Dare to err and to dream. Deep meaning often lies in childish plays.
Friedrich Schiller
Horses are not machines.
Or robots.
They are thinking, feeling, emotional creatures. Just like you and me.
But it’s easy to become so focused on a goal, on a process, on being a certain kind of rider… that we lose sight of the horse we’re working with.
To forget that their focus is not the same as ours.
No matter how much we tell ourselves they love what we ask them to do, we’re still the ones having to ask. Does a horse ever care if they win a blue ribbon?
But it’s become expected that we should care about the color of a ribbon. That blue signifies some greater importance in our relationship with our horse.
But a winning pair can still hate one another, and all the blue ribbons in the world won’t change that.
So why not try something unexpected instead? What’s stopping you?
I rather prefer this to the traditional, the socially acceptable. Do something that makes you and your horse smile, despite all the frowns others point your way.
True story, I used to team pen in an english saddle. Without stirrups. Riding my horse in a halter. It made me grin from ear to ear. We never chased the cows with any intentions to win, or any measure of seriousness. The fees I paid, I considered to be donations.
I did, btw, own western tack to properly fit in if I so chose. But I didn’t, and I don’t.
And my horses seemed to enjoy themselves. They were calm and relaxed. They responded to me and I listened to their feedback. At our local team penning events, calm and relaxed were rare adjectives.
We received a lot of frowns. And a lot of accusing questions. But they only made me laugh more because I wasn’t at the event for the horse people. I wasn’t there to fit in or look a certain part. I was there to enjoy it with my horses, and I happened to prefer riding in an english saddle. Without stirrups. In a halter.
There were a few occasions when we, surprisingly, took first place. But that was no indicator of whether we’d ridden better than any other time. No measure of my abilities as a rider.
Because these rewards are fleeting.
They’re like compliments we receive for being beautiful. Perhaps we worked very hard to look more attractive to other people, just as we might work very hard to win a competition or acknowledgement from the horse industry.
But that doesn’t make it permanent. It doesn’t prove us better deep down inside.
Losing doesn’t either. There’s no glory as a martyr in today’s world.
But what does your horse think of you? His opinion is less fickle. It’s non-political and lacks fearful judgement.
A person needs a little madness, or else they never dare cut the rope and be free.
Nikos Kazantzakis
Why do something unexpected? Do it for selfish reasons. Do it to grow as an equestrian. Dare to do something unexpected just for the possible joy of it, without requiring a goal or reward.
Because to do something unexpected is to be alive, and conscious of this very moment with your horse.
Those are memories you don’t need ribbons to remind you of.


LiaS says
Here, here! I spend time just playing with my horses, but I’ve been lately pondering all those truly “crazy” things I did as a teen rider, and what value they had in the relationship as well as in developing a well rounded horse. For example, the times a group of us would play tag, bareback and with only neck ropes for control – no adults around to tell us what might go wrong. No one got hurt, and we were all better riders (and horse companions) for it! Sadly, I read so many other bloggers who write of training, and clearly never get out of the arena and their chosen discipline. So, thank you for this refreshing perspective!!