Meditations on Equestrian Art

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.

Speed and Tranquility

This week, summer seems to have finally arrived in the San Juans. The sun is out more often than the clouds can hide it, the grass is chin high, the horses are sleek and glossy, there are ducklings on the pond and the swallows swoop in and out of the barn.

I decided this week to throw caution to the wind. Let my hair down and feel space and time whip through it. My mare, Saavedra, seemed ready and willing for that kind of venture. Mostly we spend our time together slowly and carefully building our skills and communication through groundwork and riding patterns in fields or arenas. I love the subtle intricacies of developing a partnership with horses and the meditative quality of riding, aspiring to be ever more centered in fluid harmony. Sometimes though, I remember what it was like to be a kid, back in the days when it was all about speed. We loved our horses, and what we loved most with our horses was running and jumping. It wasn’t about style or grace. It was just the thrill of the chase pure and simple.

I have come too far to go all the way back. I have no desire to relive the bucking fits, runaways and bruises acquired from low hanging branches. Those are memories best left in my childhood. The speed though, I miss the speed.

So this week Saavedra and I did our ground work each day to establish connection and then, when we felt well set up as partners in crime, we lit out on the trails like the devil himself was behind us. Sometimes a girl just needs to feel twelve years old again.

It’s so much better now than it was when I was twelve though. I ride with my halter, but over the course of a couple of hours, I can count on one hand the times I actually need to pick up the reins. Mostly I can leave my horse’s nose alone and ride with my body and a little support from the string around the base of Saavedra’s neck. Today we galloped a stretch of tight turns through the woods on a slight uphill. It is nothing less than thrilling to be able to sit up before a turn, needing nothing more than the string around my horse’s neck to reinforce my body cues. To feel my horse gather underneath me in preparation for a perfectly balanced flying change to take the corner with ease, and then a burst of speed before we do it all again: corner, sprint, corner, sprint, corner, sprint- it’s just pure fun.

And then, come the end of the day, I notice the lovely languid peaceful expressions Saavedra and I both carry. There is something beautiful about physical exhaustion that leaves the mind clear.

Though I lose myself sometimes to childish fancies, I still have a project to wrap my head around. How do I build a relationship with a horse where I never need to control their nose with a halter or bit. How do I forge a connection so strong that I don’t need that piece of string around the base of my horse’s neck to reinforce communication?

Saavedra and I had a breakthrough this week. Our evening rides at liberty out in the pasture amongst the herd have been mentally demanding for me the last few weeks. Without any tools to reinforce getting us started on the right track, she has been determined to challenge me at every turn. I felt as though I was trying to reinvent the wheel and just couldn’t seem to smooth out the lumps. Thanks to a couple of great students this past weekend, I was allowed to teach a few things I myself desperately needed to remember.

1. If a horse isn’t interested in drawing to you, gently driving them away with patience, attention and tact can build a connection and bond that can draw the horse back to you.

2. The front end of a horse is easier to direct than the back end of the horse: do the easier tasks first and build from there to the more challenging tasks.

3. A steady pressure is supported by a rhythmic pressure. If you push against a horse and it doesn’t move, pushing harder just makes them want to push harder back against you. If instead you switch to a vibration or rhythmic pressure, it is easy for the horse to learn to move with and not against you.

Incredibly simple ideas that I teach everyday, and yet sometimes I seem to be my own most challenging student. Remembering that the same concepts apply, even when training horses without the tools, was a powerful moment for me. Applying those three simple concepts to my ride the other evening led to one of the most fun relaxing easy peaceful rides I have ever had in amongst the herd. Just me, the horses, and a few good ideas- nothing extra.

Things should be made as simple as possible, but not any simpler. ~Einstein

Here is to simple and beautiful!

Elsa Sinclair

EquineClarity.com

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.

Looking for Inspiration

So I am going about this horse training project all backwards. On purpose of course, because isn’t about the destination, it’s all about the journey.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost

None the less, I find myself looking for inspiration this week. There are brilliant horse trainers out there who use tools first and then end up with a relationship where tools of control are no longer necessary. While I may be going about this training thing the other way round… I would still love to have a little inspiration from the brilliance that has gone before me.

Here are the only two videos I seem to be able to find with horses and people working together without the use of sticks or ropes (though… there are spurs on, so who knows how much of a role they play in the performance..) If you know of any other videos with horses and people without the tools of control? Please send them my direction.

Pat Parelli’s video was not allowed to be embedded in the blog, so here is the link if you are interested.

While the halter and stick show up briefly in this video… it is so beautifully minimal, I had to include it.

Thanks,

Elsa Sinclair

EquineClarity.com

ps For those of you who get this in email form, to see the videos click on the title of the blog and it will take you to the blog page where the videos are. Enjoy!

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.

Community

In my last blog I talked about how I thought I was going to have to become a lot more fun in my training methods as I embarked on this training challenge with no tools.

Sometimes I have a hard time finding that fun point of view. Then I wonder, lacking any perspective of amusement, if I should even bother trying to train a horse, or relate to anyone for that matter. Fun and play are somewhat magical; interaction and laughter cause us to feel loved, and valued, and connected.

Life is about more than fun though… there is a whole gamut of emotions that bring depth and detail to life. So on a day when I am sad, or angry, or lonely I think there is a vital importance to just showing up anyway. On a day when my emotions are different from fun, my horses may not learn new things as quickly or as easily, however, if I can be understanding of this, there is a wealth of connection to be gained regardless. Sometimes it’s just about showing up no matter how you feel.

The people in my life help me to consistently show up. They help me to walk my talk and keep me putting one foot in front of the other regardless of the weather. I am incredibly fortunate in the community I have around me. I have written to thank the horses and all they have taught me; today I need to write a thank-you to the people. The diversity of perspective and energy every one of them brings helps me everyday. Taking a moment to look at the horses through someone else’s perspective has led me to uncountable eureka moments. Stepping into someone else’s shoes for a moment can propel me into a whole new way of thinking and feeling. I find that amazing, and I feel privileged to have such wonderful people around me.

The basis for my horse community close to home is my mother and my daughter. They both have a tolerance for chaos that far surpasses my own. Without a doubt their company stretches me in a profound way. When you gather 20 some horses together, and all the people who would like to be connected with the herd there is a certain amount of chaos that must be tolerated (or enjoyed) as everyone learns and grows together. I am very grateful I have my mother and my daughter to support me through the ups and downs of creating community.

To all of you who make up my community, Thank-you! From the Plumb Pond riders who inspire me daily to the broader group of equine aficionados throughout the Islands, the Northwest, and the world at large, you know who you are, thank you for being part of my journey.

Elsa Sinclair

EquineClarity.com

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.

Everyone deserves to be loved…

Once upon a time I was married. It seems so very long ago, a fairy tale shrouded in mists of perfection. Fairy tales are just that way, sometimes the sun must come out and burn through the fog showing all that was hidden for better or for worse. My husband fell deeply in love with another woman. For a time we both held tight to the fairy tale, as though by ignoring it, a love on the other side of the world could have no power over our story. She became suicidal and he was torn. It was complicated and dark and difficult. I loved him and believed he should be with the woman he loved, even if it was no longer me; then she became homicidal, threatening him should he not comply with all she asked of him, and I no longer knew what to think.

In a conversation with my sister during this time, trying to sort out the anger, hatred and disbelief if felt for this woman who could threaten the man who loved her, and the man I still very much loved, my sister said something that rocked me to my core. She said: Everyone intrinsically deserves to be loved, even her.

I knew my sister was right, though it is only years later I think I am finally coming to terms with the idea.

“When another person makes you suffer, it is because he suffers deeply within himself, and his suffering is spilling over. He does not need punishment; he needs help. That’s the message he is sending.” Thich Nhat Hanh

I do believe we all have an intrinsic need to be loved. When we feel alone and uncared for, an insecurity is born that becomes the basis for desperate actions. No one is immune, we all know what it feels like to have done things we shouldn’t have.

Horses and life get all intertwined for me. When I can’t figure out how to train a horse, sometimes the solutions will crop up from the most unexpected places. When life seems unfathomably difficult, horses often show me the light at the end of the tunnel.

I have spent the last week riding Saavedra with no tools of control, no ropes or sticks or spurs, simply her and me among and around her herd in the pasture. I want her to travel about the herd carrying me along beautifully, peacefully, and serenely through the spaces between horses. Saavedra has other ideas; she wants to move all the other horses out of our way at every opportunity. If they are at ease, it is not too difficult for me to redirect her to the open path; however if they pin their ears at her and tell us to get lost, the thrill of a confrontation is like a drug for Saavedra. Her neck becomes arched and her ears prick forward with vibrant intensity. That spot in the pasture she has just been asked to leave alone is the ONLY place she wants to go. Then there is a battle of wills between us. I am voting for peaceful travel; she is desperate for connection with her herd. I understand the feeling and I empathize with her. How do we build up her self-confidence to a level where she can travel through the herd unconcerned? How do we support her to be confident in her connection with me, feeling safe without the constant reassurance that her equine herd is there for her.

I am asking of Saavedra so many actions she would never choose to do on her own. We are traveling nowhere in particular; we are not going to get water, or organizing the herd structure, or finding a better patch of grass to graze. While some horses might find it fun to simply travel, it seems perhaps it is unnerving and stressful for Saavedra to do so. She feels alone and strange with her rider all of the sudden so passive and powerless. When faced with a lack of confidence, there are generally two solutions: freeze up and feel helpless hoping someone else will fix it for you, or take action to feel connected and part of the world again. That action is going to look like play, or it is going to look like a fight, depending on the desperation felt.

We hear horse trainers say you have to be a strong leader, and horses will test your leadership constantly until they trust you. I think there is some truth to that. A horse who lacks confidence wants to be part of something bigger than himself. Interaction makes a horse feel part of things. Positive or negative, interaction usually feels safer than being alone, particularly for a prey animal like a horse.

When I ride Saavedra with a halter or I carry a stick, if she becomes unconfident I can assert myself as a leader using pressure and release and she finds comfort in being my partner. Her confidence seems to increase after she tests my strength and we move forward together.

When I ride Saavedra with no tools and have not used force in any part of our day together, interestingly I find her confidence decreased. I can’t force her to move her feet one way or another to prove my leadership. All I can do is ask and reward.

I believe the secret lies in how I ask for things. If I ask with a sense of fun and play (a skill I feel is still in it’s infancy for me), I don’t have to prove how strong I am to give her confidence in our partnership. Fun and play naturally fill that intrinsic need to feel loved. If I ask with a serious or challenging demeanor (a skill I seem to be comfortable and familiar with) she doesn’t know she is loved and accepted by me until she tests my strength. If she can test me and I can stand up to her confrontation, she will feel safe… however the moment she feels weakness in me, she will have to test me again. Her safety depends on being part of a herd. She needs to feel loved.

I believe there is a natural sequence to these things. As foals, horses will follow the older confident horses as they learn about their world. When they feel alone or unconfident they will play and that makes them feel a part of their herd, safe. Playing builds confidence. Inevitably at some point a foal will feel alone and unsafe, beyond his ability to soothe himself. Then he will become aggressive, pick fights with his siblings, or kick at his mother. If this earns him the attention that makes him feel safe again all is well with the world.

My theory is, that we all need to play and frolic and have fun, until we are confident enough to stride forward and do things on our own. When we are not confident enough to take positive action it becomes tempting to pick fights, look for arguments and confrontations, all in an effort to feel safe and a part of something bigger than ourselves.

Everyone deserves to feel loved. If I am going to train horses with no tools of power, I have a feeling I am going to have to learn how to be a lot more fun in order to build the confidence my horses need, to carry me the places I would like to travel.

Elsa Sinclair

Equine Clairity.com

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 New Mustang

Right now there are about 375 mustangs in the pens in Burns Oregon, all available for adoption. This Chestnut filly is two years old and has been there since December of 2009. I don’t know how old she was when the photos were taken. What  I do know is, if I had the time, the money and the space I would take her home with me in an instant, her and too many others… These are phenomenal horses. Regardless of how wonderful they are though, there is only one of me, and I have only the same twenty-four hours a day as everyone else.

So here I am, working my way into a project I hope will make the most of my daily hours. While I cannot adopt all the horses in the world, perhaps I can inspire people to connect with them in ever more enjoyable and satisfying ways.

Horses cause me to grin like nothing else I know. My time with them each day lightens whatever weight the rest of life has laid on my shoulders. If I can facilitate that connection for anyone else, I feel my time has been well spent.

“There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and will be lost. ”
— Martha Graham

Perhaps this mustang project is a piece of my expression, my vitality, my addition to the world.

Beautiful words aside, the practicality of this project is starting to come into focus. Challenges and reservations are coming to the surface to be considered. I find myself wondering how I ever thought bringing yet another horse into my life was a good idea.   My foremost partner is my Mustang mare, Saavedra. My two-year-old Mustang, Antheia, is my up-and-coming, brilliant, school horse… She has the perfect temperament to educate people with grace and fun; however, she is still just a youngster and will be my partner for a long time to come before she is expected to take on a teaching role. My two-year-old, Gypsy gelding, Lir, is just passing through my life learning how to pull a cart with me and learning how to play all those games people like to play. He is for sale, though so lovely to work with I can’t help hoping he doesn’t sell too soon. My mother and I maintain a teaching program with the help of six wonderful Arabian horses. My daughter has an Arabian mare, my mother has two Warmblood geldings, and then we have six more horses who come with their riders, back to our pastures in the summer bringing our numbers up to eighteen- well, twenty when you count the two retired geldings also.

I feel compelled by this idea, inspired by this project. I can’t wait to turn the page and see what happens next. Then the numbers give me pause: twenty horses is a large number, am I insane to add yet another horse? These are not just horses, these are my family. How big does my family need to get?

I considered letting Antheia fill the role of my project mustang, suspending her training with ropes and sticks and halters and letting her learn only in complete freedom for the next year. It would be easier to work with a horse to whom I am already committed, and yet somehow that doesn’t seem like the project I set out to do. The challenge I was interested in was a horse untouched by human training, a horse who could start at the beginning with me- a beginning without any tools of dominance.

I spoke on the phone this week with Tara at the Burns, Oregon Bureau of Land Management facility. At this point they do not have any funding for gathering new mustangs. If funding comes through, the herd areas of Three Fingers and Jackies Butte will be brought in, most likely in August. Then it will be four to six weeks before those horses are available for adoption. I find myself thinking… if the horse I am adopting for this project has been in the paddocks for six weeks, it isn’t exactly fresh off the range anymore. That changes the feel of the project, though it looks as though there is nothing I can do about that.

I would like to have a horse with as little previous contact with humans as possible, yet still at least three years old so that riding can be part of our experimental training year together. The next consideration would be male or female: A stallion will be hard to keep in the natural setting of a herd, I certainly do not want to breed any more horses at this point. A horse recently gelded seems a rough start to trusting humans. So that rules out the boys. A mare will most likely be pregnant if she is directly off the range. If I am questioning adding one horse to my family, I really don’t need a two-for-one deal. I don’t know though, is that just a risk I have to take to do this project from the fresh start I had in mind?

Scenario one: I pick a mare from the horses that have been in the pens long enough to know she isn’t pregnant. She is more adapted to people than I had hoped, yet, she is physically the best horse for the project.

Scenario two: I pick a mare fresh off the range. She may be pregnant, she may not be. If she is, that will be an interesting twist to the end of our year-long project.

I am not sure what to do. Perhaps I just need to go down to Burns and see if there is a horse who calls to me- see which horse wants to work new ideas with me. Regardless of whom I choose, this most likely isn’t the last dilemma I will face in this project. Highs and lows, questions and decisions, come what may this project calls me forward.

Elsa Sinclair

www.equineclarity.com

This video is so simple and beautiful a demo of building the skills for delayed gratification.

This takes place in England – the owners of the yard added each piece
of the Rube Goldberg contraption slowly so that when the squirrel
learned one section and got the nuts, they then added the next
section.
Finally it ended with what you see on the clip! It took over 2 weeks to
get to this point.

Last week I talked about teaching a horse to become less independent, and more community oriented. I think learning to delay gratification is a huge part of being community oriented. So the question at hand is: how do we make that process as fun for a horse as it is for this squirrel?

Elsa Sinclair

EquineClarity.com

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 Balance between Independence and Community

I walk this line every day, and every day I question my right to travel on one side or the other.

The extreme of independent thinking- I want what I want, when I want it. Joy needs no justification.

The extreme of community thinking- Is everyone happy? What can I do to make everyone happier?

However, the two extremes can only exist together. A happy community is made up of happy individuals. We serve our community by taking care of ourselves, hopefully in a way that is in balance with a thriving community.

I live in a community of horses. Some days the push and pull of community versus individual seems brutal and difficult to balance.

Just like anyone, horses want to feel safe and comfortable and happy. Left to their own individual choices, that would include a herd life with plenty of food and water and wide open spaces where they could see the world and know they were safe from predators. They would enjoy interaction with others, maintaining their freedom of choice to walk away when they didn’t feel like playing.

Horses, however, live in a state of slavery to people. There are too many of them to run wild and do as they please. If people are going to spend their resources feeding and caring for horses, horses need to, in turn, become community minded about the world of people.

Yesterday I taught a two-year-old Gypsy colt to pull a travois of poles in preparation for pulling a cart; I taught a two-year-old Gypsian colt to be comfortable and relaxed having his ears clipped; I taught a two-year-old Mustang filly how to trot alongside my car to travel from one pasture to another. Thanks to halters and ropes I was able to progress these horses through the learning process of their challenges with incredible efficiency.

Any one of those three youngsters would have preferred to graze on the lawn and just be easy and relaxed in my company. They would have enjoyed playing with small challenges I gave them, so long as the rewards were sufficiently matched to the degree of difficulty. That would be a fun balance between their individual desires and the natural desire to interact in community.

People, though, always want more. So I find myself forever pushed to push the horses out of their individual mind set and into being more and more community minded. If they can learn the habits of being easy and soft and willing to do whatever is asked of them, there is a better chance they will be taken care of. The better they are taken care of, the happier and safer they will feel.

I can logically justify the training I do as a good thing. I can use pressure and release to cause horses to learn to take care of themselves in a community-minded way throughout whatever challenges might come up, sharing their lives with people.

Every day though, it kills me a little to see how horses are kept, even horses that work hard to be community minded and are lovely and easy to work with. They are locked in small stalls where they can’t move around, or kept in paddocks with mud up to their ankles, or they are kept in dry gravel paddocks with nothing soft to lie down on. They are kept in isolation, or in groups in spaces not large enough to get away from bad tempered horses.

This morning I watched a video of something different: horses being cared for like horses might choose to be cared for, the horse’s individual nature valued more in balance with human’s needs for them to perform, 320 acres to roam, family, stability, security, and people to play with in a fun relaxed environment.

I wish I could give that kind of life to my horses… Someday perhaps…for now, though, in an effort to keep everyone fed, and the quality of life as high as possible here and now, we will continue to walk the middle road: letting horses teach humans and humans teach horses, riding with halters instead of bits, using stiff sticks instead of stinging whips, endeavoring to use psychology instead of force. Someday, perhaps, we will lose the halters and sticks too and still be able to satisfy people’s individual desires in community with horses.

I understand both sides of the equation- I am human and I too always want more. I dream of jumping four-foot fences and galloping cross-country, doing piaffe and passage and intricate obstacle courses at speed. I wrestle with my sense of justice to the horse. How much pressure would it take to get us to that level of skill together. Is that pressure justified? Or selfish?

So I will continue to weigh the balance between what I personally want, and what my community of horses might like. I will continue to weigh the cost of living for our herd and what kind of pressure they need to gracefully accept in order to earn their keep.

This project with the new mustang in August is an experiment of balance between the horse’s individual desires and mine. No tools: only the pressure the horse and I can put on each other, individual to individual in an attempt to build community together. If we can bond our individualism into community, what then can we do together, the horse choosing to engage in the tasks in equality with the rider?

Elsa Sinclair

EquineClairity.com