Watch Someone Else Ride Your Horse
When I was a kid, I came to a crossroads pretty early between ballet or horses. I couldn’t do both, and while I liked to dance, horses clearly won. But once I was a sophomore in high school, musical theater became the driving force behind just about everything I did. That meant among other things, learning how to dance.
While I still avoided ballet (even though I shouldn’t have, which is a great parallel to those who don’t like dressage but should do it anyways), I managed to leap ahead in my Jazz dance classes for one reason: I was a great mimic. I could watch the teacher and the other more advanced students in the class, and make my body copy what the moves should look like. While my technique held me back whenever the dance called for something like a triple pirouette, I faked my way enough that I made it into the advanced level class with only a few years under my belt.
To this day, watching other people has been one of the main ways that I learn. I watch just about every show that the USEF network live streams, and will sometimes watch old shows still available in the background while I work. I love watching the softness and effectiveness of riders like Hunt Tosh, Liza Boyd, Victoria Colvin, or Nick Haness. I mean, I could go on. IFYKYK.
The main piece that isn’t such a 1-1 to the way I learned while watching someone dance is that there’s another living creature in the mix. For sure I can watch the greats, but when it comes down to it, I’m not watching them ride MY horse, and I can’t imagine what the horse under THEM might feel like. It’s 50% of the equation, probably even more.
So when it comes to Azul, I can think about John French’s quiet hands, or Sandy Ferrell’s iron leg, but I’m sitting on a green 5yo mare that sometimes has other thoughts about going forward or turning left. And I also still have all of those “feelings.” You know, the ones where you want your horse to like you and you want to do right by them and you feel like any harsh word or use of the stick is being a “bad mean rider” and there’s a piece of you that’s always thinking, “but what if she’s hurting?”
(Hopefully I am not the only person who has all of those “feelings” in the saddle.)
That’s why it’s doubly important for me to watch someone else who I respect as a rider on my own horse. For a few months, I hadn’t had that experience, and hadn’t even really considered it as top of my To Do list for my program. But after moving to another barn, one with night turnout for Azul, and one that so far she seems to really love, it was clear that I had to very quickly put it on the #1 priority list…
In my new place, there is no fence for the ring. It’s a gorgeous and big ring, but it’s at the bottom of a hill far away from the barn in a field. This means I can’t use any fence to help me turn or keep Azul straight. It also made Azul a bit bolder in her “maybe I’ll just stop turning left” behavior. Very quickly after only 2 rides, she started trying to prop and even spin to get back to a place in the ring she would rather be - namely closer to the outside of it.
I knew that I needed to nip that behavior in the bud ASAP. But I literally couldn’t visualize what it should look like to correct it - I couldn’t feel it in my body, and I couldn’t see myself being effective in putting an end to it without it escalating into something worse. I knew enough about mindset and visualization training to know that if I kept imagining the worst case, I was only giving power to it coming true.
So I texted Jill Wilson Anderson, a trainer in the Charlottesville area who fate connected me with a few months ago when I was selling some blankets. I had received multiple recommendations that she was a lovely effective rider, especially with the young ones. When I reached out she not only agreed to come, but she said she had time the next day - turns out my new place is only 30 minutes away from her.
Sometimes when you ask, the universe answers.
That’s how today, Azul and I both received the exact ride we needed, even though I wasn’t even in the saddle. In the beginning, Azul had to deal with a horse who left the ring - cue temper tantrum. But watching it from the ground, I was able to see that A) it didn’t look as bad as it felt, and B) when Jill kept gently but firmly putting her back on task, eventually Azul settled. It never escalated to the worst case place I kept imagining. Now moving forward, I will be able to channel what Jill’s body was doing and her quiet, positive energy whenever Azul gives me the same sort of teenage resistance.
Then in her flatwork, I could see the pieces that were great (Azul’s trot is just coming along SO nicely as are her transitions down and up into it) as well as pieces that were still sticky (her canter transitions). I was able to see how Jill handled it, and at what place she needed to intervene with the stick (and how much better Azul was after she did). It was definitely different than how I had been dealing with it in the past, and I’m excited to move forward and try to use the tactic I can now feel in my body.
Azul also needed someone else to get on her who was not “mommy” to address the current situation. I feel so confident and comfortable now letting her sit and think on it for a few days, letting herself settle in a bit more, before I come back out to try to replicate it.
I guess this is just a very long winded way of saying that it’s so valuable to see someone else ride your horse. It gives you perspective, it allows you to step back and observe, and maybe even appreciate your horse a bit more. If someone has a problem that you don’t, it can be interesting to see why. If someone does something that you don’t like or agree with, that too allows you to log it away and avoid that tactic in the future. The best scenario is seeing someone ride your horse in exactly the way that you want it to look like when you ride your horse.
That’s what I was reminded of today, and it’s definitely something I will keep high on my priority list in the future. After all, my program may be Do-It-Yoursef, but it’s definitely not Do-It-Alone.