Happy, Happy, Happy

“Most folks are as happy as they make up their minds to be.” – Abraham Lincoln

It’s all about perception, but having really awesome people, a really awesome horse and fantastic weather sure does help.

We’re back and recovered from the first event of the season and boy did it set the standard.  I always love going to Longview Horse Park.  I spent many hours there as a child volunteering, getting ticks, even playing in the water jump.  I have lots of fond memories and a few nightmares from a few problematic jumps.  The Longview Horse Park and I have history and for better or worse, I smile every time I round the corner and see the entry way.

This year I was grinning ear to ear.  It was obvious from the moment I pulled off the interstate that they were excited to have us.  There were signs pointing the way all over the park.  When I pulled in, I was greeted, showed where to park, told where I could ride and informed that the ticks were extra prevalent this year.  (Yes, I’ve been plucking them off the horses twice daily, thanks for the tip).  The icing on the cake though, each of the Port-A-Pots had been stalked with sunscreen, hand sanitizer and bug spray.  Such hospitality!

Oh yeah, that's a Port-a-Pot Pic

I usually don’t ride on Friday evening on account of having plenty of other items to attend to, but word around the barn was if I hurried, I could get a ride in with Coach before she turned into a pumpkin.  So after picking up my number and my year’s supply of fly spray (another reason I love coming to Longview – excellent goodies), Nutmeg and I headed down to the dressage warm-up to stretch our legs.

We’ve been working so hard on being soft and supple from our nose to our tail.  We managed to achieve those goals out on the grass, but when we moved from the grass into the sand and started cantering, we lost our supple and replaced it with rather stiff bucking springs.  I guess it’s a good thing we tackled that Friday instead of early, early Saturday morning.

I walked the cross country course.  It seemed straight forward with two major exceptions.  The two related distances were set on a very non-standard stride.  I hoped my striding was just off and marked them on the list to inquire about.

At this point, I have to admit I’m really enjoying my new work schedule.  Getting home at 3:30 has given me the opportunity to do things like clean tack and pack my trailer ahead of time.  It was really strange to be ahead of the game on Friday evening.  So relaxing!

All ready and the sun hasn't even set yet!

We did our official course walk and it turns out I wasn’t crazy.  The distances were, well, different.  From the roll-top to the ditch was a very, very (for Nutmeg very, very, very) bouncy four strides.  The up bank to the roll-top was a perfect one and a half strides.  Ick.  Plan of attack?  We’re going to be killing time anyway, let’s trot into the questions.  Hopefully problem solved.  I went to bed happy.

I spent a long time on our Dressage warm-up.  We did lots of straightening and suppeling exercises and I felt pretty happy with how things felt.  Then we trotted into the ring with our head and tail up.  So we started over as we took our lap around the ring.  That’s not much time to put things back together, but it happened quicker than it would have in the past.  We were still resistant as we headed down centerline, but we made progress throughout the test.  I felt like we were better balanced on the whole and we made progress.  Our score didn’t really reflect that, but we did break 40 for the first time, so I’ll take that as a sign that we are headed in the right direction, just a little more slowly than I would like.

Our cross country warm-up was nothing short of perfect.  I was riding a soft happy horse that was even adjustable to the base of the jumps.  I headed to the start box glowing.  We lost a bit of our ridability around the course.  Nutmeg was really not thrilled with the slow canter plan.  I guess she is getting used to the faster speeds at Training finally.  The trot in plan was a little confusing for her, but she listened and we got the job done.  It wasn’t pretty to the ditch, but the bank and roll top actually rode quite well.  She is so relaxing to ride cross country.  It really is a pleasurable stroll around the park.  Unfortunately we strolled a little too quickly and I had to make a circle to kill a little time and we still came in about 20 seconds under optimum.  Regardless, I was pleased with our trip around and pleased with the level of fitness she seems to have maintained.  That was my main concern coming out of a hard winter.  We still need to build some fitness before we can make time at Training, but she recovered better than I expected after cross country.

With the pony pampered and tucked away, I was able to sneak away and have an “almost Mother’s Day” meal with my parents.  Meanwhile a tornado formed over my work place.  Thank fully it was little and no one was hurt.  I picked a good weekend to be out of town!

Sunday’s stadium course seemed to ride very well.  Nutmeg had just the right amount of energy.  We had a fine warm-up, but lost our concentration a bit when we went in the ring.  Like Dressage, I was able to get her back together much more quickly, so I’m pleased.  I didn’t ride the course well.  I let Nutmeg get long and flat a few times and that cost us our typical two rails.  Eventually I will learn that lesson.

Our chances of being in the ribbons were miniscule, but ever the optimist, I stood around and watched the rest of our division go.  No real problems other than one poor lost soul.  I decided we had waited long enough and walked Nutmeg back to the barn.  Not a second after I had started untacking they announced the ribbons and we got one.  My barn buddies valiantly vaulted me back into the saddle so we could go join the victory gallop, but alas, we weren’t quite fast enough.  Oh well, we still got a pretty ribbon to add to the collection.

It was a marvelous weekend.  It could have been miserable.  We could have complained about the ticks, pouted about the dressage score, worried about the cross country, and gotten frustrated over the rails, but that wouldn’t help anything.  When I go to a horse show, I’m there to enjoy the weekend, my friends and my horse.  Once you make up your mind, don’t let something trivial unmake it.  If you struggle with unhappy horse shows, try this Fresh Perspective: Be Happy.  It really is your choice.

I will call her Squishy

“And she will be mine and she will be my Squishy Squishy…”

Severe Thunderstorms were blowing across the Missouri/Kansas border, but Nutmeg and I had a scheduled dressage lesson and by golly, we were going to get our monies worth.

We’ve made some really big break throughs over the winter considering how little we were actually able to ride.  Nutmeg has gone from a stiff board, pulling herself and me with her around the arena with very little influence accepted from me, to a much more manageable animal.  We started with getting her jaw unlocked and explaining that you can rotate your head on the end of your neck.  Next we got our half halts working a bit better and focused on allowing her back to come up in downward transitions.  Then it was time to unlock the shoulders and make them a bit more mobile.  I suddenly had a much more rideable horse and it was awesome.  Then Spring hit.

I don’t know what it is about spring, but it was like the last three months of breaks throughs were blown away on the very healthy continuous breeze.  We needed a lesson, if only to help me regain my sanity.  So of course, the sane thing to do was to haul an hour and take a lesson during a thunderstorm with straight line winds and small hail.

I’ll profess that I didn’t hear a lot of that lesson, but sometimes it isn’t about hearing the instructor.  After every lesson, we take the instruction and put it into practice; I just had to do it a bit quicker than normal.  It was nice to be able to puzzle through things with the confidence that if I really started messing up someone was watching and would stop me.  It made for a very different atmosphere.

I’m happy to report that even with all the distractions Mother Nature was creating, we were able to add yet another building block.  It’s funny.  I’ve been familiar with the dressage training for years and years, but now I feel like I am actually learning how to create each step on the scale.  Each lesson lays another brick by dealing with a different hole in our pyramid.

In this particular lesson, we spent the first twenty minutes or so suppling Nutmeg behind the loins.  We worked in leg yield head to the wall, then transitioned that to haunches-in.  I’m still struggling mentally with the concept of diagonal aids, but as always, I think it’s because I’m trying to over-do and over-think.  When mom’s confused, Nutmeg’s really at a loss, but it’s coming.  We actually had several good steps.  It’s just going to take some time.

Then we trotted.  Every single second we spent crawling around the arena step-by-step was worth it when we picked up the trot.  In a word, it was “squishy.”  Malleable, has never been a word I would use to describe Nutmeg but suddenly I was riding a pile of Jell-O.  Just the right amount of surface tension to create bouncy, but completely pliable in every direction.  I think my grin probably created stretch lines on the back of my scalp.

The bar has been raised yet again and I have a step-by-step plan on how to reach it.  This is such an exciting adventure.  Nutmeg is now my squishy and has earned herself a new nick-name, the FlufferNutter.  I may be making shirts.  I know it’s silly, but sometimes that’s okay.  So this Fresh Perspective comes from the FlufferNutter, “Sometimes you have to ride through the Thunder in order to float in the clouds.”

On Top of the World

Rarely am I at a complete loss for words.  I make my living off of word craft, but Saturday’s cross country schooling has left my speechless, in a very, very good way.  Unfortunately, like so many others, when I’m left speechless, I simply ramble on, so prepare yourself.

Saturday was interesting.  We had absolutely perfect weather.  Rains earlier in the week made the footing superb.  Nutmeg and I were accompanied by my husband piloting Mr. Admiral Nelson around for a nice hack.  It is spring, so of course Nutmeg is in heat.  Thankfully once we get to work, she seems to forget she possesses mare parts.  We were also joined by my long time coach that we only seem to see at shows these days.  We made special arrangements just to school with her and I’m so glad.  We needed boots on the ground confidence.

I am so blessed with Nutmeg.  She doesn’t need to see every fence.  She is almost stupidly uncaring about life in general and that means we need to be a little extra careful when the jumps ask quick questions and challenge our adjustability.  So Saturday, we took some time to school “the questions.”

After being completely unimpressed by a training cabin, we had a marvelous ride down the hill and over a rampy drop.  We schooled the novice and training ditches without batting an eye.  Then we got a little greedy and tried the prelim question of a ditch, two strides up a bank, one stride over a skinny chevron.  That was unfair of me.  Deep down I knew she wasn’t ready, but I couldn’t help giving into the “we will try it and see” attitude.  Usually you can break a puzzle down into manageable pieces, but we just couldn’t get the job done.  It was a difficult question requiring a great deal of power from the hind end, not our strong suit yet.  The good news is, now we have something to work toward and a little unfinished business.

Next we moved onto the corner.  Lesson number two to be learned: just because you’ve done it before, don’t take it for granted.  Since we’d just been having run out difficulties at the skinny chevron, I rode a little farther in from the point of the corner than I usually would.  We banked the dang thing.  Most bizarre feeling ever.  It probably didn’t help that we had just been schooling a bank and this particular corner was filled in with dirt and grass.  I truly think she just mis-read the question.  We tried again and she did much better although she pulled a “classic Irish” move and pushed off the bank with her hind legs.  Again, a bit of an interesting feeling as we suddenly had after burners mid-air.  Third time was the charm.  I have to say, as bad as it looked, I couldn’t help but be so pleased with Nutmeg.  It wasn’t that long ago that she was all uncoordinated legs and we would have had a terrible accident.  She really is learning a lot about using her body and getting us out of sticky situations.  She may grow a fifth leg yet.

We schooled the training bank with no problems.  She had a little hesitation at the drop on the prelim bank and rolled the log a bit.  I didn’t realize that bit and was going to school it once more to confirm.  Thankfully my boots on the ground waved me off and we avoided potential trouble.

There it sits looking all innocent, but in real life, believe me, it's huge!

Next, it was time to face down the trakehner.  This thing is a beast.  I have an unnatural fear of it.  Just up the tree line sits a jump at which I have bad history.  Maybe I’m afraid that history will trickle down hill.  Anyway, this was the question I most wanted to tackle.  Nutmeg has never refused a trakehner, but we’ve had some very sticky rides.  It was time to beat down the beast and lay new hoof prints for future attempts.  Not much can make me shake in my boots, but I’ll freely admit it took every bit of mental fortitude to gallop at that sucker.  The first time I didn’t have quite enough mental fortitude and Nutmeg knew it.  But we didn’t die.  We didn’t slide into the hole never to emerge again.  We just stopped and then we tried again.  We did it!  Boy did she over jump, but she went and it wasn’t that bad.  I peeked on the way over though, shame on me, and so we did it again.  Pure perfection!  I’m not joking.  That was THE FEELING.  I’ve jumped so many things I think I’ve grown laissez-faire, but that was amazing.  I just cannot put it into words.  I wanted so badly to quit right then and there.  To show Nutmeg what an amazing girl she is and we almost did, but we had one more question we needed to put to bed.

Water has never been an issue, thankfully, but dropping into water tends to catch Miss Nutmeg off guard.  I’m glad we schooled the log into the water because it did catch us off guard the first time.  The second time, we landed quite flat footed creating an awkward few strides.  The third time was aces.  We did a downhill log before presenting to the water.  The jump itself may not have rivalled our effort over the trakehner, but the balance and lightness that I felt on the way down the hill to the water was awe-inspiring.  This is Nutmeg, the gangly tank that used to drag me around.  Now we are cantering and jumping downhill in balance and self-carriage.  I wanted to shout from the roof tops!

When we do thing often enough, we tend to become complacent and take them forgranted.  Saturday was such a wonderful reminder on many levels.  This is too dangerous of a sport to take anything forgranted.  We have to ride every step.  On the other hand, what these horses give to us, what our partnerships produce, is so incredible.  It has been a long while since riding has checked my balance, had me quaking in my boots and yet left me feeling like I was on top of the world.  We may not have been able to answer that one little prelim question, but I now know, that with a little more work, we can do it.  I’ve always questioned my confidence to make that leap, but with this horse and can now see the possibility.  Thank you to my support crew and to that magnificent red mare for showing me a Fresh Confident Perspective.  Next stop, THE MOON!

What If?

I recently read an interesting article about a sock.  A missing sock.  The sock the dryer ate was credited with a start up company in Missouri called, What if…?  It’s a fascinating read.  If you can find a copy of /dᾱym/ Magazine read “It all started with a sock,” by Nichole L. Ballard.  Ironically, I read the article the same day a co-worker disappeared off the face of the earth.  Talk about a “What If” scenario.

“What If?” is such a simple question, but it holds so much power.  What if I could change the rules?  What if I just decided not to play by the rules?  What if I was completely unencumbered?  The possibilities will make your head swim.

Have you ever considered just jumping in your car and driving off into the sunset?  How about quitting your nice secure job in favor of starting your own business?  “What If” can be so empowering and lead to some outcomes that would have been unimaginable, if someone had never dreamed “What If?”

On the other hand, what if everything we take forgranted was suddenly taken?  What if our safe little worlds were suddenly invaded, castrated, and vomited up on the floor?  What if isn’t always a freeing thought.

Oddly enough, one person’s “What If” is often another person’s “Worse Nightmare.”  What if I just jumped in my car and started to drive?  My husband, dog, horses, family and co-workers would be left behind with no closure and I’d like to think, a great loss.  We all know the consequences left behind by drivers who decided the rules didn’t apply to them and injured or killed innocent bystanders.

It’s an interesting brain exercise.  Can we imagine a world where anything is possible, without damaging the world of someone else?  It’s the Butterfly Effect on a mental scale.  By freeing ourselves to dream are we dashing the dreams of someone else?

I watched Spider Man for the first time this weekend.  (I know. Where have I been?)  Peter Park comes to face-to-face with this conundrum.  There is nothing that isn’t our problem.  We live in a vastly interconnected world.  Our words reach across continents in seconds.  We can’t take them back.  The decisions and policies that we enact not only affect us and future generations, but they change the opinion every country has about us.

What if, What if, What If?  It’s the epitome of a Fresh Perspective.  We cannot know the future.  We can theorize about the past.  We are all bound to one another.  What we do does last.  Dream about the future.  Learn from the past.  Remember your duty to others but never be afraid to ask, “What If?”  We can't actually control the future, but we can control how we react to it.

Incidentally, my co-worker was found safe and sound about 24 hours later.

Spring Chickens

When will it be Spring?  Really.  We had two days with decent weather.  Maybe three days where we stayed above freezing.  The horses are sick and tired of it and frankly, it’s getting a bit difficult to stay enthused about the coming season.

The key to everything is patience.  You get the chicken by hatching the egg, not by smashing it. 

I know, I know.  Spring is bound to get here eventually.  In the meantime, there are plenty of steps we can take to get ready.  When it’s too cold to ride, ride mentally.  YouTube can be an amazing tool.  Thanks to the internet we can virtually attend clinics and seminars with the world’s top riders.  Research is showing that mentally practicing exercises actually helps train the nerve pathways, allowing you to perform the action more readily when the time comes.  My horse may be fluffy, but my legs should be fine-tuned come Spring.  It isn’t the same as saddling up, but it’s better than sniveling in a cup of coco.

“Sticking feather up your butt does not make you a chicken.” – Chuck Palahniuk 

One drawback to watching all the great riders on YouTube is that we can get lulled into thinking it is easy.  It looks easy.  We’ve studied the mechanics.  We should be able to do it, right?  Not really.  As annoying as it is, we still need to take our time and work back into things.  Buying fancy clothes or tack and mentally practicing will not help you gallop out of the start box with a fit and ready horse.  There are some things that simply take time and effort.  Rushing through training may ruin your horse or get someone hurt.  Putting on the clothes and pretending just makes you look ridiculous.  Blood, sweat and tears, baby.  I’m really looking forward to the sweating part.

Why’d the chicken cross the road?  To prove to the armadillo that it can be done! 

Sometimes we just have to be stubborn.  This winter has given us all plenty of excuses.  It didn’t break 20˚.  The ground is covered in an inch of ice.  The ground is covered in eight inches of snow.  The wind is whipping across the hill at fifty miles an hour.  We can let the weather keep us from our goals or we can prove it can be done, no matter the obstacles.

Daylight savings time is coming soon.  Our next round of winter weather is due in tomorrow.  I’ve watched every YouTube video I can find and studied videos of my own rides.  I’m ready to hatch the egg and see what emerges.  Right now I’m afraid we just have feathers stuck to our butts.  Maybe by April we will emerge as Spring Chickens.

How Heavy?

I found this on Facebook:

“A psychologist walked around a room…As she raised a glass of water, everyone expected they’d be asked the ‘half empty or half full’ question.  Instead, with a smile on her face, she inquired, ‘How heavy is this glass of water?’  Answers were called out in a range from 8 oz. to 20 oz.  She replied, ‘The absolute weight doesn’t matter.  It depends on how long I hold it’.”

Now there is a Fresh Perspective.  The weight doesn’t matter, only how long you hold it.  For years and years and years I’ve been riding around the ring troubled by my “contact.”  It is to light, to heavy, to inconsistent.  My reins are too long, my wrists curled.  I’m pulling; my horse is heavy.  We’ve been working on the idea of letting go in our dressage lessons.  I have tried wrapping my head around the concept that the horse doesn’t respond to the aid, but to the release of the aid.  Now I’ve been doused with a cup of water and it all makes sense.  My horse is only heavy if I try to hold her up all the way around the arena. 

The psychologist went on to say, “If I hold it for a minute, it (the glass of water) is not a problem.  If I hold it for an hour, I’ll have an ache in my arm.  If I hold it for a day, my arm will feel numb and paralyzed.  In each case, the weight of the glass doesn’t change, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes.”  What an interesting way of looking at the aids we give our horses.  It isn’t the amount of pressure used for the aid, but the length the aid is applied that makes it heavy.  That is why even with a very severe bit, you can ride lightly.  With a simple soft snaffle, you can create a very heavy connection.

The Facebook lesson ends, “The stresses and worries in life are like that glass of water.  Think about them for a while and nothing happens.  Think about them a bit longer and they begin to hurt.  And if you think about them all day long, you will feel paralyzed – incapable of doing anything.  Remember to put the glass down.” 

Whether it is the dance we are striving for with our horses or the burdens we carry from our jobs, families, grudges, preconceived notions or life experiences, we have to learn to let them go.  Some things you have to pick back up, like working for a living, but a burden is always lighter after a break. 

We just got back from vacation.  As far as vacations go, it was fairly well a disaster, but you know what?  For that week, I didn’t think about my normal life at all.  I lived only in the moment and refused to even think about the burdens I left at home.  In spite of scheduling changes, sickness, and crummy weather I still came home recharged and ready to pick back up my responsibilities.

Happy New Year.  With this Fresh Perspective I’m resolving to practice letting go.  Whether I’m releasing my aids more quickly or spending some time each night not fretting over the days worries or planning for tomorrow, I hope to remember this lesson.  It isn’t the weight of the burden that makes it heavy.  Its heaviness is directly related only to how long you refuse to set it down.

Battling Post-Holiday Blues

Well, Christmas has come and gone.  There is so much anticipation, a whirlwind of activities and then poof, it is back to life as usual.  It reminds me of the show season.  I spend a month making lists, planning, practicing, and packing, then we spend a crazy weekend showing and back to work on Monday.  At least with Christmas everyone shares the excitement. 

I have found that the best way to counter the post-holiday/horseshow blues is to start anticipating the next adventure.  So instead of reflecting on what has been a truly wonderful year full of blessings in every shape and size, let’s look forward to the year to come.

The United Nations has deemed 2014 the “International Year of Family Farming & Crystallography.”  It is exciting that the local producer may finally be getting some credit for the tireless effort they put in every day of the year.  Crystallography studies how things are put together on a molecular level.  It’s a fascinating subject.  If you think a flying lead change is difficult, look around you.  The world is far, far more complicated than you would ever guess.

In the Sporting World, the Winter Olympics will be held in Russia from February 7^th to the 23^rd.  Rolex (the United States’ only 4 Star Event) takes place April 23^rd through the 27^th in Kentucky and the Alltech FEI World Equestrian Games will be held in Normandy, France, August 23^rd to September 7^th.

Technological advances are often mind boggling.  In 2014, expect to see a cure for baldness, breakthroughs in cancer treatment by either starving specific cancer cells or targeting them directly, and electricity generation using heat and light, possibly evening powering your phone without a charger.  Scientists are trying to be more ecofriendly and use nature to fight nature instead of introducing chemical pesticides.  Saving the rainforest?  They are working on that too.  Now with an environmental friendly process they can make fast growing softwood take on the properties so desired in hardwood.  Remember LaForge from Star Trek?  Allowing the blind to see using a computer may just go from science-fiction to reality in 2014.  Learn more here.

With all the events and advances, 2014 is sure to fly by, but the year will be what you make of it.  At Fresh Perspective Farm, we’re still building fence (well, any day the temperatures break the freezing mark).  There are so many projects to be undertaken.  Last year we somehow managed to find a healthy mix of progress and relaxation.  I hope we will find that balance again in the coming year.  The horses are still snuggled warm in the rugs, but dreams of the upcoming season are beginning to bud.  May you and your fuzzy friends enjoy a little down time as you look forward to the year to come.