Zen Horses

A Facebook friend recently posted “10 Thoughts on Zen.”  It struck a chord deep inside of me and I printed them out for future contemplation.  As with most things I print, I tucked it behind my computer and quickly forgot about it.  Thank goodness for desk cleaning!  A quick re-read revealed why I liked it so much.  It wasn’t about Zen at all.  It was a study of horses!  So without further ado…

1. Zen is not about eliminating thoughts but illuminating them. – Gerald May

Riding is not about eliminating thoughts but illuminating them.  We should not seek to destroy the horse’s spirit and instincts, but teach them to use those gifts for mutual enjoyment.

2. Zen is not some kind of excitement but concentration on our usual everyday routine. – Shanryu Suzuki

Riding is not some kind of excitement but concentration on our usual everyday routine.  This sets amazing riders apart from average riders.  Concentrating on doing the simple everyday things exceptionally makes winning an everyday possibility.

3. The ultimate standpoint of Zen is that…the peace we are seeking so eagerly has been there all the time. – D.T. Suzuki

The ultimate standpoint of riding is that…the peace we are seeking so eagerly has been there all the time.  Quit fidgeting and fixing and messing and just ride.  You cannot create peace with activity.

4. The beauty of Zen is found in simplicity and tranquility, in a sense of the all – embracing harmony of things. – Thich Thien-An

The beauty of horses is found in simplicity and tranquility, in a sense of the all – embracing the harmony of things.  If you ask any horse person where they find calm in the hubbub of their hectic life, many will say, “in the barn, when the horses are tucked in and munching on their hay.”  In that humble, tranquil setting life is as it should be.

5. The whole point of Zen is to suspend the rules we have superimposed on things and to see the world as it is. – Alan Watts

The whole point of time with horses is to suspend the rules we have superimposed on things and to see the world as it is.  They show us how the world should be, not what it is.  They are the ideal.  Forgiving, fair, centered.

6. Before enlightenment, I chopped wood and carried water.  After enlightenment, I chopped wood and carried water. – Zen Buddhism

So this one can be read as is.  Whether you’re at the beginning of your equestrian pursuits or a pro, you’re going to do a lot of stall cleaning and carrying water or posting trot with no stirrups.

7. Zen: If you try to aim for it, you are turning away from it. – Anonymous

Horses, if you are trying to catch them, they will turn tail and walk away.  Okay, maybe that’s not what they meant.  You’ve heard the saying about sand slipping through your fingers if you try and hold it too tight.  With horses you have to be a bit fluid.  Set goals.  Make plans, but don’t hold to them to tightly or you’ll lose them completely.

8. Zen is not thinking about God while peeling potatoes.  Zen is just about peeling the potatoes. – Modern Saying

Riding is not thinking about riding.  Riding is just riding.  If you get too caught up in the theory and thinking you can paralyze your ability to react to the moment.

9. The only Zen you can find on the tops of mountains is the Zen you bring up there. – Robert M. Pirsig

The only success you’ll find in riding is the success you earn by doing it correctly every day.

10. There is no need to have a deep understanding of Zen. – Shunryu Suzuki

I’ll admit it.  I didn’t get this at first.  I’m an academic.  I want to understand everything, but then I realized that some things are beyond understanding.  Take for example the idea of infinity.  We know what it is but we have very little understanding of it.  You don’t have to know everything about horses to enjoy all they have to offer.

There you have it.  A Fresh Equine Perspective on The Ten Thoughts on Zen.  I can make anything about horses, just ask my husband.

“10 Thoughts on Zen” originally appeared at Mind Fuel Daily.com.

“10 Thoughts on Zen.” Mind Fuel Daily. 1 Nov. 2013 http://www.mindfueldaily.com/. 

Dance Baby!

“He who would learn to fly one day must first learn to stand and walk and run and climb and dance; One cannot fly into flying.”

-          Friedrich Nietzsche

Fresh Perspective Farm just grew a bit.  Actually, we more than doubled our size in one fell swoop!  We weren’t planning on putting out a large chunk of change for the land on our northern border, but it was suddenly up for sale and we simply couldn’t resist.  The acquisition means more pasture, insulation from neighbors, and a whole lot of work.  There is old fence to be ripped out and new fence to be built.  It puts all our other projects and dreams on the backburner, but there is no complaining.  We are very, very blessed to be able to expand.

A lack of space might be a farm owner’s biggest fear.  When you have to limit your dreams to the square acreage you are sitting on, it can be difficult to see future dreams become reality.  Now we have the space to dream a bit. 

Planning comes next.  How can we best utilize this space to achieve our dreams?  What must we bite off now?  What can we chew on later?  For dreams to come true, plans have to be implemented step-by-step.

Seems like I’m doing a lot of foundation laying right now.  We’re working on building fence and Nutmeg and I are working on building muscle.  Like a water drip that slowly builds a stalagmite, each post we pound and each transition I ride slowly carries us toward our ultimate goals.  It’s difficult to see an efficient, safe and beautiful horse farm when you look at the wild thicket we are starting with.  Just as it’s hard to imagine Nutmeg successfully competing in the upper levels when we’re spending the winter doing simple walk-trot-walk-halt-walk transitions.  Before you can dance, you have to sweat a lot learning to walk and run.

This is the Month of Thankfulness and while I’d like to say I’m thankful each and every day, I don’t always express it well.  So, thank you for reading.  Thank you to each person who has helped us along our path.  Building the barn and house and now expanding has been such an overwhelming undertaking.  We couldn’t even stand when we started.  Now we are so close to flying.  The same goes to all of you that have supported my equestrian pursuits over the years.  We’ve come a long way from a pony on the back porch with an upside down saddle to where we are now.  Flying is so close, but our dance steps still need some work.  Thank you for the daily Fresh Perspectives that keep us growing.  Thank you for showing us the steps. 

 

Finding Our Carrying Power

It was a truly enlightening and enjoyable weekend.  The volunteers that worked so hard to put on the 2013 edition of the Heritage Park Horse Trials out did themselves again this year.  The event ran like clockwork and I heard very few complaints.

Personally we had a lovely weekend.  Nothing we did was outstanding, but we were consistently better in all three phases.  It may not be showing up in our score or placing yet, but I can feel our hard work paying off and the discerning observer can see the subtle changes.

I never thought I’d say it, but dressage might have been the highlight of the weekend.  It wasn’t an earth shattering test and honestly after our first canter trot transition it all fell to pieces, but for the first time I had a ridable canter.  I didn’t feel like I was on an unbalanced runaway freight train.  I was riding a bendable fairly balanced horse!  It was a huge mental victory for us.

We are still a little slow across country, but we’re getting close to the pace and fitness we need.  I didn’t ride Nutmeg in as uphill of balance as I should have, but we got around safely.  Actually, apart from a hairy near stop looking into the backwards trakenher, Nutmeg galloped around like a pro.  She wasn’t super bold into the water, but it was a heck of a lot better than then skidding plop we made last year.  She pulled up with less sweat than many of the lower level horses and her breathing returned to normal quickly.

 

We put in our first double clear show jumping round.  Another big victory!  We tapped the first fence significantly when I pushed for long, but got a chip.  The rails amazingly stayed up and it served as a great wakeup call that helped us put it together for the rest of the course.  I couldn’t be more pleased with Nutmeg’s effort over the weekend.

That being said, it was a challenging weekend for me mentally.  My husband and super groom let slip that some people are expecting us to keep climbing the ladder.  I feel like we’re struggling to just safely compete at our current level.  I ticked off the numerous reasons we can’t even consider moving up - ever.  I don’t know if he voiced those concerns to others or if life just has a way of telling you what you need to hear but the next day I was handed our road map.

Right now, we are missing our carrying power.  However, we are on the road to finding it.  Like playing Sorry, we just have to keep drawing cards and moving spaces.  Sometimes we will move forward.  Sometimes we have to choose to move backward in order to put ourselves in a better position for future forward movement.  We are going to spend the winter doing transition.  Forward, back, forward, back.  Each transition will help build the muscles which will allow us to lift upward.  Upward is where we are headed one twenty to thirty minute night time ride at a time.

I really struggle with wanting to do it all, but realizing the life I’ve chosen won’t let me.   This weekend I was reminded that I can excel at what I choose to do.  So, from the weekend my Fresh Perspective is to find a finer focus.  We can accomplish more in thirty minutes of concentrated practice then in a hour of unstructured recreating.   When you don’t have much time, you have to make every second count. 

 

100 Reasons We Play the Game

“This is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill, fifteen percent concentrated power of will.  Five percent pleasure.  Fifty percent pain and a hundred percent reason to remember the name.”
                                                                                                                 - Fort Minor
                                                                     

Eventing is hard work.  A rider will spend weeks if not months of their life practicing the basics and honing their skills.  Even more time is spent maintaining the horse’s welfare through grooming, feeding, mucking etc.  There is time spent on tack.  Time spent on the facility and other equipment.  Eventers are invested in their passion.

Yet no matter how much time and money is sunk into the pursuit, lady luck has her say.  There are too many variables for anything to ever be a given.  A horse can go lame, slip in the stabling, or just have a bad day.  You can forget a movement, skip a fence, even stay up to late cleaning tack.

The wind might blow.  The skies may open up and pour or even snow, but Eventers ride on.  The post office has nothing on what Eventers will endure.  What keeps us going?

It isn’t something that can be put into words.  The partnership, the bond, the accomplishment, the progress, the adrenalin, the comradery, the peace, the fun, the heartbreak, the hope, the knowledge that you can always do it a little bit better but knowing what you did today is enough.  There are a hundred reasons we play this game.

We’re headed to our final event of the season this weekend.  It’s going to be cold.  It’s been hard to ride in the wet, chili, dark rain of the past couple of weeks.  Regardless, the trailer is packed, the tack is cleaned (well it will be before Saturday morning), and Nutmeg and I are eagerly awaiting our Friday departure.  We’d love to see you there.  They always need volunteers!

 

 

All Kinds of Kinds

Imagine a world where we are judged only for our actions, not for our affiliations.  Better yet, imagine a world without affiliations or stereotypes.   A world that requires time spent for the opinions gained.  It isn’t a world for the lazy.

I am so frustrated with our country, my friends, my neighbors, my family, and even myself.  In an effort to speed along to our pleasures, we have given up the art of debate, replacing it with name calling and finger pointing.  We have become so ensconced in fitting into the little boxes we have created; we are no longer able to see from someone else’s shoes.

What happened to our statesmen?  Defined as “a usually wise, skilled and respected government leader, one versed in the principles or art of government, one actively engaged in conducting the business of a government or in shaping its policies.”  We are all called to be statesmen because we live in a democracy, but somewhere along the line it became too difficult.  It is so much easier to name ourselves as Democrat or Republican, Liberal or Conservative and then let that party tell us what we believe.  Trouble is, sometimes we don’t quite agree with some overarching belief, but we’ve been labeled and there is no room for gray in a black and white barcode.

And we really like our barcodes and labels.  A Thoroughbred is fast and hot.  A Warmblood is slow and dumb.  A Quarter Horse is good for moving cows, but a bit thick.  An Arab is flighty.  Ponies are ornery.  Not a horse person?  Pitbulls are aggressive.  Cats are aloof.  Family people drive minivans.  Motorcycle riders like leather and my Facebook status can tell you anything you need to know about me.

Why are we so stuck on our labels?  When something challenges one of our self-given labels we attack and defend as if our vary identity was at stake.  In a way it is.  We no longer take the time to cultivate who we truly are and what we truly believe.  Instead we go grocery shopping… “Oh, I like spaghetti, bananas, freedom of choice, big government that can protect me, low taxes…”  But even that takes time and thought, so “Just give me the value bundle.”  I might not like everything that’s included, but who cares, you’re bound to get some bad with the good, right?

If you walk up to someone on the street and ask them what they think of stereotypes, they will probably tell you they are horrible.  But if you include them in a stereotype that they find favorable, they probably wouldn’t even consider it a stereotype, just an affiliation they are proud to promote.  That said, personally, I’d much rather have dinner with you, then give you the opportunity to judge me by a sign in my front yard.

That’s the heart of the matter.  We love to judge.  We love to judge others and we love to judge ourselves against others.  I realize this entire rant is judgmental.  I just ask that you seek a Fresh Perspective, a deeper perspective.  We’ve been taught not to judge a book by the cover, but we’re all too happy to let others judge us by our “Likes”, our statuses, our hash tags, and our affiliations.  Because when we feel like we have been judged unfairly, we can retort with, “They were stereotyping me.”  However, it is only unfair, if it’s untrue.  Are you more than your label?  Can you stand without your barcode backing you up?

Miranda Lambert has a beautiful song out called All Kinds of Kinds.  The chorus claims, “Ever since the beginning, to keep the world spinning, it takes all kinds of kinds.”  It’s just as true today as it was the day this country was founded.  None of us have all the answers.  Brainstorming works best with a diverse and unhampered group.  The answers are there, we just have to peel off all our labels to find them.

 

Let's all Say, "Olé!"

I have a pretty incredible job.  I get to travel all around a thirteen county area meeting neat folks and getting unique perspectives on a wide variety of events.  It’s humbling, fascinating and inspiring on an almost weekly basis.  Last week was a fine example.

I traveled to a school located in a town of 465.  They have less than a person per acre in town, but they host a big festival each fall.  This year, thanks to a grant, they were able to bring world renowned, Flamenco Guitarist, Ronald Radford to their school for a student presentation. 

Normally I get to the event well before it begins and have to leave about the time things get underway, but this time, I got to stay.  In fact, I had no option.  I was set-up in the gym where the assembly was taking place and to leave would have been downright rude. 

I should mention that on this particularly day, I was struggling.  It was an early morning appointment, requiring me to get to work a bit early.  The equipment hadn’t been put away properly.  The company car was left on empty.  The phone was being extremely combative.  The list just kept growing and here I was stuck in a school assembly.  I’m really glad I was.  It was time for a Fresh Perspective.

Ronald Radford grew up in Oklahoma.  He went through several instruments before settling on the six string guitar.  With each instrument, the more he practiced, the better he got.  Finally he came to the revelation that, “You get good at what you practice.”  Ground breaking, I know.

He pursued his passion to New York and then across the ocean to Spain.  He spent time amongst the gypsies and learned their folk music.  While he was at it, he also learned their philosophy on life.  For them, life’s main goal is to find out what you are good at and then find a way to make a living doing it.  What a lovely outlook.  I never knew I had a gypsy soul.

The more Mr. Radford spoke and the more he played, the more I was drawn into his story.  Then he taught the students about “Olé,” the Spanish cheering word.  Olé doesn’t have much of a definition, so he came up with an acronym.  Olé: Optimistic Leadership Energy!  Each word describes the Spanish Gypsy culture.  They are very positive thinking.  They don’t wait for others to step-in.  If they see a way they can help, they get to it.  Finally, they are just bursting with life.  Now I have two reasons for visiting Andalusia.  The first, of course, being the horses.

I don’t know how much of the presentation the students took to heart.  The young ones certainly enjoyed clapping along with the music.  I found it to be refreshing and a great reminder.  First, practice what you want to get good at, whether it’s riding your horse or being an optimistic energetic leader in your field.  Then, find something you are good at and enjoy doing, and make it your life’s work and passion.  If you are pursuing your passion daily, it’s a lot easier to find that energy and optimism each and every day.

The best part is, it doesn’t matter who you are, how old you are, or what you are doing, if you can adopt the Olé attitude you are going to be better off.  Taking out the trash?  Do it well and do it happily.  That piddily job at work no one wants to do?  Take the initiative, show leadership.  That canter depart that eludes you?  Practice, practice, practice.  The next time I face a day where my energy is lacking or my enthusiasm is waning, I’m going to find that Gypsy Fresh Perspective.  Olé! Olé!  Olé!

Learning to Learn

“If we let ourselves, we shall always be waiting for some distraction or other to end before we can really get down to our work.  The only people who achieve much are those who want knowledge so badly that they seek it while the conditions are still unfavorable.  Favorable conditions never come.”

-          C.S.Lewis

We weren’t “ready” for Kentucky.  Our dressage was sketchy.  Our fitness was lacking.  We missed a week and a half of preparation due to a lost shoe, but we went anyway.  We survived and we came out better for the experience.

We had a worry free trip to Kentucky. I was very lucky that my mom could drop everything and make the trip with me.  Tackling an eight and a half hour drive by myself is not on my bucket list.  Although she has always said she does not enjoy watching me gallop down to solid fences that are above my belly button, she agreed to keep me company and keep me safe.

Our dressage was not as horrid as it could have been.  Nutmeg is still protesting when I ask her to carry herself in the canter, but we made our fifteen meter circles without leaping about or jumping out of the arena.  I was the first horse in the ring, which probably helped our score a bit, but it got me in a bit of a tizzy and I lost my bungee arms.  Our relaxation and suppleness suffered.  We’ll do better next time.  I’m still learning to find my center before heading down center line.

I am bursting with pride over Nutmeg’s cross country trip.  We had a lot of time penalties.  Almost a refusals worth, but I knew we weren’t fit and it was terribly hot.  I just didn’t have the horse to make time.  The way she jumped though still has me grinning.  She is learning!  We had one looong distance at the second fence, a very rampy pheasant feeder.  Other than that, she really jumped well.  I was a tad worried about a drop to a small half coop, since we are still landing in a bit of a heap.  She hopped down and on a loose rein cantered out over the coop like a pro.  The next fence was a galloping steeplechase brush fence.  She pinned it with her ears, picked up the pace and galloped over it beautifully.  The corner was a no brainer.  For the log before the water that everyone had been tripping over, she came back to me happily and bounded over it in great form.  The Jolly Green Giant that I made the mistake of walking right up to on the course walk (it was up to the bottom of my bra and wider than I can spread my arms, somehow it was legally a training fence) jumped great.  I knew it would if I didn’t pick at her, but dang it was big!  Next thing was the question that had me most concerned.  Just like at Catalpa, it was a two stride half coffin, except this time the ditch was big enough I didn’t think we could snake across it safely if things went poorly.  Well, Miss Nutmeg is learning to learn.  She practically backed herself up coming to the rails, popped over them smoothly, two nice strides and over the ditch.  No big deal.  Except it was.  She’s learning and that is so exciting! 
The only other real question for us was the trakehner.  In its defense, it’s probably the friendliest trakehner I’ve ever seen.  I knew if I could just slowly my fear, Nutmeg wouldn’t even know there was a ditch underneath the log.  I felt a little silly, but I found a tree I could stare it during my course walk.  I turned the corner, lifted my eyes to the tree tops, put my leg on and prayed.  She didn’t bat an eye.  I only need to jump that jump about fifty more times before I’ll learn to trust the big red head.

After that it was all downhill, but I still had to nurse her home.  Pulling up after the finish line I realized just how truly hot she was.  Shame on my for not having her fitter, but I’m not sure what more I could have done.  I spent a long time cooling her down thoroughly.  I’ve never had a horse that wasn’t naturally fit or hadn’t been super fit and one point in its past.  Lesson learned.  With Nutmeg, I’m going to have to do some honest to goodness conditioning.  Bring on the hills!

I pampered Nuthead the best I could between Saturday afternoon and show jumping Sunday.  We did lots of grazing and lots of chilling back at the stall.  I knew when I got on Sunday that I had a very tired horse.  But she was loose and sound and I felt we could jump safely.  She has come so far.  In the past when she got tired, she became stiff and belligerent.  Although we didn’t have a beautiful round, she stayed compliant.  I did not ride consistently.  The two rails were my fault.  I dropped my contact at the base of the fence.  I spent quite some time studying the video from show jumping.  Unfortunately, my rails were on the far side of the arena, but watching the video frame by frame was quite interesting.  Certainly a good learning tool.

The most disturbing part of the weekend occurred while watching stadium.  A young girl came up to her (presumably) grandma and was quite upset.  Apparently she thought she was too fast on cross country so she circled several times.  She ended up with time faults that knocked her from second to fourteenth.  Her mom thought she should scratch and not even ride stadium because there would be no point.  How awful!  I can’t imagine saying that to anyone, let alone my child.  It goes against everything this sport, everything life is about.  We’re here to learn.  Sometimes we learn by winning.  Sometimes we learn by making costly mistakes.  Usually we learn better from the mistakes that cost us the most.  The whole thing really appalled me.  Thankfully her grandmother was very supportive.  I truly hope that she was able to learn from the experience, not just about timing, but about continuing on when outside influences try to impact your attitude.  I have no idea how her weekend ended, but in my head, she put in a fabulous round and jumped back into the ribbons.

We didn’t.  I have no idea how we placed, but with twenty-four in our class, I’m quite certain it was well out of the ribbons.  But it doesn’t matter.  We still had a really great weekend.  It wasn’t flashy.  It wasn’t a weekend you could brag to your co-workers about.  But we learned so much and we learned it without paying painful prices.  I was worried about the weekend.  I knew we were untested in some areas.  I knew we weren’t ready to go out and win, but sometimes you have to go anyway.  Now we’ve learned what to work on.

“Tell me and I forget, teach me and I may remember, involve me and I learn.” – Benjamin Franklin

It’s a Fresh Perspective on riding and a hard one to adopt when the price is so high, but if you can give your horse the freedom to learn with you, you’ll come out the other side in a much better position.  It’s the “5^th leg” training folks are always talking about.  Force your horse and you will always have to force him.  Teach your horse and most of the time, he’ll do what’s taught.  Discover with your horse, make mistakes, learn from them together, and he’ll save your butt when you need him too. 

Two more things I learned over the weekend: I am not above forgetting the memory card for my helmet cam  :(  and I learned to properly operate my Cross Country App, which measures the course, figures my minute markers and take pictures!  Enjoy the results below.

 

 

 

 

Doesn't look it, but this one was Big.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Jolly Green Giant.  True to its name.

 

 

 

I promise there is a ditch under that log.

 

 

 

 

 

Final fence.  Oddly enough, I heard the loud speaker say I was finished about seven strides out.
Good motivation to make sure you actually make it over the final fence.