Monday, December 15, 2008

On being here and now



Presence. That’s what she told me.

All week I’ve been searching for these famous last words Cynthia offered at the very end of our latest lesson. In fact, it started with a question: “So what’s your take-away life lesson this week?” As I recall, my answer was something very, very clever. Something along the lines of “Duh?”…

Being her calm self, she put on her roguish smile and simply said “Be present”. She said I needed to always be there for what was going on in me, around me and last but not least, under me, in order to always be prepared to react, or better yet… avoid mishaps altogether. At the time, this sounded like such evidence that I quickly brushed it under the carpet without giving it a second thought. In my head, it sounded like: “Note to self: be more aware of the horse’s movements…Ok, next?

Clearly, at the time, I hardly considered her well-intentioned comment as a “life lesson”. But it so happens that my unconscious mind keeps track of all these little “evidences” that I discard and processes them in the background, often to serve them to me again when I am more receptive, humble and…present.

So a week has gone by, I’m walking the streets on my way to work and this loyal and reliable unconscious mind of mine popped Cynthia’s words right there, in the middle of the “today’s featured concerns” trailer playing in my head. The thing is, there have been cart loads of changes in my life in the past few months and juggling with everything seems to have left my brain stuck in high gear. And this has been very, very uncomfortable…to say the least. It’s been taking a toll on my sleep, my patience with the kids and my overall well-being. The “present” has recently been the last thing on my now ever-racing mind.

Being in a drastic life transition, I seem to always be in a “post-mortem” (Should I have done this or that otherwise? Was this or that a mistake?) or “intense planning” mode (How am I going to tackle this? Am I going to be able to pull that off?). And these otherwise very interesting exercises involve a lot of past issues, future challenges, but hardly ever the infamous “here and now”. So instead of being present therefore focused, confident and calm, I was all over the place and ridden with fear, guilt and anxiety. And that, I now realize, has been the precise source of my recent disquiet. What more can I say?

So there on the sidewalk, I had a tremendous “Ah! Ah! moment”. A life lesson IT WAS after all. One that I will certainly apply to riding, as best I can, but also one that I absolutely need to bring along with me outside of the arena, where “nature” is actually a lot wilder than in our generally peaceful barns.

Thank you so very much C.




Saturday, December 13, 2008

Downfalls

I was looking for a cure to get rid of my fear of falling off horses. Well, winter sent it to me along with that spectacular ice storm that fell on our heads a couple of days ago...

Upon opening the curtains that morning, I saw everything from cars to fir trees to mailmen transformed into giant shiny MrFreezes. Oh! It WAS beautiful indeed. But if you had to set foot outside, it redefined walking into an extreme sport.

I had to go to work even if I must admit I thought about calling in "pale". It took me 15 minutes of banging, scraping & pulling to finally open my car's door (just to move it, I ended-up taking the bus). There was approximately 1 1/2 inch of ice e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e... Oh, well, you want to live in the Great White North, you deal with it... right?

Anyway, the day went by, no electricity cut, which was nothing short of a miracle in these conditions. But I have to come back from work, eventually. When I got to my bus stop, I stepped out, waited a minute for the light to turn green, and resumed walking confidently to cross the boulevard that leads to my home. And there, right in the middle of the intersection, unconspicuous under a thick layer of brownish slush, lurked an invisible patch of ice. I stepped on it.

Next thing you know, I am flat on my back, the wind knocked out of me, my foot, back and neck aching like crazy, and I'm struggling to get back on my feet before the mandatory 30 seconds to cross are gone and cars start running me over. And however difficult that situation may have been, surprisingly, my first thought was : "This was so much worse than falling in the dirt from a trotting horse!" The icy street was rock hard and compared to that, the dirt of the arena - even with it's crunchy aftertaste - almost (and almost would be the operative word here) feels like a bed of feathers.

Alleluhia! I think I'm cured!!!

Luckily, I was not badly hurt. A little sprain here, a little bruise there, nothing to write home about. But in all honesty, what really, really hurt me, is the fact that there were two people walking in front of me. And these two caring and thoughtful individuals heard me fall, heard my cry of pain, and only slightly turned their heads to see me struggle before they continued crossing without even slowing their pace. What a shame!

At least horses come and see if we're hurt when we take a tumble!!!

A final thought for two of my fellow bloggers who have taken a bat hit from mother nature: Daun from The Eventing Percheron who in survival mode after the ice storm and Stacey from The Jumping Percheron who is dealing with the aftermaths of heavy rain and destructive mudslides. Hang in there ladies!




Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Jumping mental barriers on the flat

Well, well... I don't know if it was the pain killers buzz or what, but today was a great class. Not only did I succeed SOME haunches in (Cynthia told me to forget about the bending, so I didn't have to try to conceal anything...Phooey!) and I believe Meeka and I jumped over an important mental barrier. 


Class today was more of the same: putting her on the bit, serpentines, shoulder in, haunches in and then canter. Since I have improved **considerably** on the canter (bear with my gloating please, it's a new skill I'm trying to learn), mostly because I have gained so much confidence lately, I am now allowed to canter all around the arena instead of staying on the circle. So there was finally new territory for me to explore today, even if I thought all would be under control since I was now a self-proclaimed "Master of the Circle". But hey, If horses had sleeves, they'd constantly pull new stunts out of them, woudn't they? They certainly keep you on your toes (as long as the heels are down...who's complaining really?)

I guess I had not been assertive enough during the class, Meeka must have felt she could basically do whatever she wanted because while cantering on the long side of the arena, she decided she'd cut through and double instead of obeying my desperate attemps to keep her on the track. First time around, I was really surprised. It felt like if I had a blowout on my car...

Mistake #1: I cooly walked her back to the track. She got what she wanted: not to canter.

Meeka: 1 - Me: 0. 

Then we went at it again. On the same wall, at the very same spot, she cut again! Now proactively coached through this by Cynthia, I had to have a little fight with Meeka (NO, you're not going to walk, crop,  NO you're not going that way, crop crop, and YES, you're going back on the track NOW, crop, to resume canter). To me it totally felt like rodeo. It was nothing of the sort, of course, she remained totally calm through all of this, but it was my very fist real struggle for power in a saddle, so yikes!. Sounds good? Well, I now know it was too little too late. 

Mistake #2: I should have known this was going to happen and prevent it with firmer aids in the first place.

Meeka: 2 - Me: 0. 

At that point in time, I told Cynthia I had been scared a little (how about that for an understatement?) so she called me to come close, explained how I should really act BEFORE Meeka even thinks about pulling another one of these unexpected self-steering initiatives. And she chatted, and explained, and explained again, so much so that Meeka and I figured class was over and we could both get out of this and go back to the barn for some tasty hay and/or the car for some well deserved heat! (Darn it was cold in that barn today!!!)

But were we wrong!!! Coach had tricked us into relaxing, forgetting about the fight we were in, thinking this was all over but NOT! She asked for us to get out of our chit chat induced semi-comatose state (I believe she referred to it as "parking mode") and go for another turn of canter: same hand, same wall, same unfinished battle, same terrified rider aboard. You should have heard the sirens going on in my head. I was scared to death because I new if I did not succeed, Meeka would, again, make a sharp turn, accelerate, and I would get that dreaded "total loss of control" feeling.

So back on track we were and I finally did succeed. It felt like I was trying to get her to hit the wall but it seemed that for today, it was just enough to keep her straight. Yeah! I'm very proud of what I did (overcoming the fear mostly). 

Meeka:2 - Me: Happy.




My achilles tendon is letting me down...

I have a lesson today and my foot hurts like hell. I haven't told you this but about a year and a half ago I had a stupid, stupid accident while washing a window that left a 2" scar on the skin of my Achilles tendon. The window I was washing was out of it's track, it was blown by the wind and fell on my head. It then exploded in a thousand pieces, one of them still large enough to slide along my back and land on my Achilles tendon, slicing the skin open (not the tendon itself though, lucky me). 


Since then, I've struggled with a limp in the morning and some on and off pain. And this pain doesn't seem to be going anywhere, in fact, it's seems to be getting worse. It now extends down to my heel and it really hurts as soon as I put my foot down. And today, it's snowing like crazy in permafrost land, and I don't know if it's even related, but the pain is worse than ever. So bad that I'm even considering not going to my lesson because stretching this thing surely will not make it better. 

Darn... What to do???




Saturday, December 6, 2008

Then again, maybe it WAS me...

Meeka was as cool as a cucumber. It wasn't lunchtime, it wasn't too cold, it wasn't farrier fest, there was absolutely no reason for her not to be on her best behaviour. And so she was, and I was inconspicuously celebrating the great lesson I was gonna have, thinking that it would be a breeze and that I could regain some of my lost confidence. Unfortunately I was in, yet again, for a lesson in humility.


She was on the leg, attentive. Trot trot trot... Shoulder in started as a bit difficult but Cynthia quickly reminded me I only needed to keep her bended after the short sides corners and then it became almost too easy. Trot trot trot... So we went back to haunches in. I was brimming with confidence with Meeka in such a great relaxed mood so I went for it full throttle. 

**Sigh**

I must admit, this time around, it was definitely me. There seems to be someting that doesn't compute in my brain when it comes to outside reins. Cynthia kept telling me I was using too much inside rein (to bend her) compared to the outside one, and that it should actually be the contrary. At that moment I think I had a brain cramp because I heard some sort of a crackle and a definite pop inside my riding cap. I could't understand a word of what Cynthia was trying to explain, I was too busy thinking that this didn't make any sense to me. I think she got a hint when she saw the dazed look in my eyes, because she suggested we cantered a little (for those of you who knew me back then, you should see me now!!!) and Meeka and I immediatly remembered this was supposed to be fun... Right Dea?

So I decided to leave the dust to settle for a couple of days and I think I get it now. If any of you think I am mistaken, please tell me what you think. Here's my take on my complete insuccess with haunches in, Meeka's mood not being an impediment like last week:

In fact, I think that since my inside leg may not have been strong enough at the girth, there was no tension in my outside rein. So I pulled a little more with the inside rain in order to get some semblance of a bend. But then this inside hand, that recieved no counter resistance from the right, got to be very harsh. At that point, Meeka was definitely over-bended and got p-r-e-t-t-y exasperated from the fact she was trying to give me what I wanted, and I kept pulling at her mouth because I had no idea of what was happening whatsoever. 

Now if I understand better: more inside leg, use newly created tension in outside rein to hold shoulders in place (so we don't hit the wall), slight bend of the nose towards the inside with the inside rein (oh! so soflty) and slight push with outside leg towards haunches to get the now infamous "banana shape" that's expected of me and Meeka. Is that it???

Anyway, I gave in to popular reccomendations and finally ordered the Kyra Kyrklund dressage manual. Holidays reading par excellence. So between her and Cynthia, if I STILL don't get it, I certainly AM the one with the biggest challenge...