Joy is not a crumb

I'm not a huge sports fan.  In fact, sometimes I think the world would be a better place without professional sports.  But that could be because I have the coordination of an amoeba.  (That is probably insulting to amoebas.  I'm sorry, amoebas.)  While I can appreciate the technical difficulty of hitting a ball a bunch of times or running really fast or jumping really high, doing it competitively isn't something that resonates with me.

I do make an exception, though.  Olympic figure skating is a sport that I will make time to watch.  I am fascinated with the performance and how it is tied to music, and few things make me happier than watching a good skate set to fun music.

My husband and daughter love to watch the skating as well, so we set aside time every night for several nights to watch all of the figure skating events during this year's Olympics.  We were collectively excited to see the successes, we gasped at the falls, and we tapped our toes to the music.  My daughter even "performed" along with the skaters, doing her own spins and leaps next to the TV.

The one thing I noticed, though, was that most of the skaters seemed to struggle with one or more parts of their programs.  There were a surprising number of falls among the elite athletes, and it was hard to watch how disappointed some of them were as they judged themselves more harshly than any official judge and certainly more harshly than I did.

But there was one skater who stood out to me.  His name is Jason Brown and he skates for the U.S.  I realized that watching him skate just made me happy.  I was quite literally smiling at the end of his performance.  His face had been joyful during his skating and he was radiant as he walked off the ice.

Yet there was no chance he would get a medal.  And he knew that going into the Olympics.  You see, he didn't include any of the quadruple jumps that have become an unwritten requirement for earning a medal.  The announcers helpfully pointed that out several times.  They also commented on what a beautiful skater he is and how his artistry on the ice is almost unmatched.  Also, his skating was almost error-free.

In the end, he earned a sixth place finish, and he seemed absolutely delighted.  There was no crying, no falling to the ground in despair, no complaining about how the scoring is skewed toward technical difficulty instead of the artistry that he is so good at, basically none of the other behavior that I was stunned to see in multiple events across disciplines in the world's best athletes at the world's most famous games.  Mr. Brown was so excited to be at the Olympics and skating for his country and that was enough.

If you read about his history or watch interviews with him, you can see that his joy seems to be authentic.  He works hard and has overcome challenges, but he truly loves to skate and perform.

Watching Mr. Brown skate and thinking about the way it made me feel sent me down a rabbit hole of reflection.  I remembered how riding and being with horses used to make me feel when I was a kid.  

When I was my daughter's age, I stayed at my grandma's house for a month every summer.  She had a farm, and even more importantly, she had Skip.  Skip was a 16-hand Quarter Horse that I fell in love with.  When he wasn't being ridden or helping work cattle, he spent his time in a huge pasture - maybe 100 acres.  In the heat of the summer days, I would set out on foot from the house and walk the pasture until I found him, solely for the purpose of standing next to him and breathing in his scent.  To this day, I have never found a horse that smells better than Skip.  He smelled like skin and sweat and sun and outside.  When I rode him all over the countryside (by myself!), I finally felt right with the world and I loved every minute of it.  

Of course, I didn't know much about horse care or riding back then.  As time went on, my parents finally relented and got me a horse of my own.  Over the years, I've owned seven horses and had the opportunity to ride many others.  And I learned a lot more about horses.  

But after watching Mr. Brown skate, it occurred to me that as I've gained knowledge, I've lost a lot of the joy I originally felt.  I don't remember the last time I walked through 90-degree heat with the sun beating on me just to smell a horse because the draw was so powerful, I was helpless to resist.  When I'm constantly thinking about what to feed or whether to blanket or how to trim hooves or what training technique to use, there isn't much room for joy.

Certainly, I know the feeling of working on a particular movement for weeks and months and even years and finally achieving it for three seconds before it fades away.  But why should I be content with three seconds of joy every few months?

As the poet Mary Oliver writes:

Don't Hesitate 

If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy,
don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty
of lives and whole towns destroyed or about
to be. We are not wise, and not very often
kind. And much can never be redeemed.
Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this
is its way of fighting back, that sometimes
something happens better than all the riches
or power in the world. It could be anything,
but very likely you notice it in the instant
when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case.
Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid
of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.

So I'll be honest.  I have always thought that joy was a crumb.  I thought that life is full of challenges and you work through them the best you can and every once in awhile, you get some happiness as a reward.

But after reading Ms. Oliver's poem and watching Jason Brown skate, I realized that I need to do a rethink on that one.  And that's exactly what I've been doing.  It's hard to change a pattern of thinking and behavior, but I'm working on it a little at a time.  I want the joy of being with horses back.  I want to breathe them in and love being in their presence even if the sun is beating on me.  (It may be slightly harder to experience joy when being bitten by Virginia's excessive insect population, but I'll work on that when the time comes...)

I've taken two steps in my effort to bring back the joy.  The first is that I wear a bracelet with the words etched into the leather so I get a constant reminder.  The second is that I've tried to be more mindful when I'm working with horses.  Donut is handling being tied for a bit longer now, and when I brush her, I focus on being aware of her and on enjoying being with her instead being as efficient as possible.  As I introduce putting on her headstall, I try to feel her body and any tension that she has and let time stop while I let her think through what I'm asking.  When I ride Star, I have given myself permission to feel her underneath me rather than trying to tell her how to move all the time.  And when I lunge Freya, I try to focus less on how she is moving and more on her connection with me on the lunge line.

The interesting thing is that from a technical standpoint, I'm not making huge gains.  No one watches me with Donut and admires how quickly I get her to accept having a headstall put on (because after several days, she still thinks the headstall is possibly some kind of horse-eating alien despite the fact that she is easily haltered by any idiot).  No one watches me ride Star and tells me how amazing we look (because we simply walk, trot, and canter without falling down).  And no one watches me lunge Freya and is impressed with her lofty and articulated trot strides (because her trot mostly resembles a western pleasure horse).

But I have noticed a change in my mental state.  When I'm not constantly facing an internal dialogue of what I need to be doing to do better, I can feel more from the horse.  And I'm not as worried about problems.  Because seriously, why does it matter if it takes Donut a month to learn how to wear a headstall instead of 20 minutes?  And if Star never competes in 2nd Level dressage, well, I suspect it won't matter to her at all.  And if it takes Freya several months instead of several weeks to learn how to improve her trot on the lunge, what is the big deal?  She's been moving like a western pleasure horse for 8 years, it's probably not going to kill her to move that way for another few months.

In my quest to do better for the horse, I think I lost sight of the horse.  I've spent so much time and money educating myself and trying to make my interactions with horses better.  Taking lessons, reading books, watching videos, attending clinics.  And all of that is valuable.  And I'm certain my horses appreciate better care and better skill from their handler.  But it's time to focus on something different.  I need to be less interested in approval from my instructor or my barn owner or a judge or my horse friends and more interested in approval from my horse.  And I want to rekindle the joy I felt as I child.

This kind of effort is a game-changer, I think.  I'm not quite sure how it will work out, but the idea that joy could be a significant part of my time with horses instead of a blip on the radar screen is so appealing that I can't stop thinking about it.  The great thing is that I have a wonderful role model in my daughter, who loves every minute she spends at the barn and with horses, so if I lose my way, I can look at her and get my bearings again.

Gemma and Star.  Photo by CarlyGPhotography.

Donut Update

Before I wrote my last post, I had planned to write an update on how Donut was doing.  The events of that day eclipsed the mundane details I was going to write, so I decided to delay my post on Donut's more boring life:)

She has basically been living the good life for the past few months.  She is out 24/7 and only comes in to the barn when I bring her in, about three times a week.  I haven't been doing a whole lot with her, because I've been supporting Gemma's efforts with Freya and Star, but also because there really wasn't much of a reason to get too intense.

However, as Donut approaches her third birthday, the time is coming where I want to acclimate her to more serious work.  Normally, I bring her in to her stall for her to eat dinner and some alfalfa hay, and I brush her and pick out her feet and sometimes trim them.  Donut is pretty compliant about most things when she's eating, so it is an easy 10-15 minutes of interaction, and then I turn her back out.

My plan is to start Donut doing some in-hand work in April this year.  I will probably also add some lungeing and ground driving.  I don't plan to do any under saddle work with her until she is four, but I will do things like have her start working in a bridle with a bit and wear a saddle at least some of the time.  I may even sit on her and practice having her stand at the mounting block while I get on.  I'll just see how it goes.

When I trained Nimo, I didn't know about in-hand work, so I didn't use it, but I did do a lot of lungeing and a little ground driving for about a year before I started him under saddle, and I think it really paid off.  When I finally got on, it was a nonevent.  Which is what I would like for Donut too.  (Also, I am older now, and would very much like to avoid any theatrics that result in me landing on the ground.)

But before I can get to the point where I'm introducing a bridle and saddle and all sorts of other new things, I wanted to work with Donut on standing while tied.  Nimo came to me already knowing how to be in cross ties and that is the predominant method of tying in this area.  At the barns that I boarded Nimo at, cross-tying was the best way to groom and tack up a horse.  I didn't work on regularly tying him until I started hauling him to shows and tying him to a trailer.  It was never a big deal, though, and it didn't take long before he was pretty trustworthy.

At the barn I'm at now, though, there aren't a lot of good places to either cross tie or tie regularly.  There is a wash stall in the barn that has a set up for both cross ties and regular tying, but it is in almost constant use and people are always going in out with feed buckets and other stuff that they want to rinse out.  So it isn't the best place for me to use to teach Donut how to tie because of the lack of consistency and the activity level.  Once she knows, then it will be good to use the distractions as a way to reinforce the behavior.  And tying in front of the stall is problematic because there is stuff there, like blankets and halters and a tack trunk and hay.  So Donut is going to be in all that stuff.  The aisle is out of the question too because it is huge.  Instead of a normal 12-foot span, it is 24 feet, making cross-tying impossible.  (Some people at the barn actually have horses that ground tie in the aisle.  We actually do that with Freya and Star a lot of the time, but ground-tying is later on my list of things to do.)

The one option I have is to actually tie in the stall, (which in hind sight turns out to be a good thing).  So that is what I've been doing for the past six weeks.  I bring her in and let her eat her dinner and some alfalfa while I do my usual routine of some grooming and work with her feet, but I save something for later.  After she is done eating, I move her to the other side of the stall and tie her while I do whatever the thing is that I have left.  Sometimes it is picking out her feet.  Other times, it is some brushing.  I also make sure to include lots of good scratches and petting.

When I first started doing it, I didn't actually tie the rope.  I just looped it through the post I was tying around so there was tension, but if she got scared and pulled back, the rope would slide.  That worked for a couple of times, until she figured it out and would set herself free in about 30 seconds.  (Smart horses are sometimes a pain in the butt...eye roll.)  So then I held the end of the rope so she couldn't pull it out and let her get into trouble.  I let her get her head under the rope so there was pressure on her poll, and then I asked her to lower her head to get out of it.  I let her back up or move to the side so much that the rope was tight and then I would ask her to move to release the pressure.  Once I felt comfortable that she understood the rules, so to speak, of being tied, I actually tied a knot in the rope.  

I don't leave her unattended at this point, but I do go in and out of the stall, so she learns that she needs to stay with the rope and not with me.  I also move around her whole body and while I don't expect her to stand perfectly still, I do expect that she doesn't move in such a way that she is crowding me.  So if she moves toward me at any point, I push her back over.

I keep the sessions very short.  I started out just doing about a minute at a time, and now we are probably closer to five minutes.  I don't do anything that she doesn't already feel comfortable with, and I try to do some things that I know she really likes.  I don't want her to associate being tied with bad stuff happening to her.  Of course, at some point, less comfortable stuff will happen, like clipping or bathing, but my goal is to create a solid foundation before I start introducing new stuff.

I know lots of people will use something called a Patience Pole to introduce young horses to being tied.  And we do have a pole at the barn outside that could be used for that.  My understanding is that the method involves tying the horse by itself to the pole and leaving them there for a couple of hours or however long it takes for the horse to realize that they are stuck there, so they might as well settle down and stand quietly.  But I have to admit that that method doesn't resonate with me. I don't like the idea that the horse is left alone with no food and water and that it could feel trapped into compliance.  (Obviously, this method could be modified to leave a haybag for the horse and keep buddies tied nearby, but again, I don't have access to a set-up for that.)

One variation that I have seen that I like better involves tying several horses together along a fence line.  The horses are spaced so that they are close, but not so close that they can kick or bite each other.  Each one gets a hay bag and they are standing so that they can see the arena where the trainer works the horses.  This method lets horses be together with their friends and have something to do.  They can also watch training sessions, and for horses that learn by watching (I've known more than one that does!), that could be invaluable for helping them in their training.  The problem with this method for me is that I don't have a place where I could tie several horses together (because I could totally use Freya and Star to help Donut).

I will likely use a variation of this method, though, for tying at the trailer.  There is a good space at the barn where I could park the truck and trailer out of the way, but where the horses can still see things, and I can tie Freya and Star with Donut to keep her company.  So once Donut starts being able to stand comfortably in her stall for 15-20 minutes at a time, I'll probably add in the trailer tying.

The thing I like so far about tying Donut in her stall is that it is a place that she is already very comfortable in.  And I'm only doing things with her that she knows.  And I'm keeping it short.  So there is only one new variable - being tied.  I think Warwick Schiller is the trainer I've heard say that the goal should be to introduce only one new variable at a time to make it more likely that the horse will not be too stressed and you'll have a positive outcome.  I really like that way of approaching training.  Sometimes it isn't possible and of course, things happen that can't be controlled.  But whenever possible, I'm trying to take that approach with Donut.

Another benefit of being tied is that the horse does learn that their life is not totally their own.  I think that is an important thing for young horses to learn, but it can be a harder lesson for some of them.  Donut is definitely a horse who likes to do her own thing.  She enjoys being around people and watching things and doing things, but more on her terms.  So standing still for any length of time when she really wants to be moving is very hard for her.  Which is why I'm super pleased with how she is doing with being tied.  There has been zero drama, even the first time she hit the end of the rope and couldn't move more.  I could see the momentary frustration she felt, but she didn't act out or pull back or kick.  She waited.  So I think that is a good sign that she is ready to slowly proceed to doing more work that involves a human-initiated thing instead of whatever she feels like doing.

 

But I don't think methods that involve wearing a horse down or trapping them are going to be a good fit for either me or her.  I like the more gradual approach, and I'm lucky that I have all the time in the world.  I know that isn't true for everyone, and I get that sometimes time matters.  Certainly for professionals who are either being paid to put a horse under saddle or training horses to sell, time is money, and very few horses actually sell for a price that reflects all the time and resources that are put into them.  They would be unaffordable for lots of people.  

For example, if I sold Donut as a four year old trained to walk, trot, and canter under saddle, I would have to charge about $32,000 to recoup what I put into her.  Yes, you read that right.  Here's how I calculated the amount (assuming I've had her for three years):

    Board = 12 * $425 = $5,100 * 3 = $15,300

    Hoof trimming = 10 * 40 = $400 * 3 = $1,200

    Medical care (vaccinations, check-ups, deworming) = $300 * 3 = $900

    Supplements = 12 * 50 = $600 * 3 = $1,800

    Training Year 1 = 78 hours (30 min. 3x/wk) * $20 (a pittance for time) = $1,560

    Training Year 2 = 78 * $20 = $1,560

    Training Year 3 = 260 (1 hr 5x/wk) * $40 (cheapest rate I've seen for trainers to ride your horse in this area) = $10,400

So that adds up to $32,720.  Note that these are prices for the area I live in.  Other parts of the country are cheaper, I'm sure.  And I've made some assumptions about how much time is spent with the horse and what they are getting for care.  But I think I'm in the ball park.  And it shows just how much value is put into bringing a young horse into under saddle work.  And none of that amount takes into account bloodlines or athletic ability.

I think I got a little off-topic here, but it is something I try to remember when I see how quickly a lot of young horses are put under saddle.  Many trainers will take a lightly handled three year old and have them trained to walk, trot, and canter in just a few weeks.  But they are usually skipping or rushing steps.  Often that training doesn't include any ground work at all.  In this area, full training board starts at about $1,200 a month and goes well above $2,000 a month for the nicer facilities and higher level trainers.  It's something to think about if you are interested in buying a young horse versus an older horse, especially if you have to hire a professional to help, which you definitely should do if you don't feel comfortable doing it yourself.  Even though I do most of the work with Donut myself, I still have check-ins with my regular instructor and will have regular lessons with her once she starts in-hand work to make sure I'm staying on track and to trouble-shoot any problems that come up.

Anyway, hopefully the work with Donut continues to be no big deal for her, and within a couple of months, I can start to introduce a bridle with a bit!