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.

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!

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.