Be careful what you call your horse… Ever remember being told that the horse mirrors us as riders? It isn’t fictious or simply some casual reference to be thrown around in jest. The horse really does mirror us, but maybe not in the way you think.

It is really easy to believe that the horse mirrors us on a superficial level. For example, when we are out of balance in the saddle, naturally we cannot expect to have a balanced horse underneath us. But deeper than that, there are things which we are riders, and individuals, may not be eager to take a close look at. When my horse is lazy, am I the same? When my horse refuses to communicate with me without exploding or reacting excessively, where in my life am I responding that same way with those I’m communicating with? Or my spooky horse… is he showing me that I too have fears that I am not facing but instead am trying to run away from and avoid?

[warning : minor exploitive plug for Awareness In Riding ]
This is exactly why I work with riders in conjuction with a Life Coach… because horsemanship is super simple – rediculously so! That isn’t why we struggle as riders, we struggle because that is how we are running the rest of our life, and when we gain clarity, honesty (real honesty!) and awareness with ourselves, it carries over to every aspect – including horses. Life gets simpler, and so do horses.

Every time I go out to work with horses, I don’t go out to train them or teach them. I go out to communicate with them, to experience the interaction with a conversation rather than a one-sided lecture or decision making. I want to one day see this be the norm among riders. Sadly, as I see it right now, it is not the common method of interacting with horses – but then again it is only a barometer of our ability, as a society, to communicate with one another and be self-aware in general.

I hear that tomorrow it is supposed to be a beautiful day… go out and try having a conversation with your horse!

That time of the year is here, as we find ourselves (at least in the north) climbing out from the short dark days of winter that can at times be brutal. Waking up we dust off some of the remnants of snow – or at least prepare for the day when we can finally shovel that last bit of snow from the walk ways. I feel like that time of the year has started. I am more energized through the day, I’ve stopped stocking up on food to keep me warm and insulated through the hibernation phase. Maybe it is just all of the Vitamin D from the daily dose of sunshine bouncing off the remaining piles of snow… Whatever the cause, I am happy to see the threat of spring!

What I really want to talk about however are relationship skills. It isn’t every day that the interactions with people in  my life bring about great ephiphanies in the way of how we relate with the horse and build communication, trust and motivation in each other, but I am lucky enough to have regular encounters that spur some greater understanding.

I’ve come to find that the way in which we build a relationship with the horse is the fundamental foundation that everything else is built upon. If we have a poor foundation everything else fails – communication, trust, motivation, etc. With that note, I will be broadcasting live for the first time on internet radio on February 1 at 12 noon (cst). I will be discussing various aspects of relationship building with the horse. I would like to invite you to tune in, let a friend know and pass the word around. Viewers will be able to call in or email questions throughout the show for a truly interactive experience. This is in partnership with Awareness In Riding through their AIR Radio Channel.

These radio broadcasts are scheduled approximately every two weeks on Sundays at 12 noon (cst). Be sure and subscribe to our channel to stay up to date on broadcasts. You will also be able to check the schudule of broadcasts by visiting either the AIR Radio Channel or our Calendar of Events. Previous broadcasts will be available for a time on the AIR Radio Channel as well.

Any inquiries regarding the show’s contents and topics can be directed to Awareness In Riding.

We are still running through lots and lots of video taken over this weekend from The Core Workshop, which was put on at Awareness In Riding in Milton, Wisconsin. Many thanks to those who showed up, it wouldn’t be a workshop without participants! I also want to thank my wonderful camera ‘man’ (my mom).

This clip shows some excerpts from Saturday, talking a bit about clarifying words, the meaning behind natural horsemanship, the predator/prey relationship, communication and so on.

You can find out more about The Core Workshop.

The horse gives us all of the information we need in order to succeed in eliciting the highest level of movements and purest form of grace from him, if we but listen…

As riders, as humans, as members of society, listening is often a lost art. It is something we often long to receive from other people, that is the gift of them listening to us, and a talent we don’t often give enough attention to developing in ourselves. Listening involves more than our ears, it is not grounded only in the aural communication between one another, involves not the noisy chatter. Rather, listening involves every sense, those known and those unknown. Listening is the awareness of information and energy being conveyed to or near us. Listening is even self-directed, that is the awareness of our own energy, our own signals, movement, position in space and time. Our presence.

When we ride our horse it is easy to get locked into the habit of telling, of talking, of being the lead communicator. Dictating, directing, steering, controlling. Rarely do we simply listen, simply exist without our own input. We do not regularly surrender ourselves to dedicated observation. It could even be said that we have some fear of it. We do not understand fully that which is unknown – the listening. We fear what could happen if we relinquish our control and instead depend upon the horse’s input. So rather, we set down our listening, our observation, our awareness…, and pick up a new tool of constant chatter, constant output on our part, constancy without fluidity, without movement.

What happens when we listen? We transform the invisible into the blatantly obvious. We begin to see new depths of understanding that were not present during our chatter. The horse, like us, longs to be listened to. When he is listened to, he gains the confidence and encouragement to talk more, to give more of his energy, of his presence, of his beauty and grace. He transforms, as do we in our listening.

We are all capable of ‘hearing’ different elements, components of what is ‘spoken’. We are all in need of hearing these things in a certain manner, a certain order, and what we hear is appropriate for us at the time. All we need do is listen. We listen when we carry an infinite mind, one which is not limited by time, order, arrangement, expectation, presupposition, demand, goal or thought. A mind which lives only in the present moment, is listening only to what is being given right now.

I think of a phone conversation with a very good friend of mine, we were unfortunately having an argument at the time, and he made the statement that he was a good listener as a friend, a statement which I could not agree to at the time. He asked how I could say such a thing, and I told him I wanted to tell him a story if he was willing to listen. In the moments it took me to compose my mind to arrange the story I wished to tell him, he was practically chomping at the bit, breaking into the silence with the question, “well aren’t you going to tell me the story?” Of which my response was that I would if he would only listen. Again, there was silence as I had been disrupted in my mental organization. Just as I was about to open my mouth there was another break in the silence as he remarked, “hello? I’m listening.” I chuckled a bit, though slightly upset that he once again stopped listening, to which I said, “I’m just waiting for you to listen.” This went on, back and forth for almost an hour, before he finally stopped and listened for about a minute’s length before breaking into the silence. I talked to him about it, I said that there was much more I could say without words, but he wasn’t willing or able to listen enough to hear that which I cannot give with words alone.

I think about this moment, with myself in the horse’s position. Just at the time I was ready to put forth effort and energy, willing to give a story, I was stopped, halted by the lack of listening. Stopped with chatter. Unnecessary chatter to convince me to tell a story I was on the verge of telling already. I think of my horses, I think if I but listen long enough they will give me their energy, their beauty, grace… their story. But if I stop listening for a moment, I stop it in it’s tracks. I prevent the horse from giving me just the thing he was prepared to but a minute ago. If I do this long enough, why would he ever consider telling me the story, if every time I only stop him to confirm that ‘I am listening,’ despite the obviousness that I have just stopped listening. I prove myself wrong.

So, to my horses I endeavor constantly to be the listener. The watch without time, that simply ticks on with consistency, fluidity, marking only the present for there is no measure of the past or future. To wait for the words that cannot be spoken, that which cannot be given with words. That which is only heard if I am listening.