps. As a human I am a natural predator; horses are natural prey animals and as such we have very different instincts. Prey animals have a tendency to run from fear; predators have a tendency to attack and control when faced with fear. If we are going to work together, we have to build trust in a way that allows us to act like partners instead of predators and prey.

Boundaries such as ropes or fences help us predators feel in control of prey animals; the lack of boundaries makes a horse feel safer, because they can run if they need to.

Living as I do in a small island community where horses would not be welcome wandering free wherever they chose, I have to use fences to control them. It is a very predator-type thing to do, so I have done my best to make the paddock as big as possible and always give them room to run away from me when we are working together.

In the beginning we had six-foot-high fences. Once the trust between us had built to a point that lowered the intensity of their desire to flee, we moved things around and the fences are closer to four feet now. A little while later the horses trusted us enough to stay in enclosures of a single electric line.

If the fear is high enough, horses will jump or run through almost anything. If a human’s fear is high enough, we will enclose and abuse horses in an effort to feel safe around them. Written like that it seems rather obvious neither tactic is in the best interest of a functioning partnership. Yet going against our natural instincts is a constant challenge.

Trust is built with time and understanding. The ability to make requests of each other and have those requests honored is what builds trust.

Simple things illustrate this well. Humans like to pet animals. Horses don’t naturally like being petted (though domestic horses often do because they have been taught). A wild mustang enjoys being groomed by a partner, but being petted by a not entirely trusted predator is different.

For a partnership to develop, the human can request permission to pet the horse and, if allowed, respect when the horse requests the petting action to stop. Now if the horse reaches out with their nose and asks the person to stop and the request is ignored, the horse resorts to instinct and walks away. This is a very quiet example of distrust instead of partnership. In order for trust to build, requests have to be heard and honored between partners.

That is a great deal harder than it sounds. As people we like petting and it is hard for us to remember horses may be asking for something different. The next time a horse moves away from you, ask yourself what might the horse have wanted? What was he asking for that you didn’t hear? Sometimes the horse is asking that you follow when they walk away, because being together like a herd feels safe. Usually though, I find they are first asking us to be quiet. Just exist and be quiet together. As the saying goes, “be a human being, not a human doing”.

As a human, when a horse walks away we want to control it with a rope, or trap it with a fence, or chase it so it knows that is “wrong” or stand back and take it personally that the horse doesn’t want to be with us. If we can think like a horse though and follow, playing with advance and retreat as a game like a horse would, until the trust is built on understanding the horse’s request for a herd in that moment, then we are back on track to building a strong mutual trust, and it’s our turn to make a request. Asking the horse to move, or asking him to let us pet him, the important part is to listen for when he thinks it is his turn to ask us for something.

Mutual respect of requests is the basis for mutual trust.

So when Myrnah and I began to go out walking, we started with a boundary of high fences. If the fledgling trust between us should have plummeted in its first flights, the boundary fence would have kept us together somewhat. I aimed for a balance: fences intact to keep my predator instinct feeling safe, fences far enough away to allow Myrnah her prey animal instinct to flee should she need it.

As time moved on and the trust grew, the boundary fences became smaller and farther way. Yesterday our trust allowed us to let go of the boundary altogether for a short period of time. The freedom of knowing there were no fences to catch Myrnah if she ran was simply exhilarating. Although we are so bonded now, that I never doubted her. I think she and I agree, exploring the world is most fun, with someone you trust.

No boundaries – just trust – is an ever evolving concept. Yesterday was just a milestone along the way. Here is to the many more ahead of us.

Elsa Sinclair

EquineClarity.com

Fear and Curiosity

The Project:

One Mustang directly off the range, One trainer, No tools, Just body language

The Goal:

To discover how far Equestrian Art can be developed solely using body language.

Fear and Curiosity

The dictionary describes Curiosity as “a strong desire to know or learn something.” Fear is described as “an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat.” I would like to present the idea that a highly functioning individual will have a tendency to tackle fears with curiosity, leading them to learn about the subject until it no longer causes unpleasant emotion. Fear and Curiosity may well be linked in a beautiful cause and effect. While fear is an emotion most would rather avoid, curiosity is one of the most enjoyable emotions to be experienced.

While I was with Myrnah today the wind was whipping wildly, trees violently throwing themselves in every direction, leaves and branches swirling, crashing, and falling gracelessly to the ground. I felt like a mad woman to be out working with my horses regardless of the weather, yet there we were.

We took our work out into the front yard today. The tarp on the large stack of firewood was flapping on one side, the cat chose to accompany us hither and yon, and the noise of stormy weather was often disconcerting. I was impressed that Myrnah chose to come out the gate with me none the less.

I put my hand on her withers and told her to lead the way, take me wherever she would like to go. Today was about exploring. Today was about confidence, curiosity and bravery.

Through the narrow gap between the porch and the house where Myrnah tends to scoot past at the trot, every few steps I would ask her to back a step and wait. Giving her thinking brain a chance to work and her flight instincts a chance to settle. Then on we would go. Success! For the first time we made it all the way past the car with no panic and flight from claustrophobia. Causing her to back up a step gave her a moment to look left and right, to be curious about the tight space, the car and the porch, instead of simply running from it.

In that situation Myrnah’s fear is high and curiosity is a weak fledgling emotion, so I didn’t ask her to stand any longer than she chose to. The back-up merely reminded her that curiosity was an option. When she chose to look hard at her surroundings, ears pricked and neck arched, I was still and quiet, breathing deep and relaxed as I allowed and supported her desire to understand the tight space. We stood still together until she was ready to move again, then we would repeat it all a few steps later.

Working with a young horse in particular, the world is new, experiences are all fresh, and fear and curiosity hang in a balance. While Myrnah seems like an old soul at times, and appears more mature than domestic horses her age, I want to remember, she is only three-years old. The time I invest now, fostering and developing her curiosity while allowing the reflexive patterns of fear to weaken and fade away is worth the investment a hundred times over.

So when she chooses to take me out on a walk, around the front yard, and into the woods we have never traveled through before, between the car and porch, between the bin full of hoses and shed full of hay racks, past the flapping tarp, while leaving her companion Cleo behind and out of sight on the other side of the house- just Myrnah and I exploring the world together. When this exploration causes Myrnah to stop short, ears pricked, body tight, eyes hard and focused, I stop with her and just breathe. That is the moment when curiosity and fear are in a battle: fear says it is too dangerous to go on, curiosity wants to pay attention and focus in to understand the world.

If I rush the moment, pushing Myrnah on, she may be brave and lean on my confidence, but I rob her of the moment to build her own curiosity and self-confidence. If I wait, Myrnah’s curiosity will bloom, and each time it does her self-confidence in the world around her will become a little stronger.

Yes, sometimes I want to be impatient and just get a horse going, and sometimes it is a useful skill for the horse to lean on their rider’s confidence instead of needing their own in a particular moment. Right now, in this project, with Myrnah so young and so much life ahead of her, I prefer to invest the time- no rush. On a day like today, every time a tarp flaps, or the cat runs by, or a branch crashes to the ground in the woods, I choose to use those moments to be still as I watch fear develop into curiosity for Myrnah.

The key is the willingness to be still and pay attention. Curiosity will bloom if you give it the time and the focus.

All of Myrnah’s basic skills with me continue to progress, going forward and backward, yielding the forehand, and even yielding the hind-end. All those basic skills can often help build curiosity. Fear leads to flight, so when I feel Myrnah pulling away from something- to flee from what she doesn’t understand- I can suggest a turn, or a back up to give her a moment to realize she has a choice. She can choose to learn, or she can choose to run. Both are valid; learning is just more fun than fear.

If I can help Myrnah know she has a choice and build her habits of curiosity instead of fear, I feel I have done well. Everything we do together is only better on a basis of self-confidence.

To wind and wild weather, to fear and curiosity, and to the quiet moments that allow us to become the best of ourselves.

 

Elsa Sinclair

EquineClarity.com

Training Versus Development

The Project:

One Mustang directly off the range, One trainer, No tools, Just body language

The Goal:

To discover how far Equestrian Art can be developed solely using body language.

Training Versus Development

My recognized job title might be that of “Horse Trainer”; my business cards read “Equine Development Specialist”. Are they different or one in the same? The last week has me thinking…. training versus development, what’s the difference?

Here is what I think. Training is building a set of habits or skills in a time frame. Development is setting up the environment to allow growth at ones own rate and speed.

Training conforms the trainee to what we think they should be. Development allows them the freedom to be whatever they are fostering and encouraging the best they can be.

Training follows a predictable path of cause and effect creating results; development is an organic evolutionary process where the positive results are often dramatic and surprising.

What I do is somewhere in the middle. I feel that the grey area between training and development gives me the best of both worlds. Wherever safety might be an issue, I tend toward the predictability of training. Where I want that inexplicably beautiful connection and bond with my horse, I lean toward a developmental process.

With Myrnah, in this project with no tools, I have an opportunity to lean a little farther into development instead of training. Without her full participation in the process I am lost. She has to want to do everything I want to do, because I don’t have any tools to push her into doing things she would rather not.

Last week I fell more into a training routine when I pushed harder than usual to try to get the hind end yield. When I realized I felt I had missed a step in our process, I then felt we SHOULD have been able to do it by now. Without the training tools on hand to help me threaten her into submission, Myrnah kicked at me under that kind of pressure. Then when safety felt at stake, I maxed out the tools I did have to re-engaged her: running around clapping my hands, yelling…. and then getting quiet when she came to me with her ears forward again. Simple cause and effect: pressure to make the unwanted action unpleasant, release to make the wanted action pleasant.

Training has a time frame in mind and an idea of what the horse should know by now (such as not to kick at me or threaten my safety). The advantage of that method is the predictable results to pressure and release, and the horse seeming to know “wrong from right.” The disadvantage is the beast-of-burden, dull attitude that can occur in any of us when we feel like we should be different than we are. All of us want to be unconditionally loved and appreciated and we cannot really be the best of ourselves when we are told we are not good enough constantly. Horses are no different from people in that respect.

So what might last Wednesday have looked like if I had taken the developmental approach?

First off, when Myrnah started pinning her ears at me in the specificity exercise, I would have slowed way down, spent more time in advance and retreat, spent more time being playful and affirmative, and been less attached to specificity happening any time soon.

Secondly, once I realized the step I had missed, the hind end yield, I would have spent more time quiet and still with my hand on her side, waiting for her to choose her response to my presence, giving her all the time in the world to decide she wanted to yield and work with me, making sure I released my focus and appreciated her the moment our connection and cooperation got stronger.

Thirdly, if she had kicked at me, and I was in a developmental frame of mind, I wouldn’t have let fear dictate my response. Fear caused me to be desperate about getting our cooperative connection back in a hurry. If I hadn’t been afraid of getting hurt or losing out connection, I would have just stepped out of the way and backed off, playing with the gentle intensity of drive and draw just like we did in the beginning of our relationship to bring our connection back and start over.

It’s all about time really. There is a brilliance in each of us that blooms with focus, attention, love, devotion and plenty of time. Under the pressure of a limited time frame, we can get a lot done and feel good about our competence, but the question remains: Is the immediate competency worth the brilliance we sacrifice in the process?

I gave myself a year to train Myrnah without tools. A dear friend said she wished I wouldn’t put a time limit on this process, and I think I now understand her sentiments. None the less as a horse trainer, and an equine development specialist, for my own education, I want to feel the pressure of a time limit. I want to see how close to a developmental process I can keep us in spite of a time frame. Nothing is black and white. Life is shades of grey between extremes. For me seeing the extremes helps me figure out where I would like to stand in the middle ground.

Training versus development is a thought-provoking contrast. While the world might ask me to train horses on a time frame, and I would like to think I am good at it I also hope to get so good at the developmental processes that people see it, and want it and will start to value the brilliance of connection above and beyond physical competence in the moment. Myrnah is here to help me strengthen my skills of development.

So here is to the unique, the surprising and the inexplicable connection between horse and rider. May I have the fortitude and patience to wait for it, nurture it, and encourage it in every way.

Elsa Sinclair

EquineClarity.com

For all who were wondering, Cleo continues to be an amazing horse. Her powers of focus and her desire to connect make working with her a brilliant experience every day. Every time her tension drops another notch and she seems a little more comfortable in her life, I feel like I have just won the lottery. Its a slightly different process than Myrnah’s but I still do my best to keep the ideas of training versus development clear in my thoughts as we progress. Thank you Cleo for continuing to be such a wonderful teacher.

Specificity and skipped steps

The Project:

One Mustang directly off the range, One trainer, No tools, Just body language

The Goal:

To discover how far Equestrian Art can be developed solely using body language.

 

Specificity and skipped steps

 

It seems Myrnah and I have reached a step in the process that is not as graceful as all the previous steps have been. Specificity is proving to be more difficult for us than anything we have done yet. I don’t know if I am excited by the challenge, or disappointed in myself for not setting up the course of learning better. A little of both I think.

 

Last week was all about traveling together, developing our ease and relaxation in movement. Myrnah more or less got to choose where we traveled; I just asked her to keep moving. Everything Myrnah and I have done together so far has had a large element of choice on her part. If I wanted to trim her hooves, I let her decide where she wanted to stand to have them done; and, if she changed her mind, I picked up my trimming tools, followed her to the new spot, and started again. If I asked her to turn, I wasn’t too particular about where we were headed so long as she yielded the direction asked. If I asked her to back up and she turned around in the process, that was fine too, so long as she stepped back for me. We were building a basis of communication, and I wanted all the pieces to feel easy. Little by little she became more accurate in her responses and I was thrilled.

This week I set up a pattern to build specificity. Walking together, rest in movement, the gate open between the woods and the arena, Myrnah could take me wherever she liked. New addition to the game: I added a couple of tires, double-stacked in the arena. If Myrnah was interested in investigating them, we could stop and rest there; everywhere else we needed to keep moving.

 

The idea is to teach Myrnah to sidle up to something (like a stack of tires) to let me get on. The first step in that is to get her to be interested in something tall that I can stand on. It worked like a charm and pretty soon those tires were like a magnet- the only place she wanted to be.

 

From the first step of investigating the tires to get a rest from perpetual movement, we built to my standing on the tires while we both took a break. Then on Wednesday I started getting specific; Myrnah needed to put her side to the tires before we could both relax. As soon as she was in position, I would sit down and take some time to just be still with her.

 

Getting Myrnah in exactly the right spot beside the tires was challenging for her. Anything so specific is new to us, and she didn’t want to do it. While I was happy to give it up and go walking instead, she didn’t want to do that either. She wanted to just rest at the tires in any position she chose, and so Myrnah started pinning her ears at me.

 

This is where I think there is a balance to be struck. “Confidence-in-one’s-self” and “confidence-in-others” need to be in balance. Myrnah has a great deal of natural self-confidence. When her confidence in me is lacking, it is easy for her to start being angry. Wednesday she had a perfectly good idea of what we should do together: (standing relaxed at the stacked tires) My idea of alternating walking and standing at a specific spot next to the tires seemed like a terrible idea to her. Too much confidence in herself and not enough in me lead to some angry gestures.

 

I am generally intolerant of anger, so I jumped right on it, and thought, what do I do with my other horses to build their confidence in leadership? I work on our yields: front-end, back-end, and sideways. Myrnah’s front-end yields are soft and easy; her back-end yields are relatively undeveloped. Back-end yields are something I kept putting off until our bond felt stronger. Well obviously here was a gap in her education and a missed step in the process.

 

What happened when I went to push her hind end away from me Wednesday? She told me NO. I pushed harder and she showed me she had feet to kick me with… hmmm, pushing harder obviously wasn’t going to get me anywhere I wanted to go. (and yes I was thinking all this would be so much easier if I had rope right now and could just make her do it).

 

So take a deep breath and break it down. We take a walk and then I play with gently putting my hand at the back of her belly to suggest she just look toward me with her nose. If her nose tips toward me, her hip will at least energetically yield, even if it isn’t physically apparent. The problem is she won’t even do that.  On this day a hand on the side of her belly puts Myrnah into a strong opposition reflex, sending me running out of the kick zone. So I yell and jump up and down and clap my hands and run in circles driving her nose away from me until she looks at me with curiosity, and comes back with her ears forward. Then I sit on the ground, breathing hard, and wishing I hadn’t put off this step in the training. Breath caught, we try it again.

 

Sometimes, if I get my tact just right her nose comes toward me when I place a hand on the back of her belly, and I quickly reward that by moving my hand onto her withers and simply walking with her. Sometimes my tact is off, (or hers is), and I get the opposition of her hind end suddenly thrown in my direction; then I have to resort to acting like a crazy person, running around, moving her front end away from me until she musters up the positivity to look at me and ask what in the world I am doing, and wouldn’t it be nicer if we both stopped and just hung out together. ( I always say yes to that)

 

A horse’s confidence in others is based on their respect and their respect is based on their willingness to yield physical space. Willingness equals a positive attitude. When Myrnah started showing aggression, I knew her confidences were getting out of balance and we needed to build a little more respect and confidence in me, her person, and hopefully her leader.

 

I wish I had spent more time teaching her to yield her hind end earlier in the game. Without rope or stick I wasn’t sure I could, but now I see it is a critical piece that is fundamental to later progress.

 

On the up side, Myrnah’s extreme opposition prompted my own desperate measures, which caused her to look at me in a new and curious frame of mind. Her ear pinning seems to be melting away, her specificity of standing exactly at the mounting block has improved dramatically, and her offers of focus, arc and softness in her body while we walk together are so beautiful they make me want to cry.

So thank you to the exercise of specificity for showing me our missed step in the process. I love everything I am learning through this, even if I don’t always get it right the first time.

Elsa Sinclair

EquineClarity.com

Rest in Movement

The Project:

One Mustang directly off the range, One trainer, No tools, Just body language

The Goal:

To discover how far Equestrian Art can be developed solely using body language.

Rest in Movement

It sounds like a contradiction, rest in movement, yet I think it is contradictions like this that make us feel alive. Last week I talked about draw and drive, using those concepts to build a connection between partners. I believe it is the combination of two contrary ideas that is often a powerful force of creation. Draw and drive bond horse and rider to each other in a way that feels magical, yet, when looked at closely, we find it can in fact be understood and built logically one step at a time.

Rest in movement is another one of those apparent contradictions that seem to bring power and grace into life. As of this week Myrnah is not sure she agrees, though I do jest a little here. In reality Myrnah continues to amaze me with how gracefully she moves forward to the next step in our process, time and time again.

In training horses we work with the idea of pressure and release to cause growth and development. When Myrnah and Cleo were first with me, in order for them to feel release, I needed to turn my body away, take my eyes off of them, and maybe even sit down on the ground and be very still- all pressure released in an obvious way. To add pressure all I needed to do was stare directly at them; that seemed to be all it took for them to feel the need to respond. As time went on and they became more confident, I was able to release pressure simply by becoming still and quiet with them, wherever I was already standing. Putting pressure on sometimes required my walking over and causing them to take a step in some direction they wouldn’t have chosen on their own, in order for them to think about me.

Up until this week I have felt I needed to follow Myrnah’s lead letting her dictate how much of any one task she felt ready to do. I wanted her to feel that working with me was easy, with releases of pressure simple to ask for. All she needed to do was reach over and touch me with her nose to ask for a break and it was readily given. Slowly, over time, I was able to ask her to keep moving through a task, past her request for a break, helping her build a stronger work ethic. If I pushed too far I could see her get frustrated; she would start to bite at me and pin her ears, letting me know she needed more release.

This week we had a breakthrough. We went out in the woods for a walk and I had the thought that Myrnah was ready for more. So, instead of letting her just wander from one bite of fern to another, I asked her to keep walking. Every time she tried to stop I asked her to move- anywhere she wanted to go, just continual movement. Interestingly, she didn’t seem to get frustrated, or ask me quit the game by reaching around to touch me; she just kept trying to stop where she wanted, and then patiently walked on when I asked. Occasionally she would take me back to the paddock gate, and I would gently push her away; she would circle round to face it again, and I would gently push her away again. Sometime it would take eight, nine, ten circles before she would take me out into the woods again. We walked for 20 minutes that day, and by the end Myrnah was starting to develop a rhythm and an easy swing to her walk. As long as she kept moving, I was quiet and peaceful, simply walking alongside her, my hand on her withers and my feet in time with hers- no pressure, just the two of us resting in movement.

 

The next day we took the rest in movement idea out the other side of the paddock into the front yard where there is lots of grass to eat. That indeed proved much more challenging. It is hard to keep moving when there is a buffet underfoot calling Myrnah’s name with every stride. I again was thoroughly impressed that she didn’t get frustrated with me; she simply pitted her perseverance against mine and gently and slowly came around to my way of thinking. When Myrnah finally was brave enough to walk us through the narrow path between the garden and the car, taking us to a new area above the pond, I chose that moment to stop, take the pressure off, and let her graze for awhile. Rest in movement is a new skill for us; rest while grazing is an established release and reward. When a horse offers me a supreme effort of bravery or focus, I do my best to let them know I fully appreciate it.

The interesting side effect to this rest in movement practice is the affection I get afterward, as both Myrnah and Cleo surprise me with the dramatic increase of nuzzling and focused appreciative contact. I don’t know whether they are thanking me for the simple relaxation that movement brings, or the dominant role I take on by moving them that allows them feel safe and part of my herd, or something else all together.

Whatever the reason, rest in movement seems to have fallen into place perfectly as the next obvious step, and I couldn’t be more pleased with the results.

 

Elsa Sinclair

EquineClarity.com