not getting desperate

I’m currently reading listening to How Trust Works by Peter H. Kim, PhD, who draws on decades of research in behavioral psychology and social sciences to explore how trust is built, broken and repaired. It’s an interesting read listen if you’re into that sort of thing!

pics are unrelated today bc we’re still doing the same stuff except even less now bc the world is apparently on fire…

I’ve read some of the books he mentions, and so was already familiar with a classic research study he cites, the “Good Samaritan” experiment from the 70s. 

The gist is: Seminary students participating in the study were sent across campus to give a talk (the topic varied, but for some was the parable of the Good Samaritan). On the way, they would encounter a stranger slumped on the ground, in obvious distress. In some cases, the stranger was quite literally blocking the seminarian’s path. 

The study’s striking result was that whether the seminarians stopped to help the stranger was most strongly predicted by how much time pressure they felt. Those who were told to get across campus ASAP were far less likely to stop (in some cases, they even stepped over the stranger to get to their sermon on the Good Samaritan, #irony), whereas participants who’d been told they had plenty of time helped more often than not. 

“stop making me look fat in pictures :’( ” — my plushly upholstered princess in our last session before the apocalypse
related — i’ll have a post up later this week with her current meal plan for those curious

It’s obviously a fascinating and famous study for a lot of reasons, and is referenced in a ton of books on behavioral and social sciences. 

Kim’s finding from this study is that specific features of a situation can influence how we choose to act more so than any individual personality traits. Or, more bluntly, it’s not only possible but easy to get ‘good’ people to behave ‘badly’ with the right situational conditions. 

He concludes that as situational forces grow stronger, our “individualistic” forces grow weaker, and therefore the notion that our characters alone will dictate how we act is simply wrong.

it was another good ride tho <3

Which… Ya know… Is maybe worth mulling over in a variety of contexts — as Kim does in his book on trust. For OUR purposes, however, I had a more topical framing in mind while listening to that chapter on the way to the barn. 

I’m always interested in trying to adapt or apply findings from behavioral sciences to my horsey pursuits. We all know riding is just plain hard, and for a lot of different reasons. And particularly, sometimes it feels like there’s this gaping chasm between how well I might understand a thing, compared to how reliably I can do it. Everyone has a plan until you get punched in the mouth your horse bolts sideways bc #bunnies, right??

So I’m always looking for little hacks, insights, little tweaks or changes to my approach that make it easier to get the outcomes I’m looking for, to establish consistency and reproducibility. To improve the quality of our routine practice etc.

but then… the apocalypse …. oof. no worries, tho, i’m sure more tariffs will fix it! 

So this chapter in Kim’s book caught my attention, specifically within the context of the key commandment that came up again and again across ALL the sessions at the Windurra camp: Don’t get desperate. 

Kim’s conclusions add an interesting nuance to that mantra, right? Which, in case you didn’t read my lengthy posts (lol), came up in multiple sessions including the sports psychology keynote with Natalie Hummel, the dressage demo with Silva Martin and Laura Graves, and the show jump course walk lecture with Peter Wylde. 

Each, in their own way, cautioned riders against getting too sucked into the drama of the moment, letting things escalate or snowball to the point of sacrificing position, precision or intention. Instead, they wanted riders to recognize those moments, take a beat to reset and try again.

 

at least the smoke seems to cut the heat dome humidity??

What the study’s conclusions clarify for me, tho, is that “getting desperate” is generally a function of specific situational circumstances rather than just a lapse in our individual skills or abilities. It’s not that “I suck under pressure,” it’s that pressure — especially time pressure — is a strong enough force to override all my good intentions. 

So learning to recognize that external pressure (time-related or otherwise) in the moment is key. And to take it a step further, it’s worth examining that pressure itself — how much of it is real vs basically self-imposed? Is there a way to consciously design or structure our environments to counteract negative pressure or actually create positive pressure?

Instead of consistently struggling in a given scenario and feeling like, ‘what is wrong with me?’ — maybe it’d be more productive / useful to reframe, asking, ‘what is it about this scenario that’s making things harder?’

For example, I’m a little-too-type-A about all things clocks and timing. Especially when paired with my “overthinking” and “trying to control everything” habits. One of my personality, uh, charms is that I’m kinda always watching the clock, estimating how much time a thing should take, setting expectations etc.

we can still engage the mind with in-hand activities while protecting the lungs!

Just the other day I was literally being an INSANE person overthinking my interval timer app. It’s programmed to ding every 2min for about 35 minutes, and I use it to provide structure and keep track of minutes trotting. 

I was torturing myself tho bc our round pen sessions are ~15min, and the riding session is usually 20-35min… Plus there’s the ‘intermission’ for leaving the round pen, getting on, riding up to the arena, doing a couple laps to settle in, etc… 

And I was going around and around in my head calculating exactly when to pause / resume / optimize this scenario to fully leverage the 35min program, without a lot of fussing with my phone or putting unnecessary pressure on Doozy by thinking that “once I press Resume we have to Go Right Now!!”… 

When… it hit me… Emma. WTF chill out, stop making everything a math problem— re program the app to go for like 60 or 90 minutes and call. it. a. day, dear lord LOL.

pictured: enrichment lol

Ahem. Cough cough. Moving on!

Insanity aside, tho, that realization was a little bit of an “Aha! for Dummies” moment lol. Bc that whole “external forces can overpower our normal inclinations, especially when time pressure is involved” thing works both ways, right? 

Reprogramming the app literally reversed the effect it was having on me — from making me hyper-fixate on ‘optimizing each moment’ to… just taking advantage of the intervals in whatever way worked for us in that moment, bc “we have plenty of time!”

It’s sounds so obvious, like such a no-brainer, and maybe it is. But to me, it was the perfect demonstration of an environment design choice that helps facilitate my best possible decision making and actions. 

we did beautification activities too!!

In the same vein, Peter Wylde suggested using strategically located cones to cue riders for a downward transition mid-course — to enforce a reminder to breathe and reset. 

Matt Brown talked about this in our last lesson, too — that flatwork can be so tricky bc of the *absence* of physical landmarks like an actual literal jump. Which, ya know, is maybe actually why dressage uses ring letters lol.

To me, the idea of deliberately designing our environments to support better behaviors is super appealing. And maybe kinda what last year’s Brit Bot was helping to accomplish too. 

“nbd, some of us were born breathing fire!!” — doozy, unfazed by the haze!

A way to use external signals to help me stay proactive vs reactive, while also explicitly cuing exactly the reminders I know I need. A way to reinforce good choices and make executing on my intentions easier, without needing to rely solely on memory, instincts, willpower or discipline.

Obviously, we can’t avoid negative pressure forever — especially in competitions, when it’s time, it’s time. But we have a lot more control over the circumstances of our everyday practice. So the idea, I think, is to structure practice as well as we can, and use the resources we have available to make a positive experience always the likeliest outcome.

Or ya know. At least until the next rabbit jumps out at us lol….

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!

first nibble of 2026

I’m currently reading Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi’s seminal work, Flow, and it’s adding a deeper layer of understanding to the whole idea of “process” vs “outcome” goals that I’ve been exploring the last few years. 

Csikszentmihalyi was a pioneer of positive psychology, and is often referenced in books on everything from mindfulness to behavioral economics to business leadership. His research is all about the psychological concept of flow, a highly focused mental state conducive to optimal experience.

step 1 toward going out on fun adventures: wake princess from her midday slumber! and behold! the snow is almost all gone!

In particular, he explains that this flow state is a function of the proportional intersection between ‘challenge’ and ‘skill’ levels. And that imbalances, whether they be from an activity that’s too easy for one’s skill level, or too challenging, make it harder to get completely into the moment. 

And he defines a new word (for me, at least): the ‘autotelic’ experience. He observes that so much of what we do, we do because we feel like we have to or should, for various extrinsic reasons. Autotelic is about the intrinsic value — doing something for its own sake vs any future reward. A “freely chosen discipline” rather than a restraint.

“will rise for cookies!!!” 

I think this is part of what makes horses so special — what draws so many people to horsey experiences, that they lend themselves in some important and meaningful way to finding that flow state. To just getting into the moment, letting everything else melt away and disappear.

And this is also probably why we see so much variety in the nature and contour of those experiences across the horsey spectrum. There are infinite ways to get fulfillment from our interactions with horses.

fast forward a couple hours and we’ve arrived at Loch Moy’s derby course!! Ms Thing is a water feature expert now, even when it’s dotted with icebergs lol

Like with anything, tho, we’re still susceptible to external pressures. Perhaps especially if we are pursuing experiences that involve sport and competition, which by definition have clear rules and guidelines and metrics for success. 

And at least for me, sometimes it’s been hard to separate my attention from what may come as a result of my effort, vs focusing on the effort itself, if that makes sense.

getting right to business with a bebe coop

For a time with Charlie, I had significant personal and emotional investment in some outcome-specific goals that ultimately we did not succeed in achieving. In retrospect, it’s easy to see that all along the way, I did not fully appreciate or took for granted some very special experiences bc I was too caught up in what they meant for our hoped-for future achievements. 

And since then, there’s been a bit of a ‘hangover’ effect on my ability to get back into competing without still being influenced by those same external pressures.

tiny telephone pole bc nothing is a big deal <3

So basically from the first with Doozy, I’ve really tried to wipe the board clean. To focus on enjoying the journey, the process of our growth and development together. To prioritize expanding our education and skills, while also accepting that where we are in any given moment is good enough. We’re doing the things for the sake of doing the things, and that’s enough!

loch moy has such an amazing collection of roll tops at basically all sizes

Obvi let’s be real, tho — I’m not saying that to act like we’ve actually mastered that intention LOL. No. Absolutely not. 

I’m saying it bc it bears repeating, bc I need to constantly remind myself. 

getting into a rhythm cantering around!

It’s an empowering frame of mind, tho, and is probably directly responsible for me waking up in the middle of the night and going, “ooooooh I should go to Loch Moy tomorrow!” lol… As one does, apparently. 

A week’s worth of warm weather finally cleared out most of the snow, and actually Loch Moy was all set up to host a derby this weekend (at which I was slated to volunteer), but another snowstorm forecast for yesterday cancelled those plans. Saturday was still gorgeous, tho, and everything was all set — so obvi we should take advantage, and build on the momentum from our recent lesson with Dan!

just me and my Fire Horse, all the time in the world and the whole place to ourselves!

Granted, the downside of these sorts of impulsive plans is that not everybody is on the same electrical jolt LOL. So I wasn’t able to twist anybody else’s arm into joining us. C’est la vie tho! 

Honestly I often prefer schooling on my own anyway if it isn’t a lesson. I like doing things on my own timing, and moving from spot to spot across the facility fluidly depending on what feels right, vs the ‘stop-and-go’ of waiting for folks or taking turns, etc. Tho obvi I wasn’t totally alone — naturally it’s a schooling facility with a steward and emergency protocols, rest assured.

actually trotted our first bn coop kinda just to remind us both that we could, channeling last year’s Sharon White clinic

Anyway, tho, it ended up being perfect. Perfect weather, perfect footing, paid for with a volunteer pass, AND we had the whole place to ourselves! It had apparently been a mad house earlier in the day, but by the time we arrived at 3:30, there was only one other rider still expected on the schedule. Perfect!!

We got ready at an unhurried pace, tho realistically Doozy is already so used to shipping out for lessons, that still ends up being about 20min between arriving and swinging a leg over. Then we moseyed thru the enormous derby rings and got on with our warm up.

just did one pass up the banks on this day

I also opted to turn on my interval timer app, which I don’t always do for xc trips like this, but use almost every ride at home. And it was useful too! Mostly for the warm up — The first 5 minutes definitely dinged sooner than I expected. Sometimes I think my tendency is to get a bit bogged down in the preliminaries of a ride, vs kinda just getting on with the actual riding, so that was a useful observation.  

then into the next ring — and more fantastically chunky inviting roll tops!

Obvi I tried to do Dan justice with our warm up too. Trying to recreate the same level of “on the aids” that he demanded, and also establishing my own solid steady posture and form. I won’t try to claim that we achieved ANY of that to a level that would have satisfied him (lol), but things felt good enough to me. Doozy was a touch explosive in the warm up, but only just a touch. 

i love these log rolls at basically all levels. bittersweet fact: the T version was one of the last big xc fences Charlie jumped, just a couple days before he got that bit of gravel stuck in his shoe and everything changed

And everything clicked right into gear when I started pointing her at itty bitty fences. Realistically, it’ll probably be easier for me to achieve what Dan is trying to establish for us within the jumping, vs just the warm up alone. Doozy is such a unique creature — she’s fairly insecure despite her bravery, and is always anticipating. 

So when I’m just trying to trot around, her mind is already eight steps ahead, thinking about cantering and jumping and what have you. But once we start jumping, it’s like she just settles in. Like, ‘ahh, yes, here we are.’

we’ve jumped all these fences before, and everything felt comfortable and easy <3

So once we actually got going, I was able to continue some of that transition practice — like interspersing walk transitions from trot, or almost walk transitions. And trot transitions from canter, or almost trot transitions. Ms Thing is learning her half halts, guys! So exciting lol…

And also practiced stopping straight after fences, or almost stopping but then proceeding. 

catching yet another lovely roll top cruisin’ around the course

And she was honestly perfect. We weren’t always super straight bc, real talk, I mostly decided where to go next on the fly, so my turns and lines weren’t always perfect. Doozy didn’t care, tho. 

She jumped whatever was in front of her, from trot or canter, perfectly. What a mare!

oooh and a sliiiightly taller brushed up coop to finish!

Of particular note — she kept her shape the whole entire time we were jumping. Like, ok, perhaps a step here or there on the landing side of fences when I wanted to bring her back. But exactly zero moments of losing shape on the approach to fences. Which you may recall was a big part of our hardships at both St Augustine and schooling at Shawan last year. 

To me, that is an enormous win, and hugely encouraging. Bc when she’s not turning herself inside out, inverting and deer leaping, I swear she’s literally the world’s easiest horse to jump!

extremely pleased with this mare, she just has the most incredible feeling to the jumps!

And because she felt so easy, patient, balanced and steady, we could string nice little courses together, catching all the chunky BN roll tops Loch Moy has to offer! We mostly did long sweeping turns across the full arena, one jump at a time, prioritizing steady rhythm and tempo. 

No muss, no fuss, just connected and cruisin <3

video here! didn’t trim the clips quite as aggressively as i often do, 

but it’s a nice representation of how we approached the jumping

And I was especially proud of myself bc after one little mini course, we were about 20min into the ride which… Realistically when I’m not in a lesson and things are going well, my rides are really only ever 20-25min… And I thought about being finished. 

Except, I spied a nice brushed up BN coop that honestly looked a *smidge* intimidating to me, even tho objectively I knew we could do it. I also objectively know that I often finish a ride a little early, preferring to “wish we’d done more,” vs the alternative… But here was our chance to just do one last little course!

paused for a cookie at the judge’s booth, maybe an investment in future good juju LOL

It was good practice too, bc Doozy is used to my habit of the “short ‘n sweet” ride too. But picking up and proceeding is as much a skill unto itself as anything else is. 

So we picked back up with intention, established our connection on the aids again (hilariously you can sorta hear Doozy grunting in the video but then she just settles right in again). And then went and jumped our final little loop as easy as pie! 

Even tho the brush jump rode straight toward the parking lot, where the day’s last trailer had arrived and was unloading. Even tho there was spooky noisy stuff. Nbd. Just went and did it, good mare!

warm enough to get sweaty after only about a half hour ride!!

So obvi we finished on that note, and headed back out to the parking lot to chat with the last rider (whom I know from volunteering) before feeding Doozy her dinner at the trailer, packing up and going home. 

dinner at the trailer is always a nice finishing touch LOL

It’s always so funny afterward, when I edit the video and take screen-grabs, there’s always this temptation to feel like, “oh I should have jumped this jump or that jump too, or why didn’t I try the ditch, or or or…” As if there’s some pre-defined metric for “making the most” of a ride. 

But. Eh. Maybe instead of thinking in terms of ‘maximizing,’ I’ll try instead to integrate Csikszentmihalyi’s concepts with an old motto from my grandfather, that it’s better to ‘optimize’ vs ‘maximize’ — that enjoying the activity for itself is the reward. And we’ll just grow from here!

installing buttons

Bad news in Baltimore… We’re already 3 weeks into the new year, and… Yep — *looks outside window* — it’s still winter. Womp.

There’s not really a whole heckuva lot going on right now in our world. And obvi all the warm fuzzy feelings of *inspiration* and *motivation* and *energetic excitement* associated with “New Year, New Me OMG!” can’t last forever, amirite? 

So… eh, let’s dial it back a little. Not ALL the way, tho, bc today’s topic is still entirely inspired by (and based in part on) my experiences of digging into those new year intentions. Specifically related to my foray into a new physical activity. 

Namely, I want to share a couple observations from attending yoga classes… Which, naturally, I’ll attempt to tie back into some sort of equestrian relevance.

sweet mare is so patient with all my shenanigans LOL

Bc it turns out, learning new things as an adult… kinda sucks lol. I’ve never been a fantastic multi-tasker anyway, but seriously guys. Trying to listen to, understand, and act upon a whole new set of vocabulary words in real time and real heat (did I mention the studio is heated??) while **simultaneously** not falling on my actual literal face during said actions, which themselves seem to defy physical laws of gravity and flexibility… Yeeeahhhhh, it’s been. Hm. Wobbly. 

The first few classes were a constant struggle. I burned so much energy just concentrating on following the prompts and remembering to breathe, that I often couldn’t make it through the full sequences. 

Soon enough, tho, things started clicking! Suddenly the words, poses and sequences became more familiar. My experience in class shifted from an overwhelming bombardment of sensory stimuli to organized flow. My stamina increased, my pants magically lost their post-holiday snugness… I felt good!

And what a trajectory, right? Exponential achievements unlocked! At this rate, I’ll be well on my way to nirvana in no time flat, right?? Right?!?

“nirvana?? yea right, get real, lady!” — doozy, 100%

Ahem. Cough cough. Yeeeahhh. About that. 

Anybody familiar with the phrase “regression to the mean” (or, I guess, familiar with the basic regression curve itself) recognizes this pattern. Starting from zero, followed by a period of rapid growth / improvement, before tapering onto a near-flat trajectory toward infinity. 

In other words, results tend to plateau over time. Not bc we suck or whatever, but bc it’s legitimately a long, slow, incremental process of building skill and proficiency in just about any and every endeavor. Like it or not, I’m probably stuck with the wobbles for the foreseeable future.

Relatable, right? Sliiiiightly discouraging, sure lol. And probably a big reason why a lot of new habits or intentions often don’t stick. Bc unless you legitimately enjoy the activity itself, that long slow grind isn’t super fulfilling lol.

Obviously there are plenty of parallels to riding just in that concept alone, too. Like how with Doozy, all those exciting new milestones from the early days — our first sit! our first jompies!! our first jompy lesson!!! — eventually gave way to the slow steady grind of incremental progress 2.5 years (really) later.

Have no fear, tho, this whole blog is basically a shrine to the grind LOL. So I promise not to dedicate this entire post to that subject. It’s been interesting and enlightening, however, to experience it more directly and personally, that’s for sure!

pictured: the face of a horse who is *astonished* at the suggestion that our progress has been slow
“don’t look at me, it ain’t my fault!” — doozy, without a doubt

So let’s move onto my other big main observation from these yoga classes: what that regressive concept means for understanding reproducibility in general, and the conditions for success in particular.

Sure, it’d be easy to believe that having finally accomplished a tricky twisty balancing pose for the first time, that now it’s part of my ‘repertoire,’ it’s something I can do. Or, in a more horsey jargon that I personally find mildly obnoxious, it’s a “button” that’s now been “installed.”

We’ve all heard it before, right? Maybe about some sort of flat work exercises — lateral movements, flying changes, fancy dressage stuff — that a horse has a ‘lot of buttons.’ 

And sure, there are some very nicely schooled horses out there who are capable and confident at executing upper level maneuvers with relatively minimal input.

But real talk…. there are some things I can do at the *end* of a yoga class that… I can not do at the beginning. And don’t even TRY to ask me for that same degree of flexibility or muscle tone when I’m standing at the bathroom sink, brushing my teeth after waking up in the morning. Bc it ain’t gonna happen like that. 

maybe i just have ‘warming up’ on my mind bc i’m trying to manifest to the universe??

Obviously this is NOT rocket science and I’m not telling you anything you don’t know by saying it’s actually the progressive warming up, stretching and activation of different muscle groups throughout class that suddenly makes those trickier poses more “available” to me. It’s not that we install a headstand “button,” but rather that the conditions for achieving a headstand* — aligning the spine, stacking hips and shoulders, etc etc — are met such that the headstand is possible. 

((**Obviously NOT referring to myself here, ain’t no way, no how, I’m stacked in ALL The Wrong Ways LOL))

Academically, again, this is not new information. For me, for you, for any of us. But going through the experiences personally, recognizing the differences in my own body between when I’m not ready for a particular movement vs when I am, has been enlightening.

And it’s made me think in new ways about how we go about “warming up” in a typical schooling ride. Bc again, let’s be real, it’s super easy to fall into a pattern of treating the warm up like a check list. Like, ok, let’s walk for 5minutes, trot for a bit, change directions, work both sides, introduce some figures, maybe a little canter, then voila! we’re ready to jump a couple jumps.

That might not necessarily be wrong either — perhaps it’s a normal pattern bc it basically normally gets the job done. But now it’s got me thinking more deeply about exactly which muscle groups I’m asking the horse to activate, when, and to what degree of intensity, and how that sequence can progress through a ride. 

looking forward to a day when we’ve got better things to do than navel gaze!!

And more specifically to that whole idea of “buttons” in the horse, it’s so easy to think that once we’ve schooled a horse to a specific movement or maneuver, then the horse should always be able to do that thing. When, in reality, it’s all the underlying conditions, circumstances, situations that have progressed to make that “button” available.

A horse that’s on the aids, in front of the leg, and relaxed but attentive will have an easier time stepping immediately into a new gait transition or lateral movement or whatever, compared to a horse for which some or all of those criteria are not met. 

More thoroughly trained or well schooled horses might get there faster with less fuss or rider input, might also have the conditioning necessary to do more “advanced movements” with less preparation (for example: plenty of folks can wake up and whip out some fancy poses while brushing their teeth cold at the sink,** right?)… sure. 

(**Tho there probably aren’t too many PRs recorded cold at the bathroom sink!)

But for the most part, I’m guessing a lot of us probably need to spend less time thinking about achieving specific movements or transitions or whatever, and more time focused on those basic fundamentals: on the aids, in front of the leg, relaxed but attentive.

The basic ingredients that make an activity possible and reproducible in the horse. For me and Doozy, for example, that could mean reframing how I think about practicing for dressage tests. Shifting focus from just rehearsing the test pattern itself to instead really working on practicing that ‘readiness’ to perform a test.

Not really an earth shattering concept or observation, obviously. But maybe interesting. At least to me LOL, on this cold wintry day, staring down yet another snowstorm! What do you think?

the dude abides

TGIF, friends! Hope everyone is looking forward to a nice weekend!! We’re getting a little break in the weather, with relatively mild temps — tho still some rain, so we persist indoors. Fortunately with Doozy’s new fancy shoes to improve the experience!! 

literally no clue what i’m talking about here — but hey, it’s a picture!!

And even better, not only was Doozy sound for our first trial ride, but a friend was able to snag a couple video clips too!! Yay media!!

It feels like a perfect moment in time to capture, too. Obvi for evaluating how Doozy responds to the changes in shoeing, but also for stepping back and grounding myself in the new year intentions we talked about last week. Particularly that whole “physical capacity” bit lol.

not-so-random flashback to the Charles Himself
it’s a rare shot where you can see BOTH sides of the rider at the same exact moment, so this is an interesting insight into my long-held postural asymmetries

As a step in that direction, I attended a yoga class on new year’s day, during which the instructor handed out notecards inscribed with various ‘sutras’ to all the participants. Mine said, 

“Then the seer abides in its own true nature (1.3).”

Which, it turns out, is not a Big Lebowski reference LOL, but maybe isn’t far off, either.

anyway. trotting around in our new dancing shoes!

A little light googling uncovered all manner of various translations and explanations of the verse, and its insights into the journey toward discovering one’s true nature. 

In particular, one article said this sutra was about recognizing that “our current state is just as it should be.” And that it intends to inspire us to begin—right now—to practice. That the realization of self is not to be viewed as a far-away, barely obtainable goal — but rather it is within us right now, waiting only to be uncovered.

trotting the other way too! #needsmoreforward

Which… Ya know, might be a **little** woo-woo, but also ain’t a bad message for those of us looking to use the new year as a launching pad, amirite? Here we are, right where we should be, ready to practice becoming what we want to be!

quick video clip of our post-canter trot

Ancient philosophical texts aside, tho, it’s a good message for me on many levels. My struggles with bad postural habits and asymmetrical strengths are, erm, well documented here on ye olde blogge. I’ve long since accepted the reality that I’ll never be able to just ‘flip a switch’ and suddenly sit tall like a dressage queen.

post canter trot has a better overall forward balance, tho perhaps feels less organized + ‘together’

Or at least, not while actively riding my horse… Since all my strengths and ability as a rider are rooted in those same muscular patterns that hold all my other habits. 

But! I can practice. And this year* I’m hoping to create space for that practice separate from saddle time. So that I can (hopefully) make the most of Doozy’s and my time together, showing up well-ish for her while also maybe observing how things do, or don’t, change in my way of riding with the added external practice.

(*Ahem, at least as of the time of this writing LOL, another one of my new year intentions was also to give space for fatigue, burnout, other external realities… so we’ll see which intention lasts longer!!)

needs more inside bend too lol
we went thru a phase where the answer was almost always ‘more right rein connection.’ doozy has moved on, but apparently i have not!

In our schooling sessions in between lessons right now, my aim is to stay as present as possible to our quality of going. Are my legs long, pushing down evenly into the stirrups on both sides? Is my rib cage level and upright, collar bone open with shoulders down and soft? Are my elbows bent, hands holding themselves up, with reins an appropriate length? Is my chin up? 

easy enough to pick ourselves apart, but i’m overall happy with our current state

And for Doozy: Is she in front of the leg? Can I move her off each leg, bend and counter bend? 

My biggest bugaboo right now (especially after riding inside for so long) is riding the horse a bit under powered. It’s tempting, ya know? It feels more organized, quieter, ‘steady.’ But with most horses, and definitely with Doozy, that’s also where the mischief lurks LOL. Like, for instance, bucking or kicking out into canter is a direct result of transitioning from a behind-the-leg trot.

the goodest girl <3 i love that she wears her forelock in the same dweeby center part as charlie <3 <3

So our current state isn’t ya know… perfect. But it’s where we are, right where we should be. Emma — focusing on postural alignment; Doozy — gettin’ in front of the leg!

All of which is aided hopefully in no small part by growing confidence that Doozy’s new shoeing arrangement will keep her comfortable. Since ya know. Our season of practicing dusty laps in the indoor is apparently far from over… I’m looking forward to worrying less about that particular component!

Anybody else getting started on any new practices for the year? Or doing any sort of personal rundown or assessment of the current status quo? 

micro munchies

We are definitely into the dog days of summer now, oof! Hot, humid, interminable days… punctuated as often as not by violent little thunderstorms… 

Which, real talk, I won’t complain about the rain bc for once in recent memory we are STILL growing pasture grass into July. Doozy’s farm is apparently the opposite of our last place in that it seems to catch every passing storm — something I appreciate as a grass-loving TB owner!

baking in the early evening summer sun

Still, tho, we’re getting into that time of year — esp with the post-solstice coat change — when Doozy seems to start cultivating skin funk like it’s her job. No joke, I’ve never seen rain rot as bad as what Doozy gets — it grows on her like moss. 

She already had a bad case by the time I first met and bought her, but I had hoped that by last summer (after a year in my care), the improvements in nutrition, general health, and regular grooming would naturally help prevent another severe case. And, uh, I was wrong.

jealous of the ponies in the shade lol, but grateful for the outdoor breeze!

Doozy’s skin funk last year was so bad, I would 100% have judged the F out of her owner if… uh, ya know, it wasn’t *me.* Life lessons, y’all. I continue to learn them with horses — sometimes things aren’t what they appear. You can really try, and still kinda fail. It is what it is lol.

Anyway, tho, we’ve so far kept the funk at bay this summer with constant post-work rinses of diluted apple cider vinegar. No emergent signs yet, at least. Ask me again in two weeks tho lol, and we’ll really know the truth!

walkway wanderin <3

As it is, we’ve had a quiet week or so after all the fun and festivities of back to back schooling shows at Loch Moy and then Tranquillity, plus shipping out for weekly lessons. We skipped last week’s lesson bc of the heat index, and then had to bump yesterday bc we scheduled for exactly the same time as yet another little expected thunderstorm. 

waiting out yet another late day thunderstorm

Nbd, tho, Doozy continues to do quite nicely with our rides. Something about getting her out more often really suits her. Too much time spent at home (like over this past winter), and Doozy starts creating her own excitement among the everyday mundane routine lol. But now that she’s back in the swing of more frequent adventures, home life is pleasantly ho hum. Gotta love it lol.

celebrity horse sighting while jump judging with my mom @ fair hill!
super socks bcf, 19 years young, having a blast around the starter course <3

An unfortunate downside to the frequent rain showers tho is that we’re often stuck inside for our schooling, in the dusty stuffy airless indoor, bleh. No joke, I’d rather negotiate with terrorists than ride indoors… But our outdoor ring footing simply doesn’t hold up to any moisture whatsoever and mgmt understandably prefers it stay closed in poor conditions. 

These are the tradeoffs for being at a place that actually cares about the maintenance and upkeep of its facilities LOL. So we make do with what’s available in the conditions, nbd.

ooooh we played with little jompies too <3

The rides themselves have mostly continued exploring the concepts I wrote about two weeks ago — namely, the “riding the footsteps” exercise with a deep focus on utilizing lateral flexion (without totally sacrificing straightness) to improve speed and balance. It honestly feels like really productive work especially relating to preserving relaxation vs introducing tension. 

A quote I read recently has really stuck with me — and I’ve been marinating on its applications and relevance toward horse training ever since:

A word is not a relationship between sound and object, it’s an agreement between people.

Which, according to ChatGPT, is a modern paraphrase of a core idea stemming from Saussure (circa 1906–1911), who emphasized that language is a social contract, not a mirror of reality.

more farm walkies

In other words, my riding aids are essentially meaningless to Doozy if we haven’t already established an agreed upon definition. Doozy hasn’t read the text book, she can’t inherently know about the whole “inside leg to outside hand” thing, if she doesn’t already understand and accept individually those leg or hand aids, ya know? 

Like, sure, the prescribed and studied ‘best practice’ postures and methods are fairly universally accepted bc when done right, they set both horse and rider up for success. But I feel like sometimes it’s easy to miss that… for many horse and rider partnerships, we kinda have to start from a more fundamental place.

so good at selfies lol

Take, for example, this idea of getting Doozy to accept my leg aids. For the last few weeks, I’ve started every ride with establishing leg contact right away, regardless of how Doozy feels about it. (And lemme tell ya, Doozy feels about it.) With the idea that eventually she’ll just, ya know, get used to it. Accept it. Or something. 

Meanwhile, since we’ve been practicing this more intentional steering exercise — being thoughtful and deliberate about staying constantly on a well defined line of travel, down to the very footfall — I realized in our ride yesterday that actually, Doozy had nothing to say whatsoever about my leg contact. She just… went along quietly responsive. No bouncing off the leg, jigging or swishing her tail at the touching omg!

And it occurred to me that… ya know. Maybe I’ve kinda misunderstood the directive about Doozy “accepting the leg aid,” lol. Maybe it doesn’t matter so much that it’s touching her — rather, it matters that the touching means something, communicating a specific and understood thing. She accepts bc she understands. 

truly a hard life

Always good food for thought for me to remember to focus on what I’m trying to tell the mare, vs how the text book says my aids need to be applied. Eventually lol maybe the two things will be perfectly aligned… But, eh, not yet haha.

For now, it’s enough to sorta go through our paces and patterns and figures (and little jompies lol) with just this simple idea in mind. Lord knows I’m always on the hunt for easy ways to score quick wins when it feels too hot for “heavy work” lol…. Anyone else out there working on little micro tasks while trying to avoid melting in all this heat?