on taking the plunge

I participated in my 75th yoga class this week, which feels like a good milestone moment to check in on what I’ve learned and what it means for me, particularly through the lens of my horsey endeavors and goals for the year. 

Not so much from a physical tactical exposition of how the poses align with good equitation (answer: they do!) or whether that means I’ve seen massive improvements in my own position as a result (answer: not really!). But rather, there are other observations I’ve made from the practice that resonate possibly on a deeper level.

“oh boy, here she goes again….” — doozy, probably

In particular, a teacher offhandedly mentioned the book Eastern Body, Western Mind in class one day, so naturally I downloaded it. While driving to our first event last month, I listened to the chapter on a parable of describing a stream — first from the perspective of an observer on the banks, and then again from the perspective of being fully immersed in the stream.

Perhaps, while observing from the banks, you might note the stream’s size, width, color, the surrounding foliage, how it looks and sounds. But upon taking that step down from edge and into the stream, your perception might change entirely. Now you might describe the stream from a more sensory perspective — the temperature of the water, the texture of the riverbed beneath your feet, the push and pull of currents.

everything looks (and feels!) a little different from that first person perspective!

The gist is that there are two modes of “knowing” a thing: observing from the outside, vs experiencing from within. Description vs participation. And that there’s this threshold moment, transition, inflection point when you take that step into.

Obviously readers who have been around for a while (or perhaps even just those observant enough to note the title of this website) will know I’ve spent a lot of time grappling with the subjects of fear, anxiety and confidence. And this little parable about observing the stream from outside vs inside is, I think, an illuminating way to consider the idea of anxiety. 

Anxiety is inherent to the transition, the decision to act, to step in. It’s a visceral response to this idea of crossing into uncertainty. We can spend a lot of time thinking about why that is — perhaps it’s fear of failure, performance anxiety, fear of the unknown… Maybe it’s all of those things. 

casually observing professionals doing professional things from the sidelines is… not quite the same

To observe from the sidelines maybe feels safer, there’s more control, more predictability, less exposure. There are different levels of proximity, too — for example, if we’re thinking about horse shows, observing from the distance of a volunteer at a show, or going to cheer on a friend, is ‘closer’ than watching a video on social media. And maybe this sorta incremental inching closer to the edge is a way to create familiarity or “dip your toes in.” 

But I think the point of the story that sticks with me is that it is the act of immersion itself that changes perception and perspective. 

I’ve often said that I love volunteering bc it normalizes the whole horse show experience — including witnessing countless little (or big) mistakes throughout the day that generally are just nbd, just part of the process, and not worth letting yourself get paralyzed from action bc of them.

pictured: not quite the same LOL, but still fun ;)

That’s not really what this story is saying, tho. Rather, it’s saying that the act itself is experienced so differently from however you may have described it as an observer, that it bears almost no resemblance. In other words, ‘how it looks’ never truly encompasses how it feels. Which means it’s possible to miss key details, perhaps the most important.

And this can cut both ways, right? Like at one of my worst ever horse shows with Charlie, at Plantation Field, where we retired after multiple refusals… We have literally ALL seen horses have refusals. It happens. It’s not the end of the world. But in that moment? To me? Well. The fact that I’m still talking about it all these years later is clear enough indication that the experience left a heavy mark.

Meanwhile, last month when Doozy and I had a refusal on course… the experience itself was completely different, and in fact I still walked away feeling like we’d had a great day — even tho literally anybody could have looked at the scoresheet after the fact and pegged our performance as ‘poor.’

fun fact — i was SUPER ANNOYED at Area II Champs last year bc i forgot to pack a saddle pad for show jumping and had to settle for a janky trailer spare… but tell me (and be honest) — who noticed the mouse pee before i pointed it out??

For me, that’s kinda the big lesson here. That what we might have thought from the outside often shifts when we’re actually in the moment, doing the thing. Perceptions of what might constitute failure — or success! — can shift from hypothetical to contextual, becoming less about judgment and more about adjustment.

For me, recognizing this is actually helping me grow my confidence. It’s not just a matter of feeling more prepared or more ‘ready,’ but actually that repeatedly immersing myself in the experience proves that, ‘Yes, I can handle this!’ and that the existential feelings of doom and dread of possible failure are… maybe actually a bit overblown. Actually, the water’s fine!

constantly working hard to reframe my goal… it’s not about eliminating anxiety or perfect performance… but just simply getting in and trusting it 

And back to the 75 yoga classes, obviously it’s not a perfectly analogous activity to leaving the start box on cross country… the scope and scale is obviously entirely different. But it’s still a matter of showing up. Getting into the moment. Practicing doing the thing, getting into the flow. Repeatedly proving to myself that, “Yep I can!”

I think, for me at least and ymmv, integrating this sort of practice and intentionality has been a big longterm goal for me. Horses are hard, the sport is hard, it can be a rollercoaster. But actually, at the end of the day, there’s nothing quite like the feeling of actually splashing around in the stream, experiencing it first hand!