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Life in Questions

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 in Questions

Myrnah and Errai are out in the big pasture with all their friends now, and exceedingly happy to be there. Over the last week, watching the dynamics of herd life has made me think about questions. It seems to me there is a vitality and harmony and life in questions. The workings of a herd are all about grace in developing relationship, I believe a horse’s skill in asking questions is what makes for their ease or lack thereof in a herd.

When we ask questions and then listen for the answer it will tend to fall into either a yes category or a no category. If a question asked has a yes answer, you have a developing bond and friendship between individuals. If a question asked has a no answer, you end up with a discussion of boundaries, as I explored in last weeks blog. All questions are valid and develop society as a working whole. However, I have observed that the more questions asked receiving yes answers, the greater the peace and feeling of well being within a herd.

Horses ask very simple questions: Can I stand close to you? Can I ask you to move? Can I itch shoulders with you? Can I ask you to go away? Can I ask you to come with me? Some horses ask these questions with tact and build stronger and stronger connections with everyone around them. Some horses have still to develop that tact and get angry responses that lead to boundary disputes. There is every variation of skill in those discussions in a herd and it can be fascinating to watch.

Myrnah, as always, continues to impress me. She absolutely sets some boundaries about Errai with the other horses, yet every day she softens and settles and relaxes the ferocity of enforcing them allowing Errai more and more contact with his new, enlarged family. Myrnah asks questions of the other horses with a mixture of results. Sometimes she gets a no, sometimes she gets a yes; but what impresses me is how, for the most part, she stays in the conversation with an easygoing attitude, regardless of the answers she gets. She has very little emotional angst or upset about the ebb and flow of questions and answers within a herd, and so, you will almost always see her and Errai right in the middle of everyone, part of the group and looking like they are right where they belong.

There are two chestnut Arabian mares that have decided they are the handmaidens of mare and foal. Maharrah and Savannah seem to flank Myrnah and Errai wherever they go. Myrnah doesn’t seem to mind them at all, and they seem completely devoted to their newfound job.

There are two chestnut geldings who vie for leadership in the field just now. Ram is the established dominant gelding: big, powerful and a little insecure about perhaps receiving no for an answer, his questions are more like demands with a dominant push to always get a yes. Theo is new in the herd: alternately very persistent about wanting to be close, and then hyper reactive, galloping to the farthest reaches of the field when Ram says no and draws a boundary. I am sure the two of them will work it out over time. Questions and answers create a conversation: the only way to create skill in that conversation is to keep having it until ease is developed.

This morning I took Myrnah for a ride around the herd. She felt unbelievably happy and relaxed about working with me. Savannah saw our intention to take a ride around and led the way. Myrnah and I followed her along the mown track at the edge of the field; little Errai came along behind us. Part way around we passed near Theo, and he came toward us with a demand to be close. Myrnah pinned her ears to say no and drew a boundary, but Theo would not take no for an answer, Ram overreacted to the dispute and came charging over to chase Theo off. While I was impressed that I never felt unsafe riding Myrnah through all this, I also knew when I needed to get off and ask my own questions (or in this case, make my demands) of everyone. Given the intensity of the situation I yelled at the feuding boys, sending Rom and a very reluctant Theo off in separate directions. Equilibrium restored in the herd, I found Myrnah and Errai again, swung up, and we continued our ride around the field.

I can’t begin to express how impressed and thrilled I am with Myrnah’s development. With foal at her side and the chaos of herd life all around her, she still looks forward to seeing me, she still is happy to take me for rides, and every day she and I get better at asking each other questions in ways that get yeses instead of noes.

Little by little Myrnah and I will push each other’s boundaries. As we feel more and more connected and bonded to each other, we will become more and more comfortable saying yes instead of no. Those lines we drew in the sand to keep ourselves comfortable will be washed away by the trust we develop.

Errai is part of all this too. This evening he cantered to me as I approached, leaving his mother behind.

His questions to me: Can I be close? Will you scratch my back? Can we play? Over the last week my answer has been: Touch my hand gently with your nose and you can be close, and I will scratch your back. Errai’s idea of playing is all about biting and pushing, so I have drawn a boundary there. However, tonight our communication had developed to a point where we could start to play a little. I could run away from him, and he would gallop after me. When I stopped I would turn so he could run past me. Reaching my hand out for him and drawing it softly away in front of his nose as he circled me, gave him the chance to think it through and choose to touch softly with his nose letting us end the game with the closeness and the back scratches he loves best. Sometimes he still gets too excited and wants to bite me or run into me, leaving me no choice but to push him away and create a boundary again. That happens less and less often, though, as Errai learns the patterns, and I get better at asking questions in ways that get a yes instead of a no.

The life in questions is vivid and bright and inspires us to develop our skills of communication. We all want to have friends, feel loved, and feel safe in our community.  I believe questions and answers are the tools that ever deepen that bond with the world around us.

Elsa Sinclair

EquineClarity.com

The Perfect Now

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 Perfect Now

What if every time we went out to play with our horses we began with the premise that they were already perfect. There was nothing they needed to be or do to make us happy, just their existence did that. If our starting premise was to be completely pleased in the moment, reaching forward from there to develop the potential in the next perfect moment, and the next, and the next, can you imagine what a fun time our horses would have with us then? At the Horse and Soul tour stop last weekend Pat Parelli reminded me, “Be pleased, and never satisfied”. By the time you say now, the moment has passed, so you might as well accept that it was indeed “the perfect now” and be pleased. Then reach forward and look for the potential just waiting to be developed and train from that perspective.

I find that getting the balance between pleased in the moment and striving for perfection is an interesting challenge. When I get it right there is nothing that feels so brilliant, and at the end of a training session both my horse and I look like we have won the lottery.

Every once in a while I find myself nothing but pleased with no inspiration to perfect or improve anything. Those days are nice, but a little flat feeling by comparison. More of the time I am a driven sort of person, with a list a mile long of all the things my horse needs to learn and a feeling that they just are not quite what I want them to be until they master the tasks I have laid out. Being driven like that, I sometimes can get a great deal done… but the question comes up, what was the cost? Usually I find the cost was my horse’s desire to learn more the next day.

With Myrnah my training continues to go incredibly slowly, yet again and again and again I find the pay off is huge. Her desire to work with me and learn new things seems to increase every day.

With little Errai around, Myrnah’s attention is of course divided, though not nearly to the detriment I had expected. Myrnah seems happy to see me every time I come to visit, and this week we began riding again. The first day I rode, I got on and off a bunch of times to make sure she was comfortable with the idea, then by the time I was ready to stay mounted, little Errai had lain down for a nap, so I just sat on Myrnah while she grazed around him.

The second time I rode, Errai was up and about, galloping laps around us, jumping up and down and being the entertaining, energetic colt he is. He thinks it is very exciting to have his mum go for a walk around the pasture.

The third time I rode, we did a little bit of trotting, and rode some continuous loops on the hill around the central bushes. I am amazed how calm and willing and easy Myrnah is, working with me while her colt creates chaos all around us. I actually can’t imagine any of my other horses being so steady and consistent and reliable in that sort of situation. Is it just Myrnah’s temperament? Or is it the care and appreciation we have put into our development together? A little of both I imagine.

Because I have no tools to force her to learn things any faster than she wants to learn them, the balance between pleased and striving for perfection is easier to find with Myrnah.

With my other horses I find myself sometimes trapped in an egoic state of wanting to do everything faster, smoother, easier, lighter, and more beautifully TODAY- unfortunately willing to sacrifice my horses joy in the process to satisfy my personal ambition, driving us ever faster toward perfection.

 

“The master endlessly seeks perfection, but only the fool expects to achieve it.”

 

I am grateful to Myrnah as she presents me with the proof every day that  it is indeed OK to take training this slowly. Development on Myrnah’s time frame is something we can both take pride in- both of us looking forward to any moments we can spend together and anything new we can learn together.

Errai is going to be an interesting contrast to Myrnah in this training process. Extroverted, and social, and always looking to bite or paw at something, he has none of his mother’s quiet reserve. Building a bond with him is going to have to take into account his youthful, short, attention span, and I will have to have plenty of persistent focus while developing him into the best of himself. He is perfect in the moment and doesn’t need to change a thing, yet it is important that we continually strive to help him develop his potential to be even more brilliant every day.

That is the balance I seek. The consistent appreciation of “the perfect now” and the constant striving to develop into the best of ourselves.

Elsa Sinclair,

EquineClarity.com

Patient Persistence

 

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.

 

Patient Persistence 

Yes, we are still waiting for this foal and Myrnah just keeps getting bigger. There is little new to report about Myrnah and me. It is simply patient persistence through the hours spending time together, developing small skills while we wait. We ride out for meandering, walking treks around the paddocks; we practice small precision tasks of steering and stopping at specific points; and we make the best of the beautiful spring weather, napping stretched out in the grass side by side.

I am finding the relationship I have with Myrnah is more unique than anything I have experienced consistently with a horse up to this point. The connection and voluntary partnership she offers me blows me away every day. If Myrnah was the only horse I worked with, I might begin to take it for granted. The standards of relating seem so simple and so obviously functional that I almost begin to believe all horse-human relationships are like this. When I reach out to her, she always reaches out to me too. When I speak to her she pays attention and makes eye contact. When I ask her something she says yes, or she says no, and the conversation continues simply, beautifully, and easily. One wants to think all relationships between horse and human are this clear, yet I am finding that isn’t so.

 

In the last few weeks I have spent hours in the field working with my other horses in the same way that I work with Myrnah. Through those hours I am beginning to see how truly unique my relationship with Myrnah is. The way I have trained Myrnah is like raising a child. There are no short cuts, just continual patient persistence as we develop an understanding and patterns of communication. The results form a relationship that seems far more functional on a basic level than most you see between horse and rider.

 

Saavedra, my black mustang mare, and I have been partners for a very long time. I have used Natural Horsemanship Techniques to train her; I have used psychology and phases of pressure, lateral thinking and positive reinforcement. I am finding now that I have also completely relied on dominance to build our relationship. Without that dominance we have almost nothing- even bribery has a limited effect on her. I find myself wondering: How might things be different if I had trained her in the way I am now training Myrnah?

 

So I tasked myself: one hour playing in the field with Saavedra, just like I do with Myrnah. To my intense frustration I found I couldn’t even get her to follow me more than thirty feet from the herd, and she blew me off and ignored me as much as she possibly could. I knew if I had a rope or a stick she would give me perfect attention and do whatever I asked.  This however was different- a game of patient persistence. The interesting thing was, when we would get brief yet brilliant moments of draw and connection, her whole expression would soften, like all the tension was melting out of her more completely than I had ever seen before.

After an hour of working with it and really not feeling like I had gotten any tangible success, I quit on a good note, tried not to be frustrated, and lay down at her feet in the field. I expected her to walk away. Saavedra is a fairly aloof and independent mare; it’s just her personality. Instead she stood over me like a mother standing over a foal. For twenty minutes she stood over me, reaching down every so often to nuzzle me softly. Then she walked a small distance away and lay down to sleep next to me. These two things are completely out of character, and honestly made my week. My horse who usually acts like she doesn’t care about me unless I make her care… she changed her tune and wanted to be with me just because I had changed mine.

Two days later I tried again. The same frustration and difficulty was played out, and yet, when I gave up and lay down in the grass an hour later, the horse Saavedra chose to be, ever so gently nuzzling me as I lay curled up by her feet, was a different partner from the horse I thought I knew so well. Then, to top off the event, Myrnah sauntered over and wanted to stand over me too. Pinned ears and bared teeth ensued and I had to stand up for a moment to explain to them they both were welcome to be there with me. They seemed to understand and accept that, and I resumed my nap while my two beautiful mares stood watch over me.

When I attempted to do the work with Ram, he played along for about two minutes and then proceeded to gallop to the other side of the field every time I asked him to touch my hand. I know if I had carrots, or a stick, or a rope, he would toe the line and do what I asked in fairly short order. However, to play the game without using the dominance card, or the bribery card, is completely different.

To train horses without using dominance takes so much patient persistence, I honestly would be surprised if anyone follows in my footsteps and attempts to do what I have done with Myrnah. I am not even sure if I have the patience to do it again myself. Yet, having felt what this relationship is like with Myrnah, I am not sure I can settle for less.

Tuesday, I lay down in the field under Saavedra’s nose. I fell asleep and when I woke up a half hour later all nine horses in my herd had lain down in a cluster around me- everyone asleep, without a single horse left standing on watch. Not only did they gather around me to sleep, they also felt safe enough to lie down without anyone watching over them.

I don’t know exactly why they all felt so comfortable gathering around me, but I have a feeling it has something to do with the patient persistent work this week has me studying. This work started with Myrnah, yet it’s effects continue to ripple out through everything I do.

Elsa Sinclair

EquineClarity.com

 

P.S. My daughter Cameron has started her own blog this week- all about her work with Antheia. Just as she is doing all her own training with Antheia, while I simply stand back and offer suggestions, she is also doing all her own writing, picture choice and layout in the new blog. I just stand back, offer support where I can, and grin when I see she too understands how rewarding this game of patience and persistence can be. Check out the new blog here:

 A Girl and A Mustang

The Waiting 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.

 

The Waiting Game 

In life, change is the one thing you can always count on. No matter what a moment feels like, it is momentary. Without fail, given time, all things change. Myrnah and I find ourselves this week in the waiting game.

 

Two weeks ago we were reveling in breakthroughs of speed, developing forward and playing with comfort in movement. One week ago everything seemed to slow down abruptly. I wasn’t sure if it was Myrnah or me slowing us down. Her belly keeps getting bigger making her movements increasingly ponderous and all last week I found myself fighting a flu bug. By mutual consent our week’s work consisted of more time spent relaxing together than anything else, Myrnah grazing and me quietly still with my eyes closed. That is why the blog last week was about Cameron and Antheia, with Myrnah and I existing simply as inspiration.

 

This week everything has slowed yet another notch. Myrnah’s belly has gone from a high, toned, fit look, wide yet still athletic, and progressed into the next stage with the baby hanging lower each day. She seems to have entered that stage of pregnancy where you think the belly can’t possibly get any bigger; this baby has to be coming soon! Yet you know from seeing other pregnancies, there is still a ways to go- that foal will just keep on growing until it is ready, and, comfortable or not, Myrnah will continue to carry it as it seems to get impossibly big. It is a waiting game now.

Being a trainer with a plan and a mother who remembers longing for distraction in those last weeks of pregnancy, practice of skills continues for Myrnah and me, just slowed to a snail’s pace. We still spend hours together every day, walking side by side, practicing her turns and her responsiveness to fingertip pressure on the sides of her neck.

 

I still ride a little, though less and less as Myrnah makes it clear it isn’t comfortable for her any more. Sometimes as I swing a leg over her back she stands solid and calm, so we walk for a bit, making progress in small parts of our training like traveling farther and farther from the barn up the hill towards the trails, opening a gate while mounted, walking into the trailer while I am riding- distracting, fun, quiet activities. More often however, Myrnah’s neck and back tighten and I jump directly off. If I stay sitting on her when I feel that tight resistance, it is followed by a staggering awkward step off to the side confirming for me that Myrnah needs to be babied a little more in these last days of carrying the new baby.

 

I want to do more and Myrnah is restless, like she wants to do more too, yet the changes keep coming with more and more signals for us to slow down and be patient. Myrnah seems unusually spacy and unfocused. Getting her attention for a task requires increasing amounts of effort and persistence on my part. She has gotten jumpy and easily surprised, occasionally leaping to the side, eyes wide, heart pounding a million beats a minute, her entire body tensed for flight. I look for what could have caused the fright and can see nothing; so we stand together breathing deep until it passes and she can go back to grazing and walking with me.

I think perhaps sometimes the startle is in response to something internal for Myrnah. Sometimes I can see that baby goes quickly from so still to dramatic movements that rock Myrnah’s entire frame, forcing her to step her feet wide and brace against the earthquake in her belly, as if this baby also grows tired of the waiting game. Nonetheless, wait we must- Myrnah, the baby and I.

 

Myrnah is a wonderful combination of social and comfortable alone. Her days are spent out in the large pasture with the herd. Grazing nose to nose with the big gelding Ram, or bossing around the other mares, Myrnah seems at ease with the group. She is surprisingly dominant when horses are grumpy, as though she agrees with me that horses just need to move their feet to find their way from grumpy to happy. Her bossiness seems more like a public service than a personal agenda. She isn’t aggressive, just friendly with everyone. If they choose to be less than friendly with her, well then obviously they must need a little movement to feel better.

 

Every night she comes into the sheds and grass paddocks behind the barn- a special feed of hay and the beautiful lush green foaling paddocks all to herself. I am impressed she doesn’t seem to mind being alone at all. Each morning when I arrive she is standing quietly sleeping or grazing. A walk to the trailer for snack, a grooming, an hour of playing with me on small development tasks, and then I put her back out in the big pasture with the herd.

 

Maybe tomorrow I will arrive to find two where there once was one. I think though, we still have a ways to go. This waiting game must be played; change comes when it does, and this baby has a timing all its own.

 

Elsa Sinclair

EquineClarity.com

Myrnah’s gift

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.

Myrnah’s gift

When I began this project with Myrnah I imagined it as an isolated project. Interesting, yet separate and completely different from the rest of the training and teaching I do. Never have I been so thrilled to be wrong. Instead of the project being separate and different, I find the things Myrnah teaches me permeate and improve everything else I do. Myrnah’s gift to me, showing me a relationship with horses from a completely different angle, seems to spread all through my work like ripples in a pond.

The developmental processes Myrnah has helped me learn, the processes that I didn’t have a year ago, profoundly benefit the horses and the people I come in contact with everyday. So any of you who get to work with me, next time we have a great session together, Thank Myrnah!

This week, with its beautiful sunny days, white puffy clouds, and a school vacation, brings me to tell you about Cameron and Antheia. Cameron is my daughter, ten years old, and loves horses just about as much as I do. Antheia is the grey mustang filly coming three years old this spring. Thanks to Myrnah’s inspiration, this week was truly special for Cameron and Antheia.

Antheia and Cleo are the only two horses still living in the paddocks at my house. The pastures down in the valley with the lush abundant grass are a wonderland for any horse getting enough exercise to work off the sugar. For the horses not yet under saddle, all that food can be too much of a good thing… so for now Cleo and Antheia stay in the upland paddocks close to home with Cameron and me.

Antheia is a love- innately social with a playful mind and a steady disposition, eager for anything new and fun the world can bring her. At close to three-years-old I wasn’t in a hurry to start her riding career; however, I knew she and Cameron would both enjoy the development process immensely. So with the combination of sunny days, time on our hands, and Myrnah’s gift of inspiration, I broached the idea to Cameron, and the game was on!

Day one: Cameron groomed Antheia loose in the paddock and then I talked her through the drive and draw process Myrnah and I use. Slowly and patiently Cameron used the pressure of moving in and out of Antheia’s space to create the magnetic draw bonding them together. I was surprised how hard Antheia made Cameron work for it, and I was impressed with Cameron’s perseverance as she developed her timing to attract and draw Antheia with her. Once they made it to the round pen together, Antheia following Cameron freely at liberty, Cleo and I came in too and helped speed the process along.

The game was for Cameron to use as much drive and draw and patient persistence as she felt good about. If it felt like Antheia was not holding up her side of the equation- drawing to Cameron- then we could switch games, sending Cleo and Antheia out to take a run around the round pen together, knowing Antheia would be much more interested in working with Cameron once she knew the alternative.

My work with Myrnah has encouraged me to minimize sending horses away, pushing them to move because they are trapped between a fence and me. Nonetheless, tools like a round pen were created with good reason- they speed up the process. Not everyone has the time and the patience to take the slowest road of development. Cameron and Antheia’s work this week was inspired by Myrnah, yet tailored for them.

By the end of day one, Cameron had taught Antheia to draw with her and find a resting spot next to the tires stacked as a mounting block.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day two found the draw a little easier between them, and a comfortable ease with Cameron climbing up on the makeshift mounting block to stand up high over Antheia’s back and belly over, letting Antheia feel weight for the first time ever.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day three graduated naturally to Cameron swinging a leg over and sitting high, Antheia carrying a rider astride for the first time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day four Cameron was on and off a dozen times, sitting longer each time, finally riding as a passenger as Antheia chose to walk over and step up on the pedestal-

TA DA!!! .

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day five the draw between Cameron and Antheia was almost effortless, so they added to the groundwork the practice of pressure on Antheia’s side to mean move forward, linking beautifully with the riding. By the end of day five Cameron could ask for a walk with the nudge of a heel, and Antheia was happy to oblige.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There is something special about starting your first horse under saddle; it is an experience you don’t forget. Thanks to Myrnah, Cameron and Antheia took that experience up a notch- no saddle and no bridle or halter, just an understanding between them. I got to watch from the sidelines, simply offering words of encouragement and shining a light on their path.

I sat on the ground, Cleo standing guard over me as I snapped photos and reveled in watching another horse and rider experience the inexplicable joy that comes with building a bond and doing something new together. There is really nothing quite like it.

Myrnah’s gift I think is really about realizing how powerfully rewarding it is to do things with more trust and less force. It may take longer, it may feel harder, it may seem pointless at times, but there is nothing comparable to the feeling you get doing something new, knowing your partner wants to be there with you. Nothing is holding you, but the desire to be there together.

Elsa Sinclair

EquineClarity.com

Developing Forward

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.

 

 

Developing Forward

First rides at the canter this week! I had no idea how long it would take to get this far. Our progress, if measured against more normal training, might be considered inordinately slow. However, if measured against all the possible difficulties Myrnah could throw at me, I think we actually are developing forward at lightning speed.

While I do believe people have trained horses without tools before, this is the first time in history anyone has recorded the process: writing, photographs, and video, week by week, noticing the landmarks and breakthroughs along the way, and charting the previously uncharted path.

I am not sure people realize how challenging it is to train a horse when they are free to leave you at any time. So many times it has been tempting to cut Myrnah off, step in front of her when she is trapped between me and a fence, make it clear to her I am in charge; or even step behind her and send her forward with energy because she knows she has nowhere to go but forward. I could show her I am smart enough with my positioning and fences to intimidate her. That is not this project though: time and again I take a deep breath and get between her and the fence, making sure that when I push her, she has a choice to stay with me or move away into wide-open space, leaving me behind.

When I ride Myrnah I need permission to climb up on top, and, if she wants me off, both of us know it wouldn’t take much of a run and a buck to convince me I didn’t want to be up there any more. In everything we do together, Myrnah knows she can say no; and what’s more to the point, she often does. So when I say she carried me at the canter this week, I am beyond thrilled she felt comfortable enough to offer that.

Training horses is always a balance between motivating them to move, while at the same time keeping them focused enough on the trainer or the job at hand to keep everything under control. The faster a horse moves, the more exciting everything gets, and the harder it becomes for the horse to stay focused in the moment. The leaping, bucking, and bolting in excitement that can occur when a young horse is learning to maintain forward motion is something that may require a bridle to help refocus horse and rider together. Myrnah and I have no such luxury.

The solution to the above potential problems is: Myrnah and I trained the stop first and we practice it constantly. However, riding a horse at a stand still is not really what riding is all about. We want to move with our horses, that is where it gets fun. For safety, Myrnah and I have to maintain stopping as the number one importance in our training routines. Number two in importance, however, needs to be all about moving.

This week Myrnah and I had some brilliant new fun with movement. Our jumping that I talked about last week grew into a love of running and playing together in our groundwork. For the first time ever, Myrnah had a day where I could sprint off across the pasture, and she would come galloping after me, bucking and leaping and squealing with glee. Sometimes I wasn’t fast enough, and she would have to make a loop around me to play the air with her exuberance before coming in gently to touch my hand and take a grazing break, both of us panting as we lounged in the lush grass.

The bold confidence Myrnah had to play with me like that, instead of running away, felt like the biggest gift. Though after awhile the game changed for her from fun to overwhelming, and, as soon as that happened, she chose to run back to her herd instead of to me. That is when I knew I had taken the game too far, or too long, and it was time to slow things down to baby steps again. I love that she had the freedom to choose, and she could tell me when she enjoyed the energy and when she felt it became too much for her.

Riding and developing forward movement is a constant challenge for us. Myrnah would really rather just meander around and graze while I am riding. I would like to travel places. So we stop and start, and stop and start, walk and trot, and stop, and back up over and over, until Myrnah takes a deep breath and commits to moving forward until told otherwise; then I take a deep breath and ask her to bend around to a stop, touching my toe to connect in with me before I tell her it is okay to take a grazing break.

Day by day our trots get longer and more relaxed in committed forward movement, and, each time we stop to graze, I choose a spot we haven’t stopped before so she becomes eager to travel new places with me.

The first time we cantered, it was by accident. I had forgotten to put the cavaletti down to its lowest setting when I was riding; so, when Myrnah carried me over at the trot, her big pregnant belly made her clumsy and her back legs got tangled, flipping the jump up in the air and scaring her forward into a couple of strides of canter. The wonderful part was that she didn’t take off bucking, or get scared into a bolt. Myrnah simply and quietly cantered two steps away, stopped, and reached around to touch me with her nose, checking in to see if we were all okay. I reassured her, and then we continued our ride as though nothing had happened. She is a little more cautious going over the jump now, but, other than that, we were all fine after our small adventure.

Thursday this week, our trotting was taking us both up and down gradual hills in the paddock. I am impressed with how balanced Myrnah is trotting down hill, and credit that partly to how many stops and backups she has spontaneously offered in the process of learning how to maintain her trot the last few weeks. All those transitions she needed to do for her confidence also developed her physical balance. While I knew that was the case, I also have to admit it was frustrating for me to have her stop and start so much while she was developing forward movement. In hindsight though, the pay off of an incredibly balanced, easy-to-ride trot, both up and down hills, was very much worth the time and effort it took to get there.

That balanced easy-to-ride trot is also what made it so effortless to add a little leg going up a hill on Thursday and rock gently into a canter. Four strides of lovely, easy, flowing canter and I vaulted off to lavish Myrnah with praise, finishing the ride then and there. Riding Myrnah at the canter on purpose and having it be that easy felt like a huge breakthrough to me. Ending the ride there hopefully helped Myrnah see how much I value her effort to do something new with me, just because I asked.

Developing forward movement without a bridle or a round pen to contain the results takes perhaps a little more patience and quiet perseverance. So far, the results seem to be completely worth the extra time. I really had no idea Myrnah would be willing to canter with me quietly and easily this early in the game. Interesting how our progress can seem so slow and so fast all at the same time.

Hmmmm, I wonder how close we are to developing forward into riding the gallop?

I will keep you posted, and yes, I promise I won’t hurry. Developing forward is too fun to be rushed.

Elsa Sinclair

EquineClarity.com

She Has a Mind of Her Own!

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.

 

 

 

 

 

She Has a Mind of Her Own!

Training Myrnah seems to have more resemblance to raising a child than training a horse some days. This week was like that. As she is getting more and more comfortable in her new pasture space and with her new herd mates, working with me seems to have become passé. She still loves to see me, hanging on the gate when I am working with the kids and their horses, walking right over to greet me whenever I come in the pasture. She loves her grooming, and follows me whenever I invite her to come with me. However, in our morning work sessions she is growing up and seems to need to prove she has a mind of her own!

On Tuesday when I needed to trim her hooves, we spent forty-five minutes attempting the task. She picks her feet up just fine, but, on this particular day, she didn’t like the feel of the rasp. She isn’t scared of it, she has certainly fallen asleep many times while I trimmed her hooves, she just didn’t feel like letting me trim on this day. With any other horse I can use some negative reinforcement, enough to let them realize the right thing (standing quietly while I trim hooves) is easy, and the wrong thing (pulling their feet away from me and being fidgety and impatient) is harder than the alternative.

The interesting thing about training Myrnah is she always has a third alternative- walking away from me. If I try to prove a point by making her life difficult, she can prove her point- that she can just leave me if I am going to be difficult.

Training Myrnah I have no choice but to patently persist. I can make the wrong thing a little hard, but I can’t make it so hard that she chooses to leave me. I can make the right thing as easy as I can imagine, but sometimes I have to get something done, like rasping her hooves. If Myrnah decides she doesn’t feel like it is easy enough to be worth tolerating, sometimes I just don’t have enough patience.

Tuesday, after forty-five minutes of patiently persisting through the struggle of trying to rasp Myrnah’s hooves, I had to admit defeat. There was no more patience left in me, and she had a mind of her own that would not be swayed to my way of thinking.

Wednesday, after a good night’s sleep, I was there bright and early ready to work this out. Myrnah reminds me of a teenager with a beautiful new found independence determined to oppose any request sent her way. I love that she has a mind of her own, and feels she can have an opinion about life; I just need to keep balancing that with a respect for community, specifically the community of us.

It seems Myrnah had had a good night’s sleep too and was ready for me, all contrarian purposes at the ready. We left her horse companion in the paddock and headed up the hill to the arena. Once there, instead of following me through the gate, she spun around and trotted gaily down the driveway. A little concerned that she would get it into her head to go out and play with the cars on the road, I ran after her, got her attention, and we walked back to the arena. This time at the gate, she spun away and cantered down the hill back to her friend in the paddock below. I went running after, got her attention again, and we started walking back up the hill. Halfway up I thought I should stop and ask her to back up so we could check in with each other. No sooner did I reach my hand toward her chest than she chose to evade me and sprinted off up the hill past the arena and back out the driveway. I sprinted after her and thought to myself this would be quite fun if I wasn’t worrying about the cars we might run into if we went too far.

I decided that was enough flirting with danger, and once I had gotten her attention again, heading us back toward the barn together, I had her duck though a side gate into the pasture where I could close it behind us, blocking the exit route down the driveway.

Just as I turned my back to close the gate she took off at a gallop down the hill with twists and bucks all the way. What fun to watch so long as I didn’t take it personally.

I ran after her, and, once we were connected again, we resumed work in the lower paddocks below the barn. This time I asked very little of her.

If Myrnah was going to be contrary, I would give her as little as possible to be contrary about. All I needed from her was to spend time with me. If nothing else, we would simply spend time building a habit of community together.

Grazing was not allowed; if she tried to graze, I asked her to move her feet. Other than that we walked or stood still together, side by side, operating as one whether she liked it or not. Eventually she got tired of that, and stopped at the old tree stump asking me to get on. I think she thought, maybe I would let her graze if I was riding.

I got on, but still insisted she just exist with me, no grazing allowed yet. We stood still for ages. All I was aiming for was building the habit of being together. When Myrnah’s back seemed like it was starting to shake from the weight on it, I would encourage her forward, knowing it is easier to carry my weight in movement than standing still. She would take five or ten steps and then stop again. I knew if I pushed for more movement right away, it would be just the fight she was looking for today; so I sat and did nothing, only asking her to move again when it felt like her back needed a break from static carrying.

Eventually she got tired of this, and took me back to the stump as if asking me to get off again. I declined, and told her I would get off after she agreed to a few turns, walking us together into the next paddock. Oh, the head shaking and foot stomping I got from those requests! Finally, she took a deep breath and pretended it was her idea to walk into the next paddock. The walk was fluid and forward and relaxed, so I took my chance to praise her, signal her to drop her head to graze, and jumped off, calling that enough riding for one day.

I wasn’t done yet though. Her hooves had to be trimmed and I had an idea. She was allowed to eat grass so long as she let me trim her hooves. The moment she pulled that hoof out of my grasp, off to work we went. I was banking on her wanting to graze enough that she would try to work it out with me instead of running away. Otherwise I could see myself running a marathon with her through the pastures. I took the risk, got lucky, and won my bluff.

The first time Myrnah yanked her hoof out of my grasp, I excitedly jumped up and down: Lets play! She was not impressed, and did not want to run and play; she wanted to graze! So, after a brief run (actually, I ran in a circle around her, and she spun in one spot with her ears pinned) I called her softly back to me. She touched me gently with her nose, I told her she could graze, and proceeded to pick up her hoof and start again. It took five or six repetitions of this, and then all of the sudden she relaxed and stood quiet as could be for the rest of her hoof trim. She didn’t even seem to care that much about grazing. Sure she put her head down for a nibble now and then, but mostly just fell asleep while I rasped away her excess hoof. It was like a relief flooded over her when she realized it was OK to relax and let me do my job, letting go of all the fight and contrary attitude.

Like any parent, I am proud of my charge developing independence and a mind of her own. I trust that her character is developing, and all the trials and tribulations of growing up will help her blossom into the fullness of herself. My job, as I oversee her development, is to help her keep a healthy balance between her sense of self and her sense of community. Both are important.

She has a mind of her own, this mustang Myrnah does. My job is to nurture and develop that in a balanced way, and I pray to all that is that I continue to have enough patience and ingenuity to do that with grace. Wish me luck!

Elsa Sinclair

Equine Clarity.com

The Winds of Change

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 Winds of Change

My home is tucked in a valley. Between a hill to our backs and a dense forest in front of us is the most beautiful gem of garden and green. The wind hardly ever touches us here; by the time it filters down to us from the world outside, it is just a breeze kissing skin and fur with a playful caress. It is a peaceful place and has provided a perfect beginning for Myrnah and me. In keeping with our locale, the winds of change have been gentle and forgiving as we develop together.

 

This week it became time for change to blow through us a little stronger, and for the larger world to become our playground. With spring growing in strength, the green grass coming on lush, and the ground beginning to dry out, the larger pastures of Plumb Pond beckoned. It was time to move Myrnah from the dry, quiet, high ground of my home to the larger windswept pastures a mile down the road.

 

I think this has been the most apprehensive moment I have weathered yet with Myrnah. The night before the move I felt sick with worry. Was she ready to move gracefully into the larger herd of horses? Would these winds of change tear through our relationship like a storm, fraying our connection and weakening our bond? Would she feel grateful to me for bringing her to a new family in a location that feels like heaven on earth for horses, or would she fault me for changing everything she knows, and throwing her head first into an unknown herd?

 

Even the logistics of getting her to her new home felt challenging. I pulled the trailer into the top pasture where the ground was hard and dry enough to drive on. From there, as Myrnah stepped out of the trailer, we could see the current herd of four grazing the midlands below the pond on the other side of the barn. Myrnah is wary of new horses; I knew this from playing approach and retreat with the various horse paddocks at home. Her first choice is to run to a safe viewpoint and watch them from afar. To my surprise, on this windy Thursday in March, Myrnah showed an unexpected boldness. We alternately walked and stopped to watch the herd, and walked again making our way almost all the way to the barn in short order. Then Myrnah’s youth and inexperience took over and she turned around to retreat up the hill again- a safe vantage point to view the new herd from a distance. I was ready for this change of heart and simply retreated with her.

 

Over the next hour we advanced down the hill to the barn, lost confidence, and retreated back up the hill several times- more and more time for Myrnah to spend ears pricked and focused intently on the herd below. Finally the winds of change blew her confidence up a notch, and we were able to walk past the barn, over the hill by the pond, and proceed out through the electric wire gate into the field the horses were in.

 

The bald eagles called to each other above us, the Canadian geese grazed next to the pond beside us, the deer traveled the lowlands on the far edges of the pastures, and Myrnah’s new herd watched us intently as we made our way down the hill to meet them.

 

As we reached the middle of the pasture, all four of them came at us at a run as horses sometimes will. Myrnah stood the charge with her customary quietness, and I pushed the running horses to the side into a circle around us. When they ran back down to the bottom of the pasture, Myrnah and I followed quietly and gently, stopping to graze when we got close. Antheia, the beautiful grey two-year-old mustang was the first and most friendly of the herd. Coated head to toe in the fresh mud she had found to roll in, she sauntered over so say hi, first to me whom she knows and secondly to Myrnah. Myrnah, mostly interested in grazing and cautious of new horses, was reticent yet patient with Antheia’s inquisitive nature. The other three horses mostly ignored us, allowing us to tag along behind as everyone munched the new spring grass. It wasn’t long before I felt I had facilitated what I needed to for Myrnah. She was here and as confident as I could set her up to be; the rest was up to her.

All in all our herd is thirteen strong, soon to be fourteen when Myrnah’s baby is born. For the next few weeks Myrnah’s herd will grow a few at a time as we move them all from winter paddocks to summer pasture. At first, day times spent grazing and nights in paddocks adjacent to the pasture, eating dry hay all night to soften the change of diet. Little by little they will stay out more and more until they are out on grass full time. Myrnah will continue to come in every night until she foals. Once she is on full grass her nighttime lodging will be the lushest pasture of all, the pasture above the barn where all foals at Plumb Pond have had their beginnings.

 

There is a balance I am aiming for here with Myrnah: between her comfort and adjustment to her new large family on the one hand, and a quiet space for her to retreat to as she becomes a mother to the new little one.

 

It will doubtless be interesting to see how our riding and training progress with all the new changes. Wednesday, before the move, we had our best ride to date. Confidently walking all around the drive way, stopping, backing and turning on cue, Myrnah doesn’t seem to mind carrying me at all anymore, even going so far as to trot a few steps now and then when I ask. It really does feel like a gift, all that she does for me.

 

Now that the space and the herd have changed for Myrnah, we shall see how her relationship with me evolves. The winds of change blow stronger in the pastures of Plumb Pond as the herd and the space broaden Myrnah’s focus. I am thrilled to be part of the evolution and promise to keep you all posted.

 

Elsa Sinclair

EquineClarity.com

This Baby is a Dancer…

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.

 

This Baby is a Dancer…

Sunset… Some of our best rides are at sunset. Work for the day is done; the light in the sky is fading fast. Osgar Lopez’s guitar sets the tone from a red, mud-spattered, boom box beside the arena. Myrnah and I travel together, step for step, stride for stride, side by side; and that baby dances right along with us. Myrnah is solid and seemingly unaffected by the fact that her belly jumps and dances to the left and right completely independently of the movements she and I make together. This baby is a dancer and will not be denied.

I don’t remember this kind of movement from any of the other unborn foals I have spent time with, perhaps though, I have never spent so much time with my other mares as I am now with Myrnah: my arm draped across her back, my ribs pressed against hers, our steps and our timing moving as one… and that baby, clearly moving independently from either of us. The movements under Myrnah’s ribs and beside mine don’t feel aggressive or constrained; it just feels like a dance that cannot be contained.

This baby seems to only dance at sunset though. When Myrnah and I ride in the mornings, the baby sleeps quietly though everything. While our morning rides tend to be focused and productive, our evening rides are a wonder as this third character dances amidst our practice.

Myrnah has indeed decided she likes having me ride more than she likes the incessant moving I like to do with her when I am not riding. She likes the peacefulness of putting me up on the mounting block; she likes my still, reverent patience as I let her adjust to and understand carrying weight on her back. She doesn’t seem to mind carrying her dancing baby and me all at the same time- though it is still very new to her, every step a consideration and a thoughtful undertaking.

Myrnah will walk a few steps and then stop to think about it. A careful lean one way and then the other, as though getting the feel for what happens to the weight on her back when she moves, a back up for a step or two, a rest, and then forward again followed by stillness. I am, for the most part, a devoted passenger. I cue gently with my hands and my legs in any direction she chooses, letting her match the feel of my body with the direction of her choice. When Myrnah takes a few steps with more confidence or gives a sigh of relaxation, I jump off and let her contemplate us from a more familiar standpoint.

For most of the week, that was our pattern of practice, our rides lasting for up to five minutes before I would dismount. Today Myrnah felt more confident, allowing me to ask for movement forward, backward, left and right. It is a thrill though me as I ask for a move or a turn with my fingers on her neck and my ankle at her girth… knowing we have practiced this for months from the ground, and yet also knowing I can’t make her do anything she doesn’t choose to do. If I pushed too hard, I think she would escalate her movement until she got me off her back. I am there as a guest; I make no demands, only requests. If I don’t like where she takes me, I am free to get off. Myrnah is not a slave, she is my partner, and this is a discussion between us. Someday, when she trusts me enough, she may allow me to dictate her movement; but for now she reserves the right to ask me to get off, so I had best be polite in my requests for movement.

This baby, however, doesn’t need to be polite at all. He may dance however he chooses, tumbling Myrnah’s belly this way and that while she patiently allows him be the dancer he is. There will be plenty of time to teach him to be polite later on. For now she has her work cut out keeping me in line.

So as the light fades from the sky each night and the silky strains of guitar music fill the air, you can know Myrnah and I will be riding and building our skills together, while this baby does his best to distract us from the seriousness of our endeavors, because this baby is a dancer and will not be denied.

Elsa Sinclair

EquineClarity.com

The Beauty of Adrenaline

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 Beauty of Adrenaline

 

It was a classic Pacific Northwest day: a light and steady rain all morning followed by a pervasive mist falling from the sky for the rest of the daylight hours- a damp, yet beautiful, February day. On this particular day, Myrnah and I had an adventure planned. Sometimes, stepping outside the normal patterns can change the way you look at everything. Step too far and the change feels stressful; step just far enough and the thrill of energy that courses through your veins is intoxicating. Myrnah and I needed something new; we needed to feel the beauty of adrenaline.

 

Without tools to push development on a faster track, we have found ourselves practicing the same tasks over and over for months. Go, stop, turn, back up, walk together, trot together, get on, get off- rinse and repeat. We have often changed the location of practice in areas around our home, but have been cautious about straying into unfamiliar territory. More specifically, strange dogs and random cars in our neighborhood have been seen from a distance and that has been fun- a moment of intensity as I wonder what Myrnah will do about the stress, and she wonders if she needs to do anything at all. Then the moment passes leaving just a little extra energy in its wake.

 

This week Myrnah and I were going somewhere different: a trip in the horse trailer, her first since traveling from southern Oregon with Cleo as wild horses. Myrnah has breakfast in the trailer most days of the week (she has local hay available all the time, it is just the richer eastern Washington timothy hay that gets doled out in smaller quantities in specific locations), so getting in the trailer is nothing out of the ordinary. Driving away and leaving all her friends behind was a completely new experience however.

 

Our destination was a three-acre lot at the San Juan Country Fairgrounds. Used for parking during the fair, it remains empty for the rest of the year. A beautiful combination of woods and grass, well-fenced so encounters with cars and dogs would be limited to what we saw through the fence, it was a perfect first destination. A big thank-you goes out to the caretakers who allowed us to come use the space.

 

Margaret came up from the city to film the event, my daughter, Cameron, walked up from town after her swim lessons to see how it was all evolving, Myrnah and I were there for as long as it took to get home again- that was the thrilling part of the adventure. I really didn’t know how soon Myrnah would be willing to get back in the trailer to go home after the trip to town. I didn’t know how much this adventure would push the edges of her comfort zone. I had a feeling we were ready though.

 

Eleven-thirty on Thursday morning, Margaret pulled in the driveway, set up the video equipment, and we were ready to roll. Myrnah hopped right in the trailer for breakfast. Cleo knew something was up when I brought over one of the school horses to be in the paddock next to her for the day, and we were off.

Traveling, Myrnah did nothing but impress me as usual. She stood loose in the three-horse stock trailer with the relaxed grace I have come to appreciate so much about her. I felt her turn around a couple of times when we were stopped at a stop sign, but, other than that, she seemed to just stand quietly observing the world go by.

Once at the fairgrounds, I let her be in the trailer for a few moments while we got gates closed and the space organized. Myrnah seemed still and patient with a soft eye, licking and chewing as she watched and digested all the changes. I opened the door and she came out gently, yet so beautifully alert. There really is a beauty to adrenaline.

 

For the next hour and a half Myrnah and I alternated traveling and exploring the space together and letting her graze the grass that was far lusher and greener than anything we currently have at home. My favorite moment of the day was when I discovered she would follow me, with ears pricked forward, at the trot when I started to run. The added energy of the new location made speed feel fun for Myrnah instead of the disliked task it usually presents as at home. So we weaved through trees and ran across meadows, played with circles and stops, back-ups and the best part- grazing the green, green grass everywhere underfoot.

The interesting part of the day was when a group of children came out to play in the school yard on the other side of the fence. They were far away, yet the racket they made put Myrnah on high alert; and then, to my dismay, she took control of the situation and trotted off with me running behind until Myrnah had gotten us as far away as she could from the disturbing chaos. I have to admit I was glad for the fence that stopped her; I am not sure I am fit enough to have run as far away as she would have wanted to go. Once she felt safe enough, she reconnected to me, and, little by little, we made our way back to the center of our play area. Our bond felt tenuous after that, as though Myrnah wasn’t sure she could trust my decisions as a leader; but she didn’t distrust me either, she just held tight to her right to leave if the children or the basketball players across the field scared her too much.

For the most part we worked well together with lots of breaks to watch the players across the fence. Every once in a while though Myrnah would lead me in a fast run across the lot to the far side where she felt safer. She didn’t leave me, because I was right there with her, but it was clear she wouldn’t have stopped if I had asked, she took control of the situation and led us to safer ground.

 

After an hour and a half, the people playing in the neighboring field were not so worrisome anymore, and I decided it was time to load up and go home. Myrnah had other ideas.

 

We could approach the trailer and stand at the open door for a brief period of time, and then Myrnah would take definitive action, turning away to go somewhere else. I can stop her, and turn her and ask her to go forward, but I cannot make her do something she doesn’t want to do. She and I both know that.

 

Early on I wrote a blog: “For Every No, There Is a Yes Nearby”. Thursday, loading in the trailer, I definitely leaned on those ideas. For months I have been telling myself I would really like to spend more time walking with Myrnah. It is something horses do together and I feel we both benefit from it- traveling side by side, stride for stride, traveling miles, not just a few minutes, the rhythm and distance building the bond between us. Well, here was my chance. Walking together was the yes Myrnah was offering me; trailer loading was a no until she decided otherwise. Grazing was over for the day; there was hay and water in the trailer and until she decided to head in there, we were moving together.

So we moved. Sometimes, when Myrnah wanted to emphasize how much she didn’t want to get in the trailer, we ran away from it together. I want to practice trotting with her anyway, so it was a win-win situation. Whenever Myrnah wanted to look at the trailer, standing fairly close to it, we could rest. For an hour and a half we traveled together with only brief rests at the trailer. When we were standing there I would move forward a test step towards the trailer to see if I could walk in first to play with the hay and splash in the water bucket, but every time she would turn her head away and tell me she would rather go somewhere else than watch me walk toward the trailer. So that is what we would do, move together some more.

I have to say, about an hour into this trailer project I found myself considering all the contingency ideas: calling someone to come pick up Cameron and take her home for the night. Saying goodbye to Margret and letting go of the filming aspect of the day, bundling up in all my coats and putting on my head lamp so Myrnah and I could just keep traveling together through the dark until she was ready to load into trailer. I was there for the long haul. If Myrnah needed me to jog a marathon with her before she was ready to get in the trailer, that is what we would do. Lucky for me, just after I had figured out all my contingency plans, Myrnah decided she was ready to go home. We were standing resting, looking at the trailer, and this time, when I began to walk forward into it, she kept looking at me. I walked in and splashed in the water bucket and she quietly followed after me. She wasn’t thirsty, but did munch on a little hay. I walked out and closed the big door, reentering by the side door to sit with her, relaxing and listening to her chew before we headed home.

 

The drive home was as uneventful as the drive out had been. Myrnah was happy and relaxed as she stepped out of the trailer, perhaps just a little more alert than usual with the beauty of adrenaline still coursing through us both. Another challenge conquered, the stress proving energizing and fun, the day bonding us together just a little more.

 

Elsa Sinclair

EquineClarity.com 

 

PS The next day, Friday, Myrnah jumped right in the trailer without hesitation. Completely unscarred from the previous day’s adventure, the beauty of adrenaline seemingly all positive this time around. May we always be so lucky as we push forward into the unknown.