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Boundaries

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.

 

Boundaries

Little Errai seems to be as precocious as he is adorable. Myrnah continues to be the perfect mother and the picture of unconditional love and adoration toward her little one. This week is all about boundaries- recognizing them, expanding them, and laying down new ones.

As we live in community, the boundaries we create are all about the comfort of the individuals within the group. If the individuals are comfortable, then the group is comfortable. However, coming to some decision among individuals about where those boundaries stand can be a work in process and change from day to day.

Because Errai is so precocious and social, we hope to move him and Myrnah out into the herd sooner rather than later. It seems like he is just dancing with excitement over the idea of thirteen aunts and uncles to bounce off of in his process of growing up. In preparation we have been putting horses in with Myrnah and Errai in small groups of ones, twos, and threes, allowing Myrnah to get used to the idea of sharing her colt with the larger group and allowing her to set whatever boundaries she needs to feel comfortable.

For the most part Errai is so excited to go visit with the new horses and Myrnah chases them away, making it clear she is not ready for him to socialize with the equine herd just yet. She lays the boundary close around her foal with people and herself the only approved playmates for Errai. When Errai is asleep, the other horses are allowed to graze quite close to him and Myrnah seems completely relaxed about it; she has set the boundary and is confident they will respect it, not touching him even if they come close. When Errai is up and about, though, Myrnah has less control of the situation and sends the horses farther away to make it clear to Errai they are not for him yet. Myrnah expresses unconditional love and appreciation for her foal with a fierce control of the outside world, setting it up in Errai’s best interest.

Interestingly, on Tuesday this week, Myrnah started to let those boundaries stretch. Errai, wanted so much to go talk to Saavedra and Theo, so he would give a little whinny and take a few steps toward them, and then pause and do it again over and over until he got within a couple of feet. Myrnah grazed calmly a little ways away not interrupting this time. However, when he got there, Saavedra pinned her ears and shook her nose at him, and he spun around galloping back to his Mum, boundaries remaining intact.

Later that afternoon the big gelding, Ram, was in with mare and foal, and finally Errai was allowed some outside contact. Nosing at Ram’s tail and back legs in his ever curious way, Errai was allowed to stretch his boundaries a little farther this time. Ram, however, seemed to recognize the boundary being stretched and wanted nothing more than to get away from Errai and out of that paddock. I guess a protective mother is something to be respected, and, even if she looks calm and allowing, the other horses recognize they are in delicate territory talking to her precious little one. Little by little and day by day I am sure they will come to an understanding of boundaries that is comfortable for everyone.

The boundary that has focused my attention most this week is the one between Errai and his devoted following of people. Everyone loves and adores him, Myrnah is completely at ease sharing him with people, and Errai is thrilled to have people around to amuse him, showing it in so many ways. The conversations he and I have back and forth when I show up are so much fun! A whinny from him, a greeting from me, another whinny from him, another greeting from me, and so on for sometimes five or six repetitions. When Errai sees someone enter his small pasture, he will leave his mother at a gallop to come visit. That sight of a horse galloping straight at you with no hesitation, just pure joy that you are finally there to see him, is quite something.

Once Errai gets close though, there is a boundary to be set. Biting and striking, while natural, fun, playful actions between colts, have no place in the horse-human relationship I aim to foster. So no matter how adorable his draw to people is, Errai must be pushed away if any of those dominant behaviors come into play. The question is: How to set a boundary without using fear to get respect for this boundary? Right now I aim not to startle or strike, just to simply and firmly push Errai away to make it clear he crossed a line. The theory is “backing cures biting”. If I can find ways to cause Errai to back off if he crosses the line without threatening or startling him, that is my preference. Then I just hope we develop good habits and patterns before he gets too big to affect this simply.

The most fun and effective application of this boundary, however, was set between a visitor, David, and little Errai the other day. David and Errai met at the fence to greet each other. I asked David to walk away if Errai started to bite, allowing the fence to be the clear boundary. The inevitable happened, and David walked away to re-approach farther down the fence line. Little Errai figured out after only a few repetitions that he only got to keep visiting with this fabulous person if he kept his teeth to himself. David’s timing must have been just right for Errai to understand that day because Errai became instantly smitten with this new person, following him along the fence line, attention riveted, and so quiet and respectful whenever David did come close. A beautiful demonstration of reward (having your new best friend stay close when you treat him well) can work ever so much better than punishment or negative reinforcement.

The other boundary that has been stretched this week was that of territory Myrnah and I ride in. Stepping outside the gates of the orchard nursery into the larger field to ride was wonderful. The chance to stretch legs and move in longer straight lines was appreciated by Myrnah and Errai and myself. While a walk and trot and a little canter is plenty to keep Myrnah and me happy at this juncture, Errai was thrilled to stretch his legs to their fastest speeds. It will be wonderful to see him out with the larger herd in the larger pastures all the time soon.

So here is to boundaries- set, stretched, enforced, and discussed among individuals. Ever evolving, they keep us comfortable, living together in community.

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

Playing with Stress

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.

 

 

Playing with Stress

Myrnah and I are still waiting for this foal. I think we have a couple more weeks to wait, yet this stage of pregnancy and the waiting involved seem to be stressful for both Myrnah and me. My mare who has been so rock solid through all the life changes we have experienced together is all of the sudden a different horse. When stress levels are up, life’s simple occurrences can cause an unwarranted intensity of reaction. The birds fluttering in and out of the bushes used to be a back drop for life, now who knows which bird is going to cause Myrnah to jump out of her skin, heart racing, causing both of us to search high and low for the saber-toothed tiger that must be lurking nearby. Looking for that tiger every few minutes is exhausting and stressful all on its own. Holding a level of tension that makes hyper vigilance, shock, and reaction likely is not a fun way to live. All other goals aside, this week has been simply about playing with stress. What can we do to lower the stress and make life easier to live in these last weeks of Myrnah’s pregnancy?

There are three solutions I know of to lower stress: movement, stillness and connection. As Myrnah becomes larger and her physical comfort decreases I think she moves around the pasture less. When she becomes still that baby is still dancing a salsa inside her belly and being utterly distracting from any sense of quiet or peace. Adding to those two factors it becomes more and more challenging for Myrnah to connect with me, or the herd, if she feels stressed, reactive, hyper focused on perceived danger, or spacey and unfocused in a rebound from being hyper focused a moment before.

 

What is stress? I think emotional stress is simply the energy you feel when life isn’t the way you want it to be, and you feel powerless to change it for the better. Stress can be good and it can be bad; the trick is to play with it in a way that brings the most benefit possible. We stress a muscle to make it stronger. We can’t make a muscle stronger without the stress to motivate change. Stress too much and you create injury; stress too little and the resulting change is little to none. In order to play with emotional stress we need to look at it the same way we look at the physical.

 

Myrnah is going through huge physical changes right now; her physical stress and her emotional stress are all intertwined. So the question for me is: what can I do to help Myrnah feel a personal power to make her life better?

Movement, stillness, and connection- first things first, we move together, side by side, shoulder to shoulder; we walk as far and as quietly as we need to. Doing it together gives us both a sense of connection. When that bird, dressed as a saber-toothed tiger, comes out of the bushes at us, after the reactionary leap we practice stillness for as long as Myrnah needs. Her ears pricked, eyes scanning every shadow for possible danger, she just needs to be still until she feels safe enough to move again. Once her heart rate has calmed and her hyper vigilance softened, we move again- step for step, each moment of rhythmic footfall bringing confidence back into the picture.

 

When I show up in the morning and Myrnah and I take our customary walk to the trailer for breakfast, some days she is connected and calm, and the trip takes only a moment. Other days, if Myrnah is stressed, it can take up to an hour to travel the hundred steps from the barn to the trailer as we weave loops and circles, double back, and start again, movement and stillness alternating until she has the confidence to walk that short distance up the hill.

 

Some mornings she stomps in the trailer and eats her handful of vitamins with gusto; some mornings all she can manage is a bite before she bolts out of the trailer telling me she is too worried and stressed to eat. So we walk some more, and rest some more, and I let her know I am there for her. Whether she feels connected or not, I am right there for her to connect with any time. Once we have walked for long enough, and the emotional stress has lowered, she can then walk into the trailer, finish her breakfast in peace, and we are ready to move on to other things.

 

I long for the calm and steady mare I brought home with me from southern Oregon in August. Yet I have to trust that making it through the stress she feels now in these last weeks of pregnancy is going to make us stronger together. It isn’t her fault that she feels the way she does. The changes she is experiencing internally are huge. If I can help her learn how to move and be still and connect in ways that lower her emotional stress, then hopefully the physical changes that she has no control over will be building and strengthening instead of overwhelming.

This week has been about playing with stress. The best way I know to lessen the negative consequences and increase the positive are to make it a game. Life is supposed to be fun as well as challenging.

 

Elsa Sinclair

Equine Clarity.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

The Grass is Always Greener…

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 Grass is Always Greener…

Spring is springing here in the Northwest and a brilliant emerald carpet is emerging everywhere, green with the lush irresistible scent of spring. Though Myrnah is out on the pasture with her herd every day, there is that irrefutable idea: The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.

The paddocks we are holding aside for Myrnah to foal in and use as her nursery are the most beautiful places to graze in the valley. At this point they are also the driest and easiest places for Myrnah and me to practice our skills each day. I think this works both for and against us. On the one hand, Myrnah is often frustrated when I insist on practicing our movements together instead of allowing her to eat nonstop as would be her preference. On the other hand, that green, green grass becomes a perfect reward for extra effort and remarkable moments of development.

In the middle of this paddock we have been practicing in, there is a small jump- a simple cavaletti that can be rolled so it is a pole on the ground, or a pole raised a foot or so off the ground. Here is a sequence of pictures taken the first time Myrnah followed me over that obstacle.

Upon reaching the other side she touched my hand with her nose, and I dropped down to let her graze for awhile; little did I know how incredibly powerful that reward system would turn out to be. In no time at all going over that cavaletti was all she wanted to do. So I added challenge to the game. As soon as she started to step over the pole I would run away, so she had to run after me to touch my hand before she could have her coveted bit of grass. The runs became longer and faster, and for the first time ever I had Myrnah cantering WITH me.

Setting up a pattern Myrnah understood, with a goal in mind that she wanted to get to, all of a sudden made the practice of speed a viable game for us. I had been trying to figure out how to develop our canter together; I just had no idea she would want to start jumping before she was inspired to canter with me. As I made the game faster I thought she would lose interest, but surprisingly I was wrong. That jump was still her favorite game. Over and over again she wanted to play. I even challenged her by seeing how long I could steer her away from the cavaletti before I finally allowed Myrnah her jump, canter away, and grazing moment. She certainly was frustrated by my game of keep away, but a few minutes of frustration seemed to feed her desire. Not only is the grass greener on the other side of the fence, it is also greener on the other side of a jump!

Now I am sure, being pregnant, and less than graceful right now gives Myrnah good reason to prefer grazing and grooming and quiet still games with me, over the speed and riding games I continue to want to play. So if I can add a little incentive of coveted grass beyond her everyday travels of the pasture, I think that is a good thing.

Riding is progressing beautifully. Yes, we still have our willful moments where neither of us wants to give over leadership to the other. Those moments are shorter and shorter lived though and our patterns of travel continue to develop. Walking, stopping, and backing up are all pretty easy for us now, though our walks are broken up by a multitude of volunteered stops where Myrnah asks if she can please graze now? Bending to a stop, my fingertips on the side of her neck asking her to bring her nose around and touch my foot is a solid skill, since I usually ask for that just before I let her graze. Turning and changing direction at walk are still a major discussion point; Myrnah is not sure why I get to make so many decisions when she is the one carrying me.

The most fun though is the trot. Today, for the first time, Myrnah started offering the trot and maintaining it for longer and longer stretches. Her trot has a sort of passage feel to it- light and elevated- I think because with every step she is wondering if she has gone far enough to have earned a grazing break. She doesn’t really want to go anywhere; she is just doing her best to please me so we can get back to the eating part of the exercise.

When I am riding I make sure the jump is at its lowest setting with the pole right on the ground. Small and simple as it is, I am still thrilled when Myrnah decides carrying me over an obstacle is fun, and trotting away from the jump becomes patterned and simple for us. I have a feeling we are still a long way from riding a canter together, but who knows… progress is never linear. Sometimes it moves in leaps and bounds when you least expect it to.

For now I will continue to revel in the beautiful moments, reward Myrnah often with the time grazing she longs for, and develop our skills one small step at a time.

The grass is always greener when you have to work a little to earn it. May our challenges always be in balance with our rewards.

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

Sitting on the Edge

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.

 

 

Sitting on the Edge

 

Buffeting winds, snow storms, and rain coming in sideways… indeed, here we are in March. With the elements at extremes this week, Myrnah and I found ourselves sitting on the edge of comfort as we rode together. The new wide-open pastures, herd mates to keep an eye on, and weather to brace oneself against have all lent an exciting edge to our practice.

 

Myrnah is settling into her new home flawlessly; from watching her go out in the pasture every morning to watching her saunter in again every evening, she seems the picture of relaxed contentment, completely at ease with all her new horse friends. I find myself wishing I had done all my training in such an open, natural, herd-based situation. Yet the weather I mentioned above has left the ground a sopping-wet, squishy, squelching mess to walk around in, reminding me why we pull horses into the dry paddocks for the winter months. So Myrnah and I tread lightly, pretending we are just kids playing in mud puddles, and trust that summer is indeed just around the corner.

 

After her move, I gave Myrnah a couple of days adjustment time in her new space, asking very little as she got used to her new surroundings. Come Monday it was time to get back to work, regardless of the wind. Walking around the puddled grass paddocks, side by side, practicing our turns and stops, backups, and transitions of speed gave me a chance to assess Myrnah in her new space. What I found was my seemingly perfectly adjusted mare was carrying a level of tension imperceptible to the casual eye. My hand resting in her fur could feel the clench of muscles and the unusual brace against requests from me. She was trying to do all I asked, yet her internal comfort was on the edge of panic. Between the new space and the weather and the life changes, Myrnah’s confidence was stretched thin.

Like a mountain climber who sits on the edge of cliffs with nonchalance the rest of us envy, Myrnah too needs to get comfortable on the edge. Her edge is more metaphorical in nature, yet it is an edge that will always be there as life throws unexpected twists and turns her way. This week, for Myrnah and me, was about sitting on the edge of comfort and getting comfortable with the added energy and uncertainty of life.

 

Monday we practiced our groundwork, and then, when I got on from an old stump in the paddock, I could feel Myrnah humming with excitement, every muscle braced for flight. I got on and off, and walked with her some more, and got on and off again. Finally, when I thought she could handle it, I stayed on. The wind was howling, and I could feel her struggling against the gusts as she balanced my weight and hers. The exercise that felt so easy the week before in the calm of the high valley paddocks now challenged Myrnah to the very edge of what she could handle. In order to get comfortable with this higher energy, she needed a way to keep lowering her internal stress, and we needed to be careful we didn’t add to it. Like a mountain climber sitting on the edge of a cliff, there was not a lot of room for error here on the edge of comfort.

 

So Monday, I suggested she just graze while I sat on her back. The calming, repetitive ripping of new green shoots gave her just enough relief from the other tensions around us that she was able to sit with me and be less than comfortable without needing to run from the feelings. For me, the feeling of her bracing against the gusts of wind as she moved one hesitant step at a time to reach the next bit of grass was completely thrilling in its own way. Every step I asked myself: Can she handle this? Can I sit on her a little longer without overwhelming her? To find the answer was yes again and again, was intensely gratifying in the simplest way.

Tuesday, we did more of the same, only this time venturing farther away from the herd to explore new spaces on the hill above. Not so much wind, but swirling white snow blizzarding around us, lent its own dizzying excitement to the adventure. The first time I asked Myrnah to walk when I was riding, I found I had pushed the edge too far and all her muscles bunched up in reaction. I jumped off as she threw a couple of little bucks, and so we did some more ground work together until her tension lowered and we were able to find a place on the edge of comfort that didn’t feel so precarious. When I got on again, we took travel one very tentative step at a time, stopping often to graze, traveling just a little, and then stopping to graze again.

 

Wednesday, we stayed closer to the herd, but found we were ready to graze less and travel more, even with me riding. When I would feel Myrnah’s muscles bunch up and stress start to overwhelm her, we would just stop and sit with it. Given time, she would take a deep breath and let me know she was ready again. It was a dance through the sideways-sleeting rain. Travel, feel the stress, back off, stop, think about it, realize it wasn’t as frightening as was thought before, and travel again: these things take time, yet have immeasurable value. The ability to push oneself to the edge of comfort and not panic increases the ability to learn, increases the day to day enjoyment of life, and lets the unexpected things that come up become fun instead of frightening.

 

All in all, I am brilliantly impressed with my three-year-old mare, Myrnah. The challenges she has faced with grace over the last couple of weeks are really quite amazing. How many horses do you know who can join a new herd in a new pasture, and then be ridden bridleless and bareback away from the herd to explore new spaces? In my experience that is asking a lot of a horse, and Myrnah has far surpassed that when you consider she is only seven months off the range, three-years old, and been ridden perhaps only ten or fifteen times in her life so far.

This mare has me sitting on the edge of comfort too. The feeling is both thrilling and calming, an intensity of focus and uncertainty, excitement and quiet reassurance from deep within, all melding into a way of being that feels beautiful beyond belief. It takes time to develop, and yet having that comfort on the edge pays dividends that make it well worth the effort.

 

So here is to wind and weather, new spaces, new horizons, and sitting on the edge of comfort until it too becomes comfortable.

 

Elsa Sinclair

EquineClarity.com

Attention

 

 

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.

 

 

 

Attention

All of us are either moving toward something we want, or away from something we don’t want. Usually it is some combination of the two that motivates us; however, if we can break it down to the simplest equation, life gets easier to understand. What are we paying attention to, and are we moving towards it, or away from it? Are we moving towards the life we want? Or are we running from the life we are afraid of?

This past weekend I attended a workshop put on by a mounted policeman, Bill Richey. Two days of smoke bombs, flares, lines of fire, hanging plastic, bridges, barking dogs, police cars, sirens and lights. I had intended to ride my mustang, Saavedra, through all this; however, she hurt herself a few weeks beforehand and left me without a ride. Several people jokingly suggested I take Myrnah and I laughed saying, maybe next year.

This time around my dear friend, Heather, jumped at the chance to send her four-year-old Gypsy horse Sage through the course with me. So Friday we loaded up the trailer with Cameron’s horse, Maharrah, Maggie’s horse, Joy, Sage as my mount, and we were off to Butler Hill Equestrian Center. For any of you interested there will be more of these clinics offered at Butler Hill. They do a wonderful job of putting them on, and everyone walks out of the clinic far more confident in day to day life than they arrived.

Throughout the workshop I had a great deal of time to watch and think about how things work. Sage, true to his Gypsy lineage, is a pro at handling chaos; so I got to sit back and watch the show everyone else put on as we walked through the obstacles. Starting with a simple sheet of plywood we formed a line and walked over it again and again until most everyone was OK with it. Then we added a bridge, walking around in a circle over the bridge and then over the plywood until everyone was fine with that… and so the obstacle practice continued. For the less tangible obstacles like noise, we rode drill patterns weaving in and out of the other horses, walking steadily on until the horses got used to the whistles, sirens, barking dog and so on. By day two everyone had progressed to navigating bridges with visually impenetrable smoke billowing from beneath, crossing lines of fire, and walking under hanging tarps and swinging curtains of clattering pipes.

All day I watched horses wrestling with the choice to run away or move forward where their riders asked and I came to this conclusion: a bridle is simply an attention-getting device. As you ride a horse toward an obstacle he is afraid of, his first instinct is to look for his escape route, and then run away. The bridle, depending on its severity and the horse’s willingness to have his attention directed, allows us to insist the horse pay attention to where we want him to go. If you cause enough pain, you can grab anyone’s attention, at least for a moment. Once the horse is looking in the right direction, pressure on the bridle releases, pain goes away, and the horse starts thinking perhaps the thing he was afraid of is actually less painful than the escape route he thought he wanted to take. And so, little by little, the horse learns that moving toward something his rider directs him to is far more pleasant than running away from something he thinks he might be afraid of.

We are all constantly weighing our options with more or less awareness depending on our stress levels. What feels better- what feels worse, it doesn’t have to be logical or rational. It is just that simple emotionally: we all want to feel better, and we will do whatever it takes. Horses run into burning barns because the familiarity of their stall feels better than the unfamiliar outside. People on a runaway horse will scream at the top of their lungs, not because it’s the smart thing to do, just because the scream makes them feel better.

We all do stupid things sometimes in an effort to feel better. What kind of pain, or attention-getting device would it take to redirect our attention and look at the other options? Here is what I think: the lower the stress levels, the more aware we can be about redirecting our attention. The higher the stress levels, the more pain it will take to redirect our attention. The beautiful thing about taking Sage, the Gypsy horse, through the course this past weekend was, he naturally doesn’t carry much stress. So riding him in a halter was easy. Add to that the nature of the course and the constant rhythmic walking we all did for hours on end, whatever stress was coming up was constantly being drained away. The less stressed we are carrying, the smarter we get and the clearer we can see options of where to move forward instead of panicking and running away.

So that brings me back to Myrnah and our training with no tools. If I don’t have a bridle as an attention-getting device, what will I do when she wants to go somewhere I do not want to go? What do I do when she decides something is frightening and she needs to run from it?

For now the working hypothesis is: Attention Attention Attention! I have to train her to bring her attention back to me or back to the the direction I choose over and over again. I have to train that habit in her so strongly that I don’t need pain to get it. I need to use persistence and timing to teach her to yield to the pressure of my fingertips. She needs to become patterned to yielding her attention whenever I ask, over and over and over again in low stress situations, so when stress increases in any given situation she has a pattern of behavior with me that will hopefully circumvent the need for a bridle.

This week we took our riding outside the paddocks and around the circle driveway. Slowly Myrnah’s confidence builds and she is willing to walk twelve steps instead of just seven, and then fifteen, and then more between each pause to gather her thoughts. Her deep breaths come more often, and I can feel the stress draining away as we travel together. My rides still only last for five minutes or less, but after a rest I jump on and we play again.

Wednesday we encountered a slight downhill, and as my weight shifted Myrnah lost confidence and gave a scoot and a buck. I jumped off and had her practice backing up the slight incline. Shifting her weight back will help her balance my extra weight as she carries me over terrain. If I had a bridle on her I could have quickly redirected her attention, helping her find her balance on the slope. Without a bridle and with her current stress levels about carrying weight, I didn’t have enough pressure to redirect her attention while I was on her. So I do whatever I need to do. Jump down, talk to her from a position she can hear me from, and then I can get back on to see what we can do together- after patterns of attention directing have been reestablished.

I never said this was the fastest way to train a horse, but I am without doubt learning more about how everything works through this process and Myrnah’s help. When Myrnah and I do get it right and I can get her attention with a whisper instead of a shout, every moment we spent getting there feels worth it.

So here is to redirecting attention and getting smarter as we figure out how to move forward into a life that feels better.

Elsa Sinclair

EquineClarity.com