I hardly dared move my feet. I’d either slip on the ice, step in a puddle, or trip over a pile of frozen horse manure, and there’d go all my dignity. Such is March weather in Minnesota—you’re still cold and getting blasted with snow, only now the sun is so high you get sunburned. ;)
Maia didn’t seem to mind, though. She was whizzing around on the end of the lunge line, slipping on the ice and crashing through the puddles with all the energy she has after not having been worked with for days. And all I could see was how she was counterbent, not in a state of balance, unable to respond to release, and using the wrong muscles.
So I quickly set to work. Move this, change this, don’t forget to bend but keep up your energy and yet slow down and engage your hindquarters and find your balance and move off of there and keep up there and stay responsive and stop and go and speed up and slow down and good grief don’t pull on the line and calm down and stay light and don't pull.
Pretty soon I was thinking horsemanship was way a lot of work and Maia was thinking it was pretty dumb. Not to mention I was moving around so much I was in danger of slipping on the ice.
Afterward, I started to realize how I was not operating at all in the principles of release. I was so concerned with keeping her light and soft and balanced that I was doing so without any release at all—meaning, I was nagging. Nagging is the opposite of working with release, because it means you’re constantly trying to change the horse and “do work,” instead of simply “being” and letting the horse move and change on his own.
So the next session, I decided to use the principle of release and not get so hung up on the feeling of it (lightness). As Maia zoomed around on the end of the lunge line, I decided to let her pull on the rope a little, let her counterbend a little, and not worry about it. Instead, I just focused on staying out of her way and letting her just feel free at the end of the line—free to move without being nagged. I’d give her a suggestion, then let it all go for a lap or two, then another alteration, then a lap or two of rest.
In other words, I stopped worrying so much and trying so hard. I just looked at one thing at a time and let her “get away” with the rest. Trying to improve too much at once makes you both frustrated; having an imperfect horse or one that pulls a little does not make you a bad horse trainer. It’s just the way your horse is at that moment, and nagging is not going to help make a permanent change.
Only when your horse chooses to change and fully understands it will that change become embedded in him such that he does it on his own, by his own free will. He will realize it feels good to move and be that way—but only if you show him it without nagging, which is a type of force.
When I changed to stop nagging and start allowing—allowing both some mistakes and her to change them—everything became quieter. Maia’s expression softened, and she became lighter than she had been with all of my nagging and focus on lightness. I became quieter—she became quieter. It is an easier horsemanship than you think, horsemanship based on release.
Not to mention it lets you stand still and not slip on the ice. :)
Maia didn’t seem to mind, though. She was whizzing around on the end of the lunge line, slipping on the ice and crashing through the puddles with all the energy she has after not having been worked with for days. And all I could see was how she was counterbent, not in a state of balance, unable to respond to release, and using the wrong muscles.
So I quickly set to work. Move this, change this, don’t forget to bend but keep up your energy and yet slow down and engage your hindquarters and find your balance and move off of there and keep up there and stay responsive and stop and go and speed up and slow down and good grief don’t pull on the line and calm down and stay light and don't pull.
Pretty soon I was thinking horsemanship was way a lot of work and Maia was thinking it was pretty dumb. Not to mention I was moving around so much I was in danger of slipping on the ice.
 |
| Maia's expression was something like this, which, in elaborate horsemanship terms, could be called, "ticked off"! |
Afterward, I started to realize how I was not operating at all in the principles of release. I was so concerned with keeping her light and soft and balanced that I was doing so without any release at all—meaning, I was nagging. Nagging is the opposite of working with release, because it means you’re constantly trying to change the horse and “do work,” instead of simply “being” and letting the horse move and change on his own.
So the next session, I decided to use the principle of release and not get so hung up on the feeling of it (lightness). As Maia zoomed around on the end of the lunge line, I decided to let her pull on the rope a little, let her counterbend a little, and not worry about it. Instead, I just focused on staying out of her way and letting her just feel free at the end of the line—free to move without being nagged. I’d give her a suggestion, then let it all go for a lap or two, then another alteration, then a lap or two of rest.
In other words, I stopped worrying so much and trying so hard. I just looked at one thing at a time and let her “get away” with the rest. Trying to improve too much at once makes you both frustrated; having an imperfect horse or one that pulls a little does not make you a bad horse trainer. It’s just the way your horse is at that moment, and nagging is not going to help make a permanent change.
Only when your horse chooses to change and fully understands it will that change become embedded in him such that he does it on his own, by his own free will. He will realize it feels good to move and be that way—but only if you show him it without nagging, which is a type of force.
When I changed to stop nagging and start allowing—allowing both some mistakes and her to change them—everything became quieter. Maia’s expression softened, and she became lighter than she had been with all of my nagging and focus on lightness. I became quieter—she became quieter. It is an easier horsemanship than you think, horsemanship based on release.
Not to mention it lets you stand still and not slip on the ice. :)
