Trust & Pixie Dust

“All the world is made of faith, and trust, and pixie dust.”
                                                     -JM Barrie, Peter Pan

We’re freshly returned from a very, very needed vacation on an isolated island in the Abaco Islands. It was a lovely experience for the most part and it brought one thing clearly to the forefront of my mind.  My world revolves around trust.

I’m not a big fan of heights.  From that you could correctly conjecture that I am not a big fan of flying.  I don’t vomit, take sleeping pills or claw my neighbor, but I generally spend much of the flight practicing my Zen breathing or something like that.  As one of our flights made a sudden lurch, leaving my stomach with a distinctly weightless feeling, I tried to reassure myself by rehashing everything I know about aerodynamics.  It didn’t help much.  I found myself pondering air as a liquid and contemplating how much I trusted that “liquid” to keep the tin can I was riding in afloat. 

Days later, I jumped off the dive boat, splashed into the water and ducked my masked face under water.  Have you ever tried hyperventilating through a snorkel?  Maybe we should all wear them before Dressage.  I don’t know why I have such apprehension for the first few minutes I’m in the water.  I’m a fairly strong swimmer, the water has never failed to hold me up or offered to pull me down, yet the apprehension remains as evidenced by my Darth Vader impression.  I once again found my thoughts straying to the idea of trust.  Logically, I know salt water + wet suit + me = a happily floating snorkeler, but I haven’t learned to trust that combination until tested and if its tested, is it still trust?

This was the first vacation I’ve taken that was with a group of people other than my family.  I didn’t do a lot of the planning.  I didn’t print out two hundred pages of research before heading out the door.  I just trusted the others in the group and went along.  I was elected the D.D. of our boat for obvious and predictable reasons (I’m the only one who doesn’t much care for Rum), and that was almost our undoing.  They trusted me, but I didn’t trust myself.  A couple of hairy moments and a mild panic attack/hissy fit later and we were safely docked for the first time.  Turns out even when I was having a meltdown, I could still trust the team to get ‘er done safely.  As the week went on I trusted the group and my ability to pilot the boat more and more and we ended up having many safe an uneventful boat trips around the islands, but it was only because of trust.

So why do I so easily trust my horses, these 1000 lb. plus animals, to keep me on top, jump when I say jump, stop when I ask, miss me when they kick and come when I call?  Why do I find peace when I settle into the saddle instead of the apprehension that so many other tasks in life bring?  And moreover, how do I teach others to find that freeing calm?

A wise woman once said, much more eloquently than I, “I was terrified until I had a plan for what to do if things didn’t go as planned.”  I guess I’ve spent enough time around horses that I always have a plan.  It’s ingrained so deeply into my brain that I don’t even have to think about it.  By not second guessing myself or my horse, I free myself.  So here’s a Fresh Perspective, if you’re struggling with a concept or movement, trying letting go and trusting yourself and your horse.  If that doesn’t work, you better try the pixie dust.

Silly Fun

“Mix a little foolishness with your serious plans.  It is lovely to be silly at the right moment.”

                                                                                                                            -          Horace

Silly Fun, that’s what I was hoping for as I loaded Admiral up for our trip to Longview.  Entering Admiral in the Starter division wasn’t my Plan A for the start of our eventing season.  Heading to Longview with one cross country school, one dressage school, and a couple of hacks up the gravel road was not the best preparation I could have hoped for.  Inches of rain, week after week, plus a surprise snow scattered in here and there to keep things interesting, did not prepare the footing the way anyone wanted.  But that’s what we got and so we made silly fun of it.

Eventing isn’t cheap, but that doesn’t mean it has to be all business.  If at the end of the day you and your horse make it home safely, it’s perfectly acceptable to have a little fun along the way.  Admiral and I did just that.

Keeping it chill before Dressage.

We didn’t even canter in our dressage warm-up, just kept it chill.  We put forth an acceptable test.  It wasn’t grand, but we managed to do our test on the rail instead of on the quarter lines and that was a big improvement from the first test.  I also caught myself being a thinking rider.  Instead of just trotting around the outside of the ring in the well-worn track five feet from the fence, I took the time to move Admiral over right next to the scary white fence before the test started.  Seems pretty straight forward, but it’s something I hadn’t thought of before right then.  Score one for me.  We were still counter bent and above the bit for most of the test, but we had two nice halts, so score one for Admiral too.

Killer Log

Admiral’s confidence was not high in the cross country warm-up.  There was a large and in-charge horse bouncing around that really bothered him.  Can’t say I blame him much and after regaining my balance after every spook, I couldn’t help but giggle and my frisky little guy.  Trying to regain Admiral’s composure, we literally walked out of the start box.  There was no optimum time for the Starter division, so we could have walked the whole course.  My competitive streak kicked in and I tried to trot to the first jump before I really had his brain.  It was a bad call and it resulted in a highly embarrassing refusal.  Oh well, you just have to laugh when your horse thinks a six inch log is going to eat him alive.  We got around the rest of the course, all be it a bit tentatively.  We may have taken a slightly longer route then was necessary.  We were just cooking along at such a lightning speed that I thought I was riding Novice and headed straight for the water jump.  Spotting my tiny little cabin over on the left reminded me I forgot to navigate through the scary tree line, so back we went.  No harm done, after all, there was no optimum time; we were just out for a trot in the park.

Show Jumping was Admiral’s crowning moment.  We trotted to the first fence just to make sure and he locked on and was ready for more.  He cantered around the rest of his course like a trouper.  Our turns could have been more balanced, but he was honest and happy.  We crossed the finish line with a big smile on my face and exuberance in his step.

The weekend was made even more fun with the addition of some very special spectators.  Both the mother-in-law and my mother and father made appearances over the Mother’s Day weekend.  Admiral’s original owner and breeder was able to make it out both days to see Admiral.  I was incredibly proud to help Admiral earn the TIP (Thoroughbred Incentive Program) Award for being the best placed OTTB (off-the-track-thoroughbred) in his division and to have his breeder there made it even better.  Plus we received some fun prizes, beautiful ribbons, and a TIP saddle pad Admiral will wear with pride.
It was a good weekend, a silly weekend, and a great opportunity to just kick back and enjoy a lifestyle that has eluded me for years.  With the husband at home with the dog and my phone beeping no battery, I was able to unplug from my normal life and resubmerge myself in horses, pony club, good friends, and did I mention horses.  Oh how I miss just sitting on my tack trunk, watching Admiral nibble hay, and cleaning my tack.  It’s a good place.  I’m so glad I decided it was okay to be silly. 

 

Christopher Morley said, “Read, every day, something no one else is reading.  Think, every day, something no one else is thinking.  Do, every day, something no one else would be silly enough to do.  It is bad for the mind to continually be part of unanimity.”  With all the technology today spatting our thoughts and the thoughts of others at us continuously, it is very easy to just drift along absorbing the constant flow around us.  We feel “connected” when we are really just one of many individuals going through the exact same motions, brainwashing ourselves to believe we care.  It’s time for a Fresh Perspective.  Turn up stream.  Pick up a book instead your phone.  Ponder a thought that is only your own and do something silly.  You’ll feel more alive.  I'm off to spend an entire week being nothing but silly.  The horses will be taking a short holiday and surely making some silliness of their own.

Pride Before the Fall?

I’m grinning from ear to ear.  I just got off the phone with Admiral’s first mommy.  It’s probably been seven years since I spoke with her and she’s seen Admiral, but through some hard work of a dear family friend, we found her phone number.

You never know with race horse breeders whether they really care about their animals or not, but I always got the impression that this lady truly did.  Deep in my heart I knew she’d appreciate hearing how Admiral was doing.  Still as the beep on her answering machine sounded, the butterflies in my stomach started doing loop-de-loops.  Would she be happy for Admiral?  Would she approve of him now?  Would she even remember us and return our call?  And most of all, why do I care?

"I Dare you to not LOVE me!"

About an hour later my caller-id flashed her name and the butterflies started swarming.  How can I gallop cross-country with steel cool nerves, yet a silly little telephone call makes my hands sweat?  Needless to say she remembered us.  She was delighted to hear that Admiral was eventing.  I had to explain that Admiral has had a couple of tough years and he isn’t competing at the level he’s capable of, but she was still just thrilled.  Then came the icing on the cake.

When I originally left the message, my nerves got the best of me and I told her Admiral would be in Kansas City showing last weekend.  When she questioned me on it and discovered she could quite possibly come visit him at the show this weekend, I think it made both our days.  She was thrilled and subsequently, so am I.

I wish we were better prepared.  I wish I could show her what he’s really capable of.  But I know that it’s going to be enough for her to see him happy, healthy, and smothered in love.  Admiral’s always in his element at a show.  He thinks all the adoring fans are there just for him and this lady will be.  She’s coming just to see him.  I hope he feels have as special as I do right now.


Pondering the future.

Lately I’ve been challenged by several people to consider why I do what I do.  What drives me?  What is it that I’m looking for?   I hate to say it, but I’m afraid its pride.  The hours spent scrubbing caked on clay off the ponies every night.  I love it, not just for the peace and quiet, but for the pride I get from their sleek appearance.  Why do I happily pour money down their throats?  For the pride I get from knowing that they are being cared for in the best possible way.  Why do I meticulously clean my tack with a tooth pick or wipe the butt bars of the trailer down with baby wipes?  It’s pride.  Problem is, “Pride Goeth Before the Fall.”  I sure hope not. 

I needed a Fresh Perspective on Pride.  Is it always a bad thing?  I turned to the handy-dandy thesaurus.  Turns out Pride can go one of three ways.  First, arrogance as in conceit, smugness, egotism, vanity and superiority.    I think that’s the pride we think of most often and that’s the pride I’m trying to avoid.  There are times when I’m tempted to play the comparison game, but horses are so good at stomping all over that kind of pride.  It’s nice (really, it is) that they routinely remind me of my place. 

Then there is self-respect pride as in dignity and honor.  Self-respect is important.  It’s also important to respect others.  Again, I think horses are really good at teaching respect.  You just have to respect a thousand plus pound animal.  Plus spend some time gazing into a horse’s eye.  It’s a pool of dignity and honor.  Some of that is sure to rub off on anyone who is aware of it.

Finally, there is the self-satisfaction pride.  Pleasure, delight, gratification, enjoyment, happiness.  Yep, that’s the pride I find in caring for my horses and that’s what I want to find in all my work.  I guess pride really was the right word.  When I hung up the phone, I was beaming with pride and she hasn’t even seen him yet.