confidence | Horsegirl on a Journey

Posts Tagged With: confidence

What you gonna do with a cowboy when that ol’ rooster crows at dawn

Posted on September 14, 2009 by horsegirlonajourney

This past weekend I went to Colorado for the Parelli Gold Summit and stuffed my head full of plans, programs, patterns, and play.

On Sunday, I took a two hour trail ride along the edge of the San Juan National Forest and ended up hanging out with the wrangler for a few hours afterward, as there were no others rides scheduled and I had some time before I had to drive to Durango and catch my plane. I booked the trip with Diamond Hitch Stables on Piedra Road, and every aspect of the experience was a delight.

The trail ride proved to me how far I have come. Twenty years ago, I thought I was supposed to ride with contact and micromanage, because that is what I had learned in my lessons, and it ruined every trail ride I attempted; I send apologies to every one of those horses now. Yesterday though I stayed fluid and balanced and out of Majestic’s way, and she went along and did her job.

The wrangler told me at one point that the mare often tried to eat or brush people against trees, but that she could tell that I was experienced and not going to let her get away with it. I smiled and thanked him for the compliment but inside I laughed, because leadership and confidence while riding have been the two biggest challenges for me since I started Parelli. Majestic was gentle and willing and gave me only one tiny challenge, which I easily handled.

Today here at home I tried several new tactics. When Rock got antsy and engaged in some displaced behavior, I matched his energy by rubbing him like crazy, then releasing as soon as he stopped swinging his head. One of my DVDs shows Linda doing the same thing but it has taken me this long to grok it and learn to do it. I’m still not consistent but hey even a horse gets seven sessions to learn a new pattern.

When he cantered around like a nutball I encouraged his direction changes with a “you want to go that way? okay! go that way faster!” until he asked nicely to come in and stick to me, even at the trot.

I opened gates at both ends of the arena and saddled up, then played on-line around the ranch before taking him to the tack trunk to mount up. There we had quite a while of spaz-rub-release before he stood close and still and ready for me to mount. I rode him into the arena for Follow the Rail, then out the west gate for a loop around the outside of the coverall, then another Follow the Rail (in the opposite direction), then out the back gate for a walk along the coverall and down the berm and across the grass and around the tree then back to the arena and so on.

I combined Point-to-Point on the “trail” with Follow the Rail in the arena, while resisting the temptation to over-explain to Jamie, our super-nice volunteer who works the relief shift on Leslie’s days off, why I was doing what I was doing rather than using a more common (normal) approach. (Jamie is the founder of the Back in the Saddle Project, a program that helps keep horses out of the rescue cycle.)

Rocky is feeling much better now that his feet are almost totally re-grown since his last shoe, and now that he’s on the loading dose of the Adequan. This is great for our ground work but kind of scary for riding. But I rode and trusted him and only once had the feeling of “I better get off!” which I obeyed. This was when he decided to shove his head through the top of the pipe fence and the bottom of the arch above, on the tractor gate that is too short to ride a horse through without lying flat. He extricated himself after I landed, and did not give me any trouble when I climbed the fence to get back on.

I rode for — well, as usual, I have no idea how long. About an hour, I think, which is three times our usual session. We did only one or two backups, but we hit a couple of thresholds, dealt with some wigglywobbly, worked on fluidity and balance, engaged the natural power of focus, did not get discouraged, and one time I even had to give him a thanks-I-needed-that reminder from his back. I didn’t even think about getting off to do it, I just did it, and he went “whew!” and continued on. In that moment, I was not thinking of Linda, but rather of the cowboy who gave me a wonderful day yesterday, and what he did in a similar situation with his horse.

As I write I am consumed by exhaustion, a combination of flight delays that had me driving home in the wee hours through a storm and the rebound fatigue from the motion sickness medicine (which is still way better than motion sickness!). I missed work this morning without realizing I had done so, including a phone meeting that I thought was scheduled for tomorrow, and I feel disoriented and vague.

But I rode my horse, and I saw with rare clarity how far I have come, and I believe that I will indeed make my way out of Level 2 jail. Eventually.

Categories: Freestyle, Leadership | Tags: colorado, confidence, horseback riding, level 2, parelli natural horsemanship, trail riding | 2 Comments

The view from Level 2

Posted on March 1, 2009 by horsegirlonajourney

This past fortnight I find that I have finally accepted, with a combination of wonder and chagrin (“well, DUH”), that I am solidly Level 2. Not just safe, but confident. I am working to shed the habit of seeing all other horse people as experts and me as a wannabe, and have had some success recently in keeping self-abasing comments from flying out my mouth.

One form of proof is on the posters on my wall. In On-Line savvy we’re almost to Level 3 patterns. In Freestyle, we’re 9 sessions from the first Level 2 pattern.

In relationship, we’re in early Level 2, as we’ve yet to start Liberty. But we’re doing almost all our play with the belly of the 22-foot line on the ground…

Even more important than our tasks, patterns, self-assessment checklists: I see so much more. And I’m developing what Bill Dorrance calls feel.

The best horsemen say the horse is the best teacher. ~ Bill Dorrance

I noticed recently that Rocky felt “off” even though I couldn’t see it for sure. When the vet came out yesterday for the semi-annual vaccinations, I asked him to look. Sure enough, Rocky was ouchy in both front feet. Makes sense as his September injections would be wearing off by now. The vet blocked his heels and we circled around again: totally sound.

I admit I flushed with silent pride as Rocky beautifully responded to my cues to jog, trot, and extended trot (or, in our parlance, Easy Trot, Big Trot, and Evil Trot). He asked questions, he offered more than I asked and offered it before I asked, and he came in with a happy face and a big sigh — even when his feet were still hurting.

For what the horse does under compulsion, as Simon also observes, is done without understanding; and there is no beauty in it either, any more than if one should whip and spur a dancer. ~ Xenophon

A year ago I couldn’t tell if a horse was tense or achy or afraid until it was practically shouting; now I’m hearing Rocky’s soft voice, and I’m starting to hear him whisper. What I could not see for sure in his trot — was that a head bob? is that a wince? — I could feel.

This is HUGE, for me. I have never had feel with horses like I do with dogs. (I can tell what Jedi is thinking from across the country, sometimes.) Parelli gives me an intellectual framework and specific metrics to put around horsemanship. Life-altering, that. “Simple” things. Not just “Is the horse afraid” but “Is his head high, is he blinking, is his tail clamped, are his nostrils wide, are his feet moving, are his ears still.”

And I’m starting not to need to run down the mental checklist, but without it, I’d have stayed in the scary dark.

He knows when you’re happy
He knows when you’re comfortable
He knows when you’re confident
And he always knows when you have carrots.
~Author Unknown

Yesterday, I wanted Rocky to stand calmly with me, on-line, while we waited our turn with the vet. Every time he stepped closer to me, I yo-yoed him back until his front feet were behind a particularly flat rock in the gravel drive.

In the past, I’d be told “Don’t let him crowd you” but I didn’t quite know what that meant; and I was flattered that the horse even wanted to be near me (heh). It seemed like everyone else had this sense of where the horse had been standing and where he was standing now and where to put him back exactly; no one ever thought to say “I just line him up with that fence post/tree/manure pile and if he crosses that line, I back him up.”

It’s entirely possible that’s what most people do and it’s so obvious to them they don’t think to say it aloud, but I didn’t grok it until Parelli. (Specifically, I think it dawned on me when learning Sideways Without A Fence, focusing on something in the environment to be able to tell if Rocky drifted forward or back.)

With Level 2 savvy I now understand why to keep Rocky where I put him (reinforce his sense of safety and comfort in my leadership, play a little game of who can out-persist whom) and how to do it (find a marker, use it consistently, keep my feet still).

Before I can get one thing done, I have to do two other things, one of which is impossible. — Jerry Pournelle? (paraphrased)

For the first time, I believe one hundred percent that I will reach higher levels of communication, understanding, and fun with horses. I don’t feel stuck on a learning plateau, nor am I bravely accepting that even if it never gets any better than this, that’s okay because this is so much better than it’s ever been. Even more astonishing: I believe I’m going to become a fluid, confident rider, on obstacle courses and trails, despite the bum knee. Not just hope, but believe.

I can feel it.