Hope Horsemanship

Tag: failure

  • Life in Transition

    Life in Transition

    Have You Ever Felt Bone Tired?

    Recently I’ve noticed that my body seems to be struggling to keep up with me. I hear this echo reminder: the body keeps the score. I haven’t read that book, but it’s been recommended to me a few times. Maybe I should…

    I have learned not to ignore the subtle things, and this week I sat with the question—what is it? My joints get stiff; I have these weaknesses in my hip or shoulder that come and go… I’m getting older each year, and I had a pretty bad case of Lyme’s in 2024, so that can’t be discounted as a factor. The spirit is willing, but some days when I get up in the morning, it seems the flesh is weak.

    As I journaled and allowed myself to take stock of what is going on, I thought about how draining transitions are on us. I am definitely in a transition—in fact, I’m at the edge of the transition cliff this month, and as I get closer to the edge, the stress and fears are becoming more real each day. I sometimes get that feeling through my whole body—that tingling feeling when you’re too close to the edge and you look down…

    You step back and say: It’s okay, I’m not going to fling myself over. I am safe here.

    Only, actually, I am about to fling myself over.

    I have never felt the need to bungee jump or parachute out of a perfectly good plane. The turbulence that drops you (safely seat-belted in) without notice, makes me queasy. I’ve been told there are only two fears we are born with: the fear of loud noises and the fear of falling. This thing feels incredibly primal when it shudders through my system as I lay in the safety of my bed.

    As I considered this transition period, I realized I’ve probably been in some form of transition since 2019, but with a few seasons of stability in different areas of my life, I think moving to the rural mountains of Virginia in 2007 was the first real cliff dive that sent me into a way of life that has been constantly calling me to new growth and uncomfortable expansion. Looking back, there were numerous times I was pretty sure I wouldn’t “make it,” and yet each time, there I landed, in a better place than I left.

    As I considered this, it occurred to me that transitions are the most meaty and challenging places, and they define our lives, the excellence, and how far we can go. Just yesterday I heard in an interview: The scope of your life will likely be determined by how much pain you can tolerate.

    He was talking about how risky and painful expansion and growth can be. Those who can tolerate the pain that comes with being willing to press into places we cannot be certain of are more likely to expand their reach and see internal growth than those who have to stay in their comfort zone. Also I do not discount the reality that sometimes we are forced into transitions we did not volunteer for. Peoples lives are shifted through unwanted divorce, unexpected job loss, medical trauma, accidents and the like. That reminded me of a series I listened to on repeat, taking notes, by Tony Stoltfus years back, on going through transitions well—and how important the transition is to how the next season will be once we arrive.

    In fact, I believe the transitions are the most valuable material and show the strength or weakness in the structure, and this is where I circle back to my horsemanship.

    I spent a week with Harry Whitney and friends in Floyd, VA, a couple weeks ago, and in a few lessons he talked about the value of frequent transitions. Once we are established in a pattern, solid training and autopilot can take over, and we can look (artificially) pretty good. The part that reveals what is really going on under the surface, is in making a change together.

    Honor, Jaime and Harry Whitney

    Change in direction and change in speed are the most common with a horse—but these always require (if done well) a change of thought. How quickly and how completely can we get into the change? How available is the horse to our input that we should make a change? The way in which the horse goes from halt to walk, or walk to halt, can tell a lot about the quality of the connection.

    Humans have gotten adept at finding ways to make the body of the horse comply. We have the tools: reins and double reins; bits and stronger bits; martingales and nosebands; chains and cavessons when we need them. No matter how good we are at forcing the horse to physically take on a transition, their body tells the score if you look.

    “Get better at seeing the motions that go along with the emotions,” Harry would say. 

    Once you see how the tension shows itself, you won’t be able to unsee it. The first level of unwanted tension from a horse in physical compliance without a mental change is a head raising. I have seen this from a subtle lift to a full-on head fling that could take out a rider if not wearing a helmet. Even if you fix this with a tie-down, the brace shows up in the muscles and the hollow frame still exists under the surface. Tension kills. Bracing against the work we are doing creates damage internally and externally. I have actually seen horses (multiple times) exhibit intermittent lameness of various degrees that no veterinarian or farrier could explain or heal come right after working in a round pen with Harry, whose first concern is to remove the tension that comes from the mind and body out of alignment. Not only have I seen it, I went through it with Khaleesi a few years ago, and getting her to think “forward” instead of being physically driven forward cleared out the uneven lameness I’d been worrying over. It will show up on occasion—always when she does not want to go forward (especially the last loop of an endurance ride from camp)—and if I get her mind lined out, the off-step lameness gait dissolves completely. Every time.

    There are transitions all over our horse lives. Removing my horse from the pasture with her friends is a transition. Being groomed and tacked for an activity is a transition. Going from the ground to the saddle is a transition. How much attention do you pay to these steps? Does your horse fling up his head when you approach with a halter? Do you have to trick your horse into being caught with cookies or trapping him in a stall for breakfast? Do you use cross-ties to groom? Have you ever had someone hold your horse for you while you mount? Some of the ways we mitigate the weakness in these places are not bad if they are a temporary measure in place while the weakness is addressed so the horse can come fully on board, but they do reveal when something is broken in the connection.

    Leaving friends or the barn for a trail ride is a transition, changing gaits in the arena… changing direction, lines, and circles in an arena… These are all places we can find out: how available is the horse to us?

    I have found the first place to start, is to notice: whenever you stop your horse, does the head elevate? If so, you have tension in the transition and mental/physical disagreement—however slight. It is a weakness. Another place is going up a gait—when you ask your horse from walk to trot, do they pop themselves up into the trot with a hop in the front end? Or is it a smooth lift of the entire body driven from the hind?

    Most horses exhibit some of these tensions. Perfection is rare—but the truth, if we are willing to see it, will set us free. Noticing is the first step! Doing more frequent transitions until the resistance dissolves will bring more availability, relaxation, and connection. I have never seen someone address these transition issues and not get some shifts from the attempt. We first must have eyes to see, then we can begin to ask how we can make this better.

    Screenshot

    The best news is that focusing on the transition places makes a big difference in the whole picture. This is where greatness is gained or lost. Adjust the connection in the transition, and the connection in the execution of the whole is raised every time.

    I think it’s like this in life too. The transition spaces are harder to stay connected. Self-protection stemming from fear disconnects us from each other, ourselves, and God. When we disconnect, we harden and brace, preparing for the worst and feeling alone in our survival. For me, it can be easy to barrel onward, knowing what I have to do and bracing for the trouble I perceive ahead. I force myself onward because I know it’s what I must do. When walking through hell, keep walking! (I am far from walking through hell, but the point is related.)

    The fact that I’ve noticed I feel increasingly sore, exhausted, and with more on my mind that keeps me from interacting fully present with those around me is a signal to slow down and breathe. To reconnect first internally with myself: What is going on, and how do I feel about it? What am I most afraid of today?

    When I expose the truth of what I believe in the transition, and what is bringing the tension and stress, I can reconnect with others too. I might need to share my fears with trusted friends who can remind me I’m not alone and remind me of the truth of who I am. This truth is always greater than the perceived truth the fear plants. For me, I need to slow down to hear what God has to say about this season as well. I hear him in the ancient writings, in things highlighted in the nature around me, I hear him in a word of encouragement from a friend that hits deeper than usual, sometimes in a dream, or an idea or image that comes to me as if completely from outside my own thoughts. We all hear voices! It’s just easier to accept the voice that says: You’ll never make it. You’re going to die here. Why would you ever risk it? You’re not good enough.

    It is much harder to align with the voice of love that says: You are going to be okay! Relax and have peace even in the unknown—I promise to guide you through. No matter what happens, you’ll grow and learn—and you’re never alone! You can do it. Look how many times you thought you might fall and instead you flew! You can fly again!

    I suppose if the parallel returns to the horsemanship—it’s my job when I notice the tension to slow down and remind her: You can do this! We are in it together, and you can trust me. Relax into my guidance and trust that when we do it together, it will feel so much better! You can have peace right here, with me! Trust me.

    I know many people argue we don’t have time for that. But I choose not to believe in scarcity whenever I notice it creeping in. When we submit to the Kronos of the time clock and we believe that the scarcity of seconds, minutes, hours and days rule our lives, it always creates stress and tension and anxiety. When I enter into that transition space as a timeless product of Kairos time, everything expands and I have peace. What is more important than staying present in the moment, in the truth, and smoothing out the rough edges?

    Screenshot

    Yes, especially in the beginning, it takes time away from whatever agenda I have set. I have the choice before me to hurry in tension and disconnection to force something in order to check a box and get a thing accomplished, or I can step into eternity for a moment and reconnect, guide, and become a real leader that my horse will increasingly trust and depend on. The process is slower early on, but creates something of magical excellence along the years that is the thing I crave more than the buckle, the ribbon, or the record. It is more real than anything else I could produce, and it lasts longer too.

    For me, it is worth it.

  • I’ve Never Had a Connection Like That Before…

    I’ve Never Had a Connection Like That Before…

    This is something I have begun to take for granted.

    Jaime taking input from Tom – after a few minutes of giving Wyoming time to make the choice to accept the side pull at liberty. She is trying, but you can see some tension in her neck and she has some concerns lingering

    Connection has become a buzz word in the horse community, but looking at all the interviews and taglines that use the word, I wonder: what exactly are we all talking about? I don’t think we all mean the same thing when we talk about connection. I can’t be totally sure though because as I waited for it through even hour long podcasts… I have never yet heard it defined. 

    This brought me to consider what do I think it means?

    To me, connection with a horse is when the horse is present in the moment in the physical space with me both in mind and body. The horse is available, responsive, and willing to try when I ask something — regardless if the request is known or new. With connection there is a calm mind, relaxed body, and sense of peace between us. 

    Connection is not 100% on or off, at least not in my experience. It is a place we find with increasing regularity as I honor the freedom of the horse and convince the horse through experience that I am a safe place to be available for connection.  This means I cannot use force or punishment to get something done. This trust is established through clarity, timing, and patience. The higher level of these skills a human carries, the quicker the trust is established. Horses have a range of natural tendencies and while some horses demand close to perfection from a handler to relinquish their own plans, some horses are pretty forgiving of bad timing, poor clarity, and other mistakes that introduce various levels of confusion or negate feel to the process. 

    Jaime looking to re-establish connection with Wyoming as her mind went elsewhere

    There have been years I thought I had connection with Khaleesi. She was the horse I started with the only tools I had at the time which were basically (for lack of better language) Natural horsemanship which I define generally as a horse training method built on the concepts of increasing and driving pressure. *Your definition of Natural Horsemanship may differ, but in this article I’ll give mine for clarity*

    Direct, driving pressure and the punishment factor of increasing pressure until a response comes… well, it works. I was thrilled with how well it went as I used this approach to start four-year-old Khaleesi. I look back now and see I equated obedience and timely response to connection. Some people equate close proximity to connection. Some people have told me grooming a horse is a point of connection. Some people equate solid training to connection. *Grooming a horse, or having the horse respond in a timely way etc of course can be done in connection, but it can also be without connection, therefore they are not evidence of connection.*

    Ilana Starkey working to establish connection with Mia who began present in body but not in mind due to the worry over being separated from her pasture mate Mia

    Though I don’t think it’s useful to anthropomorphize horses, I have found parallel examples in good relationships across the board that help my understanding and adjust my approach. I have experienced being at the same table as another person and yet be completely disconnected from them. I have been in a conversation with someone- even someone I like and have a relationship to – and been actively disconnecting from them, especially if the conversation feels intended to control or manipulate me. 

    I have seen examples of controlling parents whose children grow into very obedient, good kids and also clearly have little meaningful connection to their parents. Unfortunately I think many parents of the ideal obedient kids confuse good behavior and wanting to please with actual connection. I have seen this between horses and humans too. The more I’ve observed about connection the more amazed I am when a good connection is in place, and I’ve realized it is unfortunately rare both in human-human relationships and human-horse ones. 

    Real connection has to have choice, and cannot exist when there is fear of punishment. In humans or horses. The challenge I find is how fine the line can be separating consequences and boundaries from punishment, and indirect pressure from direct pressure. One way I discern in myself how I’m doing, is the concept that we only get two motivation choices in life: fear and love. Punishment and control comes from fear, consequences and true boundaries are rooted in love and have the primary goal of reconnecting when the connection is lost.

    Here Mia makes a choice to give Ilana a try. For a moment she is present and connected.

    Disconnection is painful and stressful within ourselves, the people around us, and with our horses. Unfortunately most of us have learned to live in that as a way of life- look at all the anxiety and stress we endure day to day. 

    This leads me to the number one factor I have found in getting better connection: above all things, do not fear — seek the truth.

    I write all of my blog posts from personal experience with the hope someone else might find it relatable and encouraging. If you experience this, you are not alone. I am getting better at accepting the bald faced truth as the years go on. In years past, I couldn’t always face the harsh reality and what it revealed about my shortcomings. I knew where I wanted to be and found myself looking for any tiny piece of evidence that I had already arrived, and built an alternate reality I preferred around those scraps.

    Today I know that the opposite has been more life changing: I look for all the places where things are not what I hope for, and I dig deeper to find out why and how to clean them up and grow. In those former seasons I can see I had less confidence that the direction I was walking would ever actually bring me to the place I believed it would, and I realize I had too much of my identity wrapped up in this hope being truth. If it didn’t pan out… surely everything would fall apart around me.

    Of course no one else out there reading this has probably ever realized they have way too much of their own identity wrapped up in something around a horse… the performance, success, good behavior, approval from others, ability to achieve a goal, etc. I’m sure that’s only me.

    Over time I learned the truth always sets me free and I don’t have the be afraid of it. There is no failure, only learning. Ironically, operating under the fear of failure and fear of what could really be happening, kept me from the connection I desired most. Fear always destroys connection, within human and horse relationships. I doubt I’m alone in noticing there is a LOT of fear between horses and humans- on all sides of the conversation.

    There is no failure- only learning

    That being said, for at least three years now, my understanding of connection has been the goal of all my work sessions with any horse. Ideally above anything other goal. I still miss the point sometimes and get distracted by achieving something especially if we are so close. Still, increasingly, my horses have begun to experience this approach as a way of life. 

    I’ve begun to take it for granted.

    Jaime waiting patiently for Wyoming to “come through” on a request by the reins to step her hind over. Giving the mare the time she needs to think and process and respond without increase in pressure or driving her around will build stronger trust and connection.

    Then something came to light last weekend during a clinic with Tom Moates here at Hope Horsemanship. I invited a teenage girl who has an unusual drive to go deeper with her horse journey, to work with Khaleesi. She had never been here before, and never met K. Her horse experience has been riding horses in multiple training barns in her home area mostly in eventing and jumping disciplines, as well as a few endurance rides. She does not currently have her own horse.

    We brought K to her in the arena and handed over the lead rope. This brave young girl stood in front of strangers having never met this horse, and never having worked with a horse in the manner we have been learning, and waited for some guidance of what to do.

    Tom walked her through some basic activities and she tried to execute the concepts with this stranger in front of her with four legs and a tail. She picked up the concepts quickly and did her best to go through some simple tasks. Sometimes she was coordinated with good timing and the clarity was rewarded with a beautiful execution. Sometimes she was slightly off, a bit clunky with the request and not as clear. These had less than ideal results. Regardless, K was available to the two legged stranger holding the lead rope and stayed clearly connected to her as they worked. 

    What I noticed as they worked together, was the connection I had been building in the horse was actually available to a stranger, as long as she approached the relationship in good faith and a similar mindset. It was not about the right buttons of a well trained horse. 

    The girl was attempting to ask K to walk a circle around her and could have accomplished that significantly faster by pushing Khaleesi’s nose out and driving her hind end with a rope tail. Walking a circle however was not the goal. The true goal was learning how to direct the horse’s thought, and how to do a thing together without creating disconnection. Driving the horse with pressure at the hind end, which engages the natural flight mode of the horse, which is in the sympathetic nervous system, which brings up adrenaline and worry, would have weakened the connection they had established. 

    I think about the times when someone used manipulation or threat to engage me in an activity. I can think of experiences where this was done subtly, in nice tones, or even making it sound like it’s a good deal for me. I still feel the intent behind it and though I may decide to comply because it’s probably in my best interest, I don’t feel great about the relationship. Even at a low level, I know when I’m being threatened or manipulated. Horses do too. Driving the horse, EVEN IF it only took a small amount of pressure, comes with a different feeling from the horse. This quick response looks more impressive to an undiscerning audience. The ego likes a quick response, even at the cost of the connection.

    The pair did magnificently, though the session was slightly boring to an onlooker, and I wondered if it may have been boring to a teenager. We often joke that good horsemanship is about as exciting as watching paint dry.  The girl had a really beautiful session and clearly Khaleesi was relaxed and connected to her through the entire hour. Curious to know the truth of how she felt about the potentially boring work, I asked her directly later in the day. I was pleased and a little surprised as she bubbled over with joy. Her words were:

    “I loved it! I’ve never felt what it was like to have that kind of real connection with a horse before.”

    The girl was not short on various experiences with many horses. She had ridden multiple horses in various disciplines over years already, enjoyed grooming time with some, spent quiet time in pasture with domestic herds, had to count on an equine partner to navigate jumps and ride 25 and 50 mile endurance rides, and it was this horse she only had just met once where she saw a new potential in what was possible.

    I was particularly pleased to see the long term shift in my own approach to my horses created an availability for connection that transferred to a stranger- even one “uneducated” to my way of working. I was reminded not to take that beautiful truth for granted. This kind of real connection is an amazing gift, between humans, but even more between humans and animals. I think it’s what we are wired for and desire above all else.

    Tom working to help Breeze let down his tension and concerns, to connect in softness, and be guided around the barrels

    All around us, when true connection eludes us, we still deeply desire it. This brings confusion and displacement. We will settle for a poor substitute trying to convince ourselves it’s the real thing: obedience, control, achievement, positive outcomes at any cost. I have been guilty of mistaking those things for connection or trying to find connection with those around me through them. In this model, it’s like the horse has to “disappear” for our demands, and if they comply we think all is well. 

    There is an opposite swing equally problematic. In trying to fix my tendency to force things to happen, I swung through phases of letting my horse lead too much of the relationship. I spent time only listening to the horse, and accepting all of their input without showing up to question, lead, or direct. When I was in that mode, I “disappeared” and didn’t show up authentically to participate in the connection. Horses are desperately seeking good leadership. Over time in this mode, I see horses become harder and harder to interact with and manage. It’s confusing I believe when we “show up” physically but don’t “show up” in a meaningful way. When we pull horses into a human world and put them in our care, we owe it to them to lead and direct them in a way that honors them and is not afraid of meeting them in the connection with our own honest best. 

    The entire process begins when we are honest about our fears and face them. Fear isn’t bad or good- it is an indicator. If you are afraid of your horse, be real about it. There is a reason and there is a path forward. Maybe the horse has real issues that need higher level of experience to address in order to bring the anxiety level down to something more safe to work with. Sometimes our fears are that we will fail, and the horse ends up carrying all of that counterproductive weight. Sometimes the fears are completely unfounded and not based in reality, but in past experiences that never got cleaned up and dealt with.  Those past experiences have to be dealt with inside our own minds and hearts in order to show up fully in the present, available to connection with the horse in front of us. 

    Jaime & Wyoming in a good moment together, Wyoming is soft and relaxed and present both mentally and physically

    Fear can be valuable, and the truth sets us free. 

    This is the journey to connection. The great thing is, it’s available to everyone. The stronger we become in addressing fears, walking in freedom, and the confidence to love without fear, the more we have to offer those around us- horses and humans alike!

    The photos in this blog post are all courtesy of Christian Andrew (Christian Marsh Photography) who was visiting with us one day of the clinic. Christian is working on a book featuring Tom Moates. Stay tuned for more information on that project!

  • Behind the Scenes at HH: New Videos + Fall Clinic!

    Behind the Scenes at HH: New Videos + Fall Clinic!

    Hello friends,

    I’m experimenting with a few new things this fall as we move toward a new season next year—one that will bring some fresh HH activities and adventures.

    You, my subscribers, are truly my HH family, so I want to share some of these early tests with you first!

    One change I’m making is a shift in my YouTube channel. I’ll be adding a few different types of videos—ones that I hope will reach a wider audience and offer practical ideas for finding your own horsemanship path.

    The first few videos will focus on some of the core concepts that have shaped my work with horses over the past few years. I plan to follow those with example videos that show those ideas in action.

    To be honest, I don’t know yet how helpful this new approach will be—especially breaking the teaching into two parts (the concept and then the application). And of course, trying new things always comes with a learning curve! These early videos won’t be perfect in form or presentation.

    But as I was reminded yesterday, “perfect is the enemy of good.” Sometimes you just have to be willing to publish, learn, and grow as you go.

    So, thank you in advance for watching as these new videos roll out. If you find any of them helpful—or know someone who might—please share them! It really helps the channel. And if you have feedback or ideas, I’m all ears. There’s definitely plenty of room for growth.

    Finally, we’re getting ready for the last Tom Moates Roving Clinic of 2025, coming up November 7–8 in Warm Springs, VA. It’s always a fun weekend with a wide variety of horse work among friends.

    Participant spots are currently full, but I can put you on a waitlist if you’d like to bring a horse. There’s also lots of room for auditors, and it’s a great way to learn and be part of the experience.

    Hope to see you soon—and thanks, as always, for being part of this journey.

    Warmly,

    Jaime

    And here is the first of the new videos:

    Number one reason training doesn’t have staying power

  • Mind the Gap

    Mind the Gap

    Life around Hope Horsemanship after the Vermont trip has not slowed down much but it has changed tracks. Khaleesi has been on a work break due to a broken saddle and some trailer repairs that surfaced unexpectedly. These have take over a month to get sorted out and the saddle and trailer are both repaired and ready to go.

    Meanwhile I have gone back to the round pen, and made some nutritional adjustments for Khaleesi. I have had a harder time than usual keeping weight on her this season and through testing, found some mineral deficiencies that I’ve adjusted. I also took a step back to realize the severe drought we had in our area the last two years have meant finding quality hay was tough. Though I was thankful we always had hay to feed, I have noticed with this year’s new hay- now enjoying rain and sun – the quality is markedly better, and now going on two months of feeding it along with a month of supplementing missing nutrients, she is looking more like her old self again. 

    As for the round pen, it has been nice to take some time with what I consider my “oldest child,” the solid one I count on. I started Khaleesi as a four-year old with basic “natural horsemanship” that included a lot of drive/draw methods and today I am looking at how that worked out. Many would say it worked great. She is obedient and compliant to the task at hand, and I don’t have problems that are safety concerns. Because of this, I spend less time checking in with her and finding quality time to test our connection and relationship. Yet, what we have is significantly less than what I want with her. I hope for a willing connected relationship where we work together and the process does not cause her to shut down and “get it done” so she can go back to the rest of her happy life that does not include me.

    Khaleesi unsure I have anything to offer her…
    K lets down for a moment and finds peace with an imperfect human

    Khaleesi is a more independent and confident horse than Wyoming, and that is helpful, but also comes with a downside. Our history together has been my own growth journey, and for much of it I haven’t been the same leader I am today. In our history, I have not been the consistent leader she would look to for peace and protection.  She seems to think she’s covering that on her own most of the time. Like an oldest child who grew up with new parents trying to figure it out and doing their best…

    Today, however, I continue to deepen my understanding and experience. I am developing patience, clarity, and confidence, and these play into the leadership an independent mare can recognize. This break we had from so much riding and physical training opened some opportunity to reconnect in a better way.

    This brings me to the gap that Harry Whitney talks about. 

    (My best paraphrase follows): 

    Humans have the ability to learn not only by experience, but by observing or gaining understanding. This means we get a concept or see something is possible before we have the ability to do it ourselves in practice. This is a gap between what we want to do and what we can do. We experiment, and try, and grow, and we become more able to replicate what we want to see, and that’s good. However while this is happening, during the closing of the gap between what we envision and what we can accomplish, the understanding begins to creep up with new possibility and we push the bar farther out of what we want to do — always beyond what we are capable of. This is how we keep growing, and it’s a good thing. However, if you’re not careful, you’ll get discouraged because you know what you want to see and it isn’t what is happening. You need to find a way to remind yourself of where you’ve been, not only looking forward to where you want to be. There will always be a gap of where you are and where you want to be. That’s good. But remember where you’ve been and how far you’ve come or you can get really discouraged in this process.

    This reminder hit home once again on the last day of the Floyd Harry Whitney Clinic (hosted by Tom Moates). I can see that I am continually becoming a leader that Khaleesi can trust and let down increasing layers of protection built in during the early years when I was working in a driving mode. She can only find transformation through experience. I can’t tell her I’m trying to learn better ways. Well I do actually sometimes tell her… but she won’t know it until I carry those better ways consistently into our work together, and not fall back on the expedient things that get it done quicker, and driving a horse is expedient…

    Harry, Dory, Jaime & Kevin (From the Akhal-Teke Foundation) on the last day of clinic in Floyd, VA

    I am changing. Each year I am learning to operate differently and resting increasingly in the truth that I want the process over the product. Each year I care less about the speed of the outcome and more about the quality of it. I still have to apologize to my horse from time to time, but it’s less often. I believe the future of the relationship I am building with Khaleesi is going to be better than our past. Even as I keep seeing more growth available ahead of me.

    This gap doesn’t only exist in a horsemanship journey. It is real for all people in all things we take on in life. It’s true for hobbies, relationships, health, work and career, and personal growth. I am somehow programmed with a love for this gap and diving into the gap keeps me getting out of bed some mornings. Depending on the area of my life, it also makes me not want to get out of bed some mornings! But I actually love the gap because if we aren’t growing and increasing our capacity, what are we doing? 

    I have also come to see not everyone loves the gap. And I can see relationships gone sideways because I didn’t understand that at times- and have a little more compassion for those who find the gap exhausting and frustrating. I suppose finding this insight, even if it’s later in life, is also growth. I am grateful for the people who have been patient with me as I dive headlong into the gap year after year seeking to pursue the thing that will never be achieved this side of the grave. It takes a special kind of companion on the journey to swim in that stream and those who are either in the pace boat or swimming along, I say thank you! Regardless of how much I love the process, it cannot be done alone. 

    Wyoming is feeling better about working together each session

    Today the year is more than half over already and some of the big milestones have been hit or missed. As I look ahead I have some ideas to press into Khaleesi’s potential for next year and we plan to finish the 2025 season at the Fort Valley ride in October. My continued confidence in the process is bringing nice changes in the work with Wyoming, and I will continue to post up some work videos that include the good, the bad, and some of the ugly in our sessions. I am also enjoying the partnership with the Akhal-Teke Foundation and the horse I worked in the Harry Whitney Clinic this year was one of their young mares, Swan Ysk Doretmek (Dory). I was able to put on Dory’s first rides at the end of the clinic under Harry’s guidance, and I’m continuing the work with her back in Lexington. 

    First Ride on Dory under the guidance of Harry Whitney

    The Hope Horsemanship HQ continues to expand within the confines of our tiny horse farm footprint, and Matt is building a tiny rustic cabin that will offer housing for those who are looking to come onsite. We are building some experience frameworks for all ages of people with horses and people without them who want to see what transformation is available when we leave our fears and anxiety behind. 

    Matt and our nephew working on the Transformation Lodge foundation

    We hope to be onsite in the HHHQ the weekend of October 4-5 here in Bath County, VA for one of our fun and fabulous Tom Moates clinics if the spaces fill. We have openings for both horse participants and auditors for those who are swimming to gap and want to improve the quality of their horsemanship work alongside us! Contact Jaime@HopeHorsemanship.com to reserve a spot or get confirmation the clinic is happening for auditors.

    Tom Moates at a recent clinic explaining a concept to a participant in the round pen

    If you want to see the work with Wyoming, the YouTube channel is live, and the last three videos from a recent work session (before Harry’s clinic) is available here: Foundations Playlist

    Stay tuned, we’re always swimming the gap, and looking for others in the gap community to encourage and find connection with. Don’t forget to look back once in a while to remember just how far you’ve come. In the words of Ronnie Moyer: It’s direction, not perfection that counts!

  • Death and Resurrection

    Death and Resurrection

    Everyone dies… but not everyone really lives.

    William Wallace

    As I pondered an appropriate title for this recap I thought it fitting that, on the road to Vermont, my husband stopped to pick up a Garmin Fenix Smartwatch for me as a birthday gift. Next time I might ask if they have a model named: Garmin Victory Lap, or a Garmin Nailed-it…

    Pair of Garmin Fenix Watches

    The Vermont 100 starting line had an eight month lead up from conception to reality — if you don’t count the nine years it took us to crest the first 100 mile finish line in 2023. This was clearly the biggest overall investment in a goal over my decade engaging in equine endurance events. 

    As the event drew near, I realized the larger the investment, the more pressure to produce a favorable outcome builds. What is the point of doing this if it isn’t to ride over the finish line? Most of us know on some level this is not the whole truth. Still, it is a struggle for the goal driven to not only believe there is more to life than a favorable outcome, but to live (and ride) in the peace that larger reality brings.

    I have been binge listening to Jaime & Donna Winship interviews  this year and they have been transformational in my life. The insight and questions have challenged me to up my game when it comes to walking in the truth, and it’s meant being real about what I want to believe, what I know in my head, and what is being lived out in my actions – revealed by my emotional system. I have come to realize, that regardless of what knowledge I have accumulated, my emotional system tells on me, and if I slow down and address it, like it or not, I will find what I really believe, and what I’m actually afraid of.

    I thought the Vermont trip was a test of what my horse was made of, what I was capable of, and if we had what it took to take on an unknown 100 mile ride, and succeed by crossing the finish line. I was probably wrong. 

    As the departure neared it seemed like the resistance grew. Vehicle issues, dog fights, horses escaping in a storm, an entire massive batch of dog food is ruined (this was a huge problem actually!), then bad traffic on our first day of travel leaving us sitting in unseasonably hot temperatures for over an hour— which is not ideal for a horse on her way to a 100 mile event. Each disruption gave me pause and as I wondered “what is this about?” I always heard the nudge: Keep going, do the next step until you don’t have one.

    Shady grass yard for Khaleesi in PA

    I am grateful for the warm welcome from Matt’s family at our layover in PA. Khaleesi had a lovely shaded back yard with grass where I set up her temporary pen, and we enjoyed family time with eggplant and cheesecake!

    The second day of travel brought new territory for both of us as we continued onward and on my birthday we arrived in Vermont— through dark clouds and a rain storm that gave way to a cool evening and stunning colors in the sky. We set up camp alone in the area set aside for smaller trailers, near the start and finish line. This evening I will always remember as a moment of beauty and quiet as we had the entire field to ourselves and the glory of Vermont stretched out on all sides of us. 

    We had arrived.

    Ride camp Thursday evening after the storm

    We woke up to cool breezes and peeking out the tent we watched the grasses dance in the early light. It was sublime and Matt and I took a moment to take in the glory of the last moments of peace and calm we may have for a while. Check in and Vetting in was not available until Friday afternoon, so we puttered about with details, and found a delightful little market and cafe with home made bagels and much needed ice. Camp began to bustle through the day as 450 runners came and went to register for the foot race that would share the trail with us horse riders. When the time came, we checked in with the ride management, then took horse #109 (that’s Khaleesi) to the pre-ride vet inspection. 

    This is where things began to get disruptive again. K had a resting heart rate of 36BPM which is excellent, and her hydration and overall condition earned A scores. The head vet saw something slightly off in her trot out and asked us to try again. We did. He still thought something was questionable and asked us to trot a third time and included another vet to watch. Not enough to hinder us, but enough to plant a seed of doubt, they marked her card with a “B” and suggested I stay aware of the potential something might be off. 

    Checking out the starting line the day before the race.

    This is not what you want to hear the day before you embark on a single-day 100 mile endurance race. 

    I mulled over what it could mean. We visited the ride farrier, Howard, who became a new friend! Marcus had warned that her feet were getting soft from such a wet summer, and I wanted to have her nails clenched in case they were getting loose. Howard chatted with us freely in his Scottish lilt as he checked all four feet and added one nail for good measure in a weak spot. He was a positive and kind guy, and didn’t charge us for the time he spent checking the nails. He wished us the best and promised he’d keep his eye out for us through the day. 

    Still, I had concerns. 

    It clouded my evening. I was nervous. Do I go out with concerns? Once again I asked the question: what should I know, what do I do about it? And I sensed the reply so clearly: You do the next thing you know to do, until there is no next thing. 

    We spent some time looking up references for #109 and I held onto the words from Joshua 1:09 that reminded me to have courage and do not fear because God goes with you. Ok then. We show up to the starting line, and we go. We do the next thing until there isn’t a next thing to do.

    The runners leave at 4am, and what an experience that was! They line up and hundreds of headlamps jog under the starting line turning up the dirt lane past our camp site with cheers and cowbells. Khaleesi was beside herself with the experience! A line of cheering mass in the dark with headlamps bouncing to and fro. She had never seen anything like it. I had been warned of this and she was walking on lead with me when they departed and it took a moment to get her settled back down. 

    Before the start

    The trail opened for horses an hour later, and the eleven, 100-mile equine competitors left camp with my mind on the only problem I thought I was facing: would I end up with a lameness issue today? The trail is monstrously hilly from go. The exit from camp is significantly downhill on a gravel road. I had been walking Khaleesi around camp for 15 minutes, but she was not adequately warmed up for these hills and to make matters more concerning, her adrenaline was way up. Her head was in the air like a llama, and her trot felt like a jackhammer. If I had reason to be concerned she might hurt herself, the tension she was packing along with us trying to race at a high speed in the cool pre-dawn was not helping. 

    I unloaded all my tools to bring her mind back to the present and not run as if for her very survival with the other horses. I was mostly unsuccessful in getting her to relax into the work and had to negotiate with her the best I could. It is common for her to run faster in the morning and I work with her to find a good speed where she is moving freely and soft through her body. Considering the morning was cooler than it had been and her adrenaline was up- I now also worried about potential tie up. Tie up is somewhat mysterious, but the root is usually associated with a horse over running their ability through adrenaline and going into a metabolic state that can be dangerous. This is not something I have worried about with this horse previously, but something about this morning had her running on more adrenaline than I’ve seen. 

    It took almost 30 minutes to get a more relaxed mental state. We rode on this way for a few miles, now in last place, but I have been there many times and wasn’t concerned. She had leveled out, was trotting beautifully, strong, and relaxed.  We may cross the finish line last, but a finish was my goal. We had launched past the danger zone and were well on our way to the first checkpoint at mile 16. This was not a true vet hold, but a 10 minute pass through where the vet gave a quick look as you departed to make sure all systems appeared to be sound.

    It was about mile 13 when the unraveling began.

    Flying along with a beautiful balanced trot I was enjoying the early morning and greeting the runners we passed, when things went into slow motion. First I felt my left foot was not catch the stirrup bar. Then I realized I was coming off balance and wasn’t able to recover. I reached around Khaleesi’s neck and when it was clear I was going down, I swung myself around her neck and landed on the ground in front of her. She was aware something went wrong and when I landed at her feet she came to a stop above me. I remember my calves both going into a tension spasm, but otherwise I was perfectly fine and so was she. How embarrassing, I thought, and assured the runners who had witnessed the crash that I was totally fine. Next I saw my left stirrup and it’s leather on the ground and realized I hadn’t simply come unbalanced in a poor riding moment, the stirrup had come off the saddle. 

    My hope as I stood up, was the leather had simply worked its way off the bar it attaches to. The truth was worse. The metal bar itself had sheared off and there was nothing on the saddle to reattach the left stirrup.

    Broken metal stirrup bar

    I had not planned for this.

    In all the potential things that could go wrong. This was not one of the things I had even considered. 

    I began walking next to K, carrying the stirrup leather in hand and wondered: is this the end for us? Already only 13 miles in? Can we recover? 

    Again I heard the reminder: do what comes next, until you cannot make another move. Do the next thing. Keep moving.

    Service in this area of Vermont is notoriously horrible, but miraculously both Matt (already waiting at the checkpoint) and I (three miles out) had service. The only thing I could think was to try my alternate saddle. However, there were issues:

    • 1) the saddle was in the horse trailer at ride camp. Ride camp (I learned then) was 30-35 minutes away from the check point by vehicle. At least an hour round trip.
    • 2) the alternate saddle was the exact make and model, but it was a “regular” width. The saddle that I was using that fits her properly with the ideal pad set up is an “X” or a wide width. 

    The broken piece of metal would cost us around an hour, and it would mean riding in a saddle that was not the right size. An analogy would be if I had two pairs of identical shoes, the ones that work best for me a size 9, and the other pair a size 8.5. In this example we could say I wear the size 9 with thick socks that help protect my feet from blisters and give the comfort I need to run at my best. If I have to switch to the size 8.5, I will have to use thin socks with less protection and will not be as comfortable running. 

    I walked the three miles into the pit stop and chatted with the vet and land owners while waiting around 30 more minutes for Matt to return with the saddle. We changed the saddle quickly as possible, and trotted down the hill with a green light from the vet to meet everyone at the first vet hold at mile 22. 

    My first go with the other saddle I had left too much padding and had to stop and get off twice to adjust as the pads, but we moved as fast as we could and arrived at Vet Check 1 to find everyone waiting to help us. The vet was taking the heart rate of the horse as we were pulling off the saddle and her pulse dropped very fast to get our hold clock starting as quickly as possible. She looked great and the vet wondered aloud to us why we had a “B” score for her trot the day before, he thought her trot looked great. 

    Arrival at vet hold 1

    After the 30 minute hold we left with almost zero padding under the saddle, and 22 more miles until the next hold. The “rolling hills” were relentless. I had expected hills, but these were mini-mountains. Thankfully she is aces as trotting down the hills and staying in a relaxed form, but every time I thought we hit some level ground, around a corner was another brutal climb. I could feel the saddle impeding her free moving trot and meant a shorter stride. We were running against the clock, and doing it alone except for the runners which did keep us company. The drawback was they often would walking up the big hills, and when I could inspire K to get some trotting intervals up the hills, and as soon as we came to a walking human she put on the brakes and walked with them instead!

    Still, we ran into vet check 2 with a few minutes to spare and met again with the royal treatment. She was pulsed immediately to the parameter of 64 while pulling tack and they started our hold clock immediately. Here we saw Howard again who offered to trot out Khaleesi while a volunteer brought me iced water. He even checked her nails and gave a quick tighten up to be sure. It was wild to watch the whole team working my horse while Matt helped me with my own needs. She passed with all perfect scores and was surprisingly tolerant of all the pampering. They even brought over a pop up tent and fed her apples while continuing to sponge her as we were going into the heat of the day. 

    Volunteers swarm around the royal steed helping us at vet hold 2

    This hold was 50 minutes and then we were pushing the clock to do 17 miles with more nasty climbs (one I think was called suicide!) to make it to mile 62. I had my doubts we could sustain this all the way to the finish line, but the reminder came: do the next thing until there isn’t a next thing to do. 

    The climbing had been grueling and I kept wondering if it would level out. The total elevation we climbed from starting line to Vet Check 1 was 3,200 feet. The 22 miles from Vet Check 1- Vet Check 2 was 3,786 feet. I suppose we got a little relief on the third loop as the 17 miles brought just under 3,000 feet of climbing. The hour we lost in the cool of the morning to get ahead was very costly.

    This mid-afternoon is where she generally begins to drag. It’s hot and here the bugs were voracious. When the flies got really bad she would stop and shake her head and refuse to move onward. She kept begging me to stop in a large grass patch and eat.

    Gorgeous views from the high meadows

    Unfortunately- we did not have time for that while also racing the clock (she had great gut sounds – this was not an issue). I wanted her to be able to graze and go, but once she started eating it’s all she could think about. I could tell she wasn’t exactly “tired” she was hot, distracted, and irritated. 

    And in the background, the clock… always ticking away.

    It was about three miles more to the next vet check when we passed by the runner aid station they call “Margaritaville,” one other frustration was not knowing where the horse vet checks are and for example Vet check 2 showed up almost 2 miles late according to my GPS which had me concerned. If I had been familiar with the course I might have had more confidence, I might have pushed through here, but I wasn’t even sure in 3 miles the mirage of vet check 3 would actually appear. 

    After the hills, the heat, the clock, the flies, and the constant nagging to give up and only eat the grass… I faced the gauntlet of Margaritaville. We had just gotten a little steam rolling and then there are people lined up on both sides of the road waiting to crew for their runners, canopy tents set up, and cheers and chaos and actually lots of fun for humans- but it’s a potential death zone for a horse not used to such things. Each one of these aid stations slowed us down as K navigated what to her was totally new and concerning, and truthfully it about took all the hope out of me as we walked through the town with her worrying about the cowbells and the little kids running out in front of us excited to see the horse, waving flags or shaking bells. 

    It is possible if I had gotten through the Margaritaville gauntlet and ran her up the hill into the checkpoint, we MIGHT have just made it and gotten out for one more loop. It is possible if we had gotten out there we MIGHT have taken the slightly easier next 11 miles and found the day cooling off, and her second wind coming up, and we MIGHT have begun to beat the clock that was breathing down our hind end. I’ll never know.

    Instead, when I saw a house that offered horse water and carrots, I stopped and got off my horse. This act was basically where the white flag came out and went up the flagpole, because I think I knew getting off and taking time here would mean surrender to the clock. I had not taken the time to electrolyte during the 17 miles and I wondered if that was working against us. I allowed someone to offer K a carrot, and I took a glass of cold water (my hydration pack wasn’t empty but it was warm). After a few minutes I got back on Khaleesi and I insisted we keep moving, but I didn’t push. We got into the hold about 4 minutes after the pulse time had passed and were considered “OT” or Over Time, and no longer in the race. 

    After pulling her tack, the remaining vet checked her and with a heart rate of 48 and all A scores, we loaded up on a trailer to base camp. She was healthy and her gait remained solid through the 62 miles without a hitch. All the things I had prepared for and been concerned about did not pose a problem. The extra calcium plan for the heat and humidity was in place, no metabolic issues came. Her shoes held up great. No issues with her gait. Looking back I did a pretty good job getting this non-arabian ready for a challenging 100 mile ride. Regardless of that, equipment failure still turned into a failure to complete. 

    It was disappointing, but I think I had a pretty good outlook. In retrospect, the day before when we heard a vet tell us we might have a problem, I asked: please let me start this race, and please, I want to see some of the trail… we’ve come so far. And as if a response to that request, we saw over half of the trail. We got three full hard loops in and saw 62 miles of the Vermont 100. 

    I thought the test was going to be about getting across the finish line, but in looking back, I think it was a test to reveal what is under my own skin when the cost is high and the outcome is loss. The only way to see what is there is when things get real. The investment has to be real, and the loss has to be equally real.

    The night before the ride, as I stressed over the potential lameness, I looked squarely at the fear that if I did not finish this ride I might feel like I was a wasted investment. I felt if I could not pull off a finish that I was unworthy. That I had less value. I was worried I might carry the label: Failure. I think that “B” grade helped prepare me, because I sat with my devoted husband and in tears I admitted that I felt I will have let him and everyone down if I can’t get this done. 

    And we both knew that was not true. The pressure was internally generated, and completely unnecessary. 

    He assured me that regardless of the outcome, he was here… WITH me. And I kept hearing a reminder over the months and in that moment that also God was with me. Regardless the outcome. As I navigated between the lies and the truth, like a sharp double edged sword separating bone from marrow, tendons and joints, I think the lie was cut away and the truth remained. 

    Jaime & Matt give K a break at a rest stop in NY

    The truth transforms us. The truth sets us free. The truth allows us to respond to what comes and be disappointed without being devastated.

    No matter what came in the test of the event, I had reached for something beyond what my comfort zone could claim. I had dreamed big and made plans. I walked out those plans day after day, and not only did the preparations, but wrote about them and shared them transparently with others. I took the risk because my real identity was not tied to the outcome and I knew I would still be “me” if I shared a victory or a defeat with the stakeholders.

    In the end, only a few days of hindsight, and hours of being able to process, I can see that I carry a failure to complete on my public record, but I am not a failure. My identity is a bold, adventurous daughter of a creator king. That Father created a beautiful world for me to explore. I love a challenge. I want to live fully the life I have been given, and I’m willing to take a risk that things may not go as planned, and then pivot and roll with the next steps. I want to be fearless and free in the truth, and to walk in grace and love as I run and fall, as I encourage others, and help pick them up along the way. 

    I have heard it said that it is only in being willing to die that we may fully live. As Dr. Luke wrote centuries ago: Those who seek to preserve their lives will lose it, but whoever is willing to lose their life will find it.

    Photo taken between checkpoint 1 and vet check 1. Makes me smile as I imagine the hope we held after the trouble began. Ben Kimball Photography.

    In a way, the trailer ride home from mile 62 was like a death. The death of a hoped for outcome. But I have experienced that to move from empire building to living in the kingdom, death is only a door to resurrection. Like the Phoenix (Fenix!), there is a level up that only death of the old can bring forth. I do believe that this story is a good one, and the little voice that came as I looked at my broken saddle from the ground at mile 13 (“Don’t be afraid, this is a gift!”) is somehow right… Even this is a gift, bigger and better than I can see at the moment.

    Possibly the most interesting question that still lingers, floating up in the aftermath of the great adventure, the one I am not certain how to answer honestly… remains… 

    If I knew then how this would play out… would I still have gone?

    Howard the farrier brought us a special momento to honor our spirit with the ‘Broken Tack Challenge’ award. I treasure it!
  • The Live Wild Beating Heart

    The Live Wild Beating Heart

    We seem to be entering a new season here on the ground at Hope Horsemanship! Over the winter we have done a lot of work breaking new ground and with the emergence of Spring, we have facilities in place to do more activities right here at home. Over the weekend we hosted our first Roving Clinic with the majority of the activities right on the ground on our tiny little horse farm. I took a video tour and will include the link at the end.

    Sunday at the Hope Horsemanship Clinic with Tom Moates coaching Abigail

    As the clinic approached and a new season seemed so clearly springing up, I considered Wyoming who I would be working with on both days. Where were we and what did I want to focus on with her sessions? How is it possible that after seven years there is still so much trouble in that mare? What was her life about here with me, and have I failed her? 

    When I found her online through a TIP trainer in the Mustang Heritage Foundation, I was looking for a companion for my small herd that could be a solid trail riding mount and teach me more about horses. I considered her- born in the wild – a native so to speak. Who better to learn horse from than a wild mustang who should come with pretty pure horse language and instincts? 

    Her description was a well-started mare who needed some miles and experience. She was a pretty and nicely built red dun, and seemed like exactly what I was looking for. That was seven years ago. Things did not go as expected.

    I have since come to see the horse you will learn a lot from is not usually also the horse that is a solid nice trail horse anyone with a little experience can enjoy. These are two very different kinds of horses!

    There is a saying in the Bible from Paul that God can do anything- far more than you could ever imagine or guess or think to request in your wildest dreams. He doesn’t do it by pushing us around, but by working within us… (the Message edition). This is certainly true.

    God has a sense of humor and loves me, so he didn’t give me a solid riding mount. I already had one of those. I got the learning horse and I got it big. I brought home an enigma that catalyzed an epic adventure I would probably not have agreed to had I seen it coming. Of course that’s the best kind, and the more steps I take into the wild, the more I realize this is the only kind of life I want to be engaged in. In fact, if I thought at this point things were settling down into a predictable solid life I could maintain on my own devices, I’d likely fall into a hopeless depression at this point. How boring that story would seem now.

    Wyoming did not comply with the accepted natural horsemanship style training that I was immersed in. Even if she may have been able to function within that paradigm, to ensure our journey, clearly I did not possess the skillset to get it done, and in the area I live no one I found was offering anything much different. The mare would not travel in a trailer, so the possibility of sending her farther out to someone who might have been able to jam her into compliance with more creative tools was off the table as well.

    We were stuck with each other, and if anyone was going to help this horse- it was going to be me- and we were not going anywhere. I was going to need help, and it was going to have to come to us. Somehow help was going to have to travel to the most remote, least populated counties in the Virginia Mountains. To add layers of complication, I did not even have my own property to hold these education events, and I didn’t have the kind of funding it would have taken to simply hire a good professional from afar to come and give me a private training window. Clearly it would take a community here in the remote mountains and looking back, it has been a substantial miracle.

    It became pretty clear to me that if God could feed thousands with one kid’s lunch, he could bring the help I needed to this little tiny community and give us a place to do the work. If He was really there, and He cared about this mare, and me, He’d have to show up and do something. 

    He did. Seven years later I am looking around my tiny horse farm, the same place I was living when this all began never imagining it could be a clinic hosting education center- I didn’t even believe until a year ago horses could exist and thrive here. 

    We began this journey with the favor and ridiculous “luck” of the free use of a massive private horse facility! We went from 3,000 acres, indoor arena, outdoor arena, massive barn and large turn out to 3.5 acres and only exactly what we need to come together and grow. On the outside it looks like reduction, but on the inside it’s a huge expansion and a new beginning of a growth season. It’s like a seed that contains everything a massive tree needs to flourish has been planted, the roots have been reaching down and now is beginning to sprout above the surface.

    All because of a red dun mustang mare who wouldn’t get with the program.

    It was just last week the truth flickered to life in front of me as the truth hit me like a stone. This mare is the living, beating heart of Hope Horsemanship. She is the thread that has stitched it all together. She is the reason I’ve delved into approaches including natural horsemanship, the “Ray Hunt” lineup, positive reinforcement, clicker training, “pure” liberty, old school just get it done by force, and anything else I could experiment with because something was going to get a real change. Everything had moments that looked like a shift, but none of them stuck and made the difference. Regardless of what I could get her to do, I still had a horse with deep anxiety and massive brace toward working with people, and who would try with a willingness that I still find unbelievable, and then come to an “I can’t” moment and break down into a chaotic wreck. It’s a miracle neither of us have gotten killed in the process!

    Working on a right direction circle a few years back

    After finding Harry Whitney then Tom Moates I see the path straightening out, but now in her teens there is so much baggage she carries- a significant amount of it before her arrival- but in all my best efforts I too have added to the weight she carries.

    This is also a lesson. Best intentions are often laced with unintended very real negative consequences. Such is life. We do our best to unravel the tangles we make in our attempts to grow, we trust God to redeem it, and we have grace with others who are making tangled messes in their own efforts. Then I also remind myself to keep trying even though in a time to come I’ll look back on the tangles I’m still making as I try today. It’s ok. Change is possible and growth does come to those who don’t give up. Let grace abound.

    I always learn deep things when I spend time with Wyoming. Sunday, I was pressing on anxiety she carried walking around me, loose in the pen, to the right. She could tolerate walking to the left, but when asked to the right she showed various degrees of trying to displace her attention to not stay present with me, (sniffing the ground, looking outside the pen).  When I continued to (as gently as possible and still get her mind) bring her attention to our present work and relax and see she will not die… she would break into a trot- movement to dissipate the deep anxiety- and would sweat way more than necessary on this cool breezy day. She was in fight or flight and she chose fight just as many times as flight. Even when the entire pen was available to her she would come into the block I had made in a corner and try to force her way to go back in the left direction before she would consider walking to the right. 

    Wyoming bunched up and anxious about moving in a right direction circle

    We have spent a lot of time over the years making circles on and off a lead rope looking for various things over those years, and in the last two years, relaxation and peace has been a high priority. I can imagine bystanders thinking this is crazy- at what point does one brand the horse broken and move on… leave her alone in the pasture to eventually die or as others have suggested to me: give her to someone who is adept enough to do something useful with the mare, which is clearly not me. And here are the shadow voices echoing in my own mind the same thoughts. 

    Yet I’m borderline belligerent with determination that there is YET hope. Maybe that’s due to my middle name being Hope. Maybe it’s why this enterprise is called Hope Horsemanship. If there is ever a foundational change in this horse it will be the success story of my lifetime. Any sane horse person would have probably walked away from this tangled up knot of anxiety and brace when after three years she still threatens to take me out on a regular basis. So clearly… I am not a sane horse person. I guess I’m ok with that. At this point, I have to know. If she’s not dead yet, there is still hope. 

    Isn’t this what we want to believe about ourselves too? The ones we love? The things they carry that create problems and weight us with anxiety… that while we breathe there is hope for light, love and life to increase?

    Here we are in the pen together on a day of new beginnings, and Wyoming is sick with worry about doing this very simple request, after many years of variations of doing this and not dying. Still she was not “being dramatic” or “making it up” – somewhere in her primitive mustang brain this felt like a survival issue. Still. This was clear to me. To a human it doesn’t make sense, however I know people who deal with severe anxiety and isn’t it the same? Don’t the humans I know with anxiety disorders know somehow that the thing they are about to go into cardiac arrest over is not actually a survival thing, but it doesn’t matter because the reaction is still very real to them?

    I was filled with compassion for this mare. This beating heart of my vision for transformation. I continued to insist that she find the right circle and encouraged her with peace whenever she got even the slightest change, first by taking the direction, then whenever a split second of breathing and relaxation set in. She still couldn’t walk, she had to trot or even canter going that direction, but she began to not fight me every time I asked. She began to choose the open door over the closed one even if the open door felt like death.

    One reason this still felt so life or death for her was because in all the years we have picked up this right circle, she may have complied to avoid the fight with me, she may have made an effort to do the thing physically, but she never broke through to a fundamental change in her mental and emotional systems that she could be ok and relax going to the right around me. She was still deeply unconvinced. The only thing that would change this was experience. The only way to get the experience was to get through it to the other side in a way that was not only obedient, but also relaxed. She would require a handler that could not only get the thing accomplished physically but would be able to help her past the physical into the mental and emotional place before taking off all the pressure so the place she would be left with, after the thing that felt like death, would be a true peace. 

    Chatting with Tom about our riding challenges

    In that pen with me, she is safe and nothing can harm her. Still, she doesn’t know that yet, not really. Not in the way that it is experientially real, and for a horse that is the only way they can know anything. She had to experience the fear of survival, then the submission to it, and then the reality that she is safe and ok.

    How often is this true for me?

    Lately I feel inundated by growth opportunities that feel like a threat to my very survival. I have a sense that God is insisting that I learn in a deeper level that nothing can harm me when I’m in his care, and then remember I’m always in his care. Nothing can take away anything that matters. Nothing can touch me without his consent and only because it will mean I emerge in strength, confidence, and peace having experienced that truth that even though it feels like death, submitting to the storm experience only reveals that I’m completely safe and have nothing to fear. And we are assured that even through death we still have nothing to fear. Even death is not a threat. Tell that to my amygdala!

    A fearless life is a powerful life. Fear is what brings about control and bullying. A fearless life doesn’t have to be so protective and choose to fight, a fearless life walks through open doors that look like death with confidence and find new life, new seasons, and great peace. 

    When Wyoming is in fear of her survival, she chooses to fight me. When she trusts that she is safe she, can hear my direction and walk out to the open space I have prepared for her and carry herself relaxed with confidence. I have seen glimpses of it, and on Sunday she had a significant change when after a gentle request she walked off to the right without displacement, without distraction, and relaxed. She can’t hold this for long yet. Once she begins to walk on water (figuratively) she starts to lose her mind, worry, and go back to her old ways, but it’s a start!

    Change is possible. For Wyoming.

    I believe that Wyoming can continue in the direction of being a horse less anxious about things. I believe I can continue to improve my skills to help her get there. There is not a clear answer to how to do this work. This horse takes more sophisticated observation to know when to do more to press through the hard place, and when to do less because it is going get worse. She’s incredibly sensitive and quick to change for better and worse. The bottom line is I have to get better. The good news is, I can.

    Change is possible. For me.

    I love our community. It’s tight knit and small, but it’s welcoming to new friends. We have folks entering and exiting the circles depending on their season. Many people are hopeful that the horse can be fixed to adjust to their needs and goals when things aren’t working. I have come to believe it’s us that usually needs to adjust to help the horse by finding what they need and supporting them. The change has to start in us, and it must be led by us, and most horses come into alignment with that. Sometimes the horse has enough trouble packed in that it’s too wide a gap to bridge with the time and ability of the owner. As stubborn as I am to commit to bridge building- staying in over a decade is not the right call for everyone. Sometimes it’s just a poor fit and finding a horse you enjoy is really important.

    I am beyond grateful for the companions who are on the epic road with me, because it can get lonely! I am encouraged by the community that continues to grow in support of the long term vision and the commitment to walk together for seasons and for life. I am grateful for the changes that have come to my own heart and life and excited when I get to participate and see first hand the changes that bloom around me. 

    I thought I wanted some training ideas. But what I’ve gotten seven years later is more than I had ever imagined or would have dreamed to ask for.

    It’s not about training for us around the pen and in the arena as we learn together. It’s about transformation.

    And it’s still only the beginning!

    The peaceful quiet after the clinic activity ends and everyone hauls out
  • Adverse Conditions

    Adverse Conditions

    If you don’t have something working really well in ideal conditions, you don’t have much hope of them working out in adverse conditions…

    I’ve heard Harry Whitney remind people of this as a fundamental answer to various questions they ask about trouble spots with their horses. It pairs well with another quote, which was my own take home from two days in June watching him at Mendin Fences (TN):

    In my experience, most people don’t know what it looks and feels like to have a horse truly mentally centered and present with you, and so most people don’t really get there, and this is a reason many people can’t seem to get a real change come through. The horse was never really centered up and present.

    It’s been a priority to address Wyoming’s mental centeredness since I’d met Tom Moates early last year.  Tom has been learning from Harry for years, and attention to the horse’s mind is a central focus for him as well. This doesn’t mean I’ve been successful it. We’ve made some significant strides in helping her become more relaxed, less angry, and significantly more cooperative than the other approaches I’ve tried over years. Yet I sensed a trouble in her that I had not gotten to the other side of, even as of this summer and the clinic we hosted in July.

    Harry Whitney, Wyoming & Jaime in Floyd VA, August 2024

    In mid-August, during Harry’s five-day clinic in Floyd (hosted by Tom),  the question came to each participant: what is it you most hope to address this week with your horse?

    I had one request: show me what it looks like to get Wyoming mentally centered and present.

    Harry was willing to guide us through this, and on day one, our lesson hour was spent, from the field to the work space, on learning what she looks like when she is fully present and how to require that she make that a way of life for now. 

    Additionally, my job was to make the times she was present and relaxed as sweet as possible. This is the place that feels good. At first, any time I asked for her attention, she would start throwing out options I might ask her for, like walking a circle. It was as if she had a hard time believing I could ask for her to be relaxed, ready, and present and then just breathe a moment and find peace in that space. Probably I don’t find as much peace with these creatures as I could, and a change here will serve us both. This was all we did.

    Harry & Wyoming finding a sweet spot with her mind present.

    At the end of our session that day, Harry suggested I take her all the way back to her paddock walking backward and not taking a step she wasn’t “with me.” It took a lot for me to stay that present and focused. 

    It took a lot of focus on day one to walk backward to the gate connected at every step to release Wyoming from class. But I was committed to the process. Harry helped me to be able to see when she was present, and bring her back when she wasn’t. The entire week I did not take a step without expecting she would come back to being mentally centered. This is not to be confused with being “hyper focused” on the human at every second for fear of punishment. There are training methods where a horse is ambushed or punished for looking around. Though I use a flag for some of this work, it is built around creating an indirect distraction or sound or movement that draws the attention back to me. The key difference is intention: the actions is not at her – not a threat toward her. I need to become more important or interesting than the other distractions. Working with Harry, we don’t use fear or force as a motivating factor. Doing this takes a shift in thinking.

    Once this becomes a way of life, the horse can look around and notice the environment because they have learned to quickly make note, let it go, and return to the place of peace which is back mentally centered with the human in the work. It is part of learning to let go of a thought that doesn’t serve the horse.

    Wyoming is a highly sensitive horse that has her attention split, keeping everything around her in check in order to survive each day. When she is distracted keeping tabs on everything within five miles, she can throw out autopilot training moves, but she cannot stay present in the active conversation I want to have with her. I don’t want push button autopilot. This has not served us at all. I want actual communication, in real time, addressing the present moment we are in. In order to do this she has to let go of the other things and stay with me. As Harry helped us make this a reality, secondary issues began to dissolve on their own. 

    During the week we addressed some different challenges I had been working on. We loaded her onto a trailer that was darker and had a step up entrance (instead of a ramp).

    Borrowing a strange trailer

    I worked on “knot work”- addressing the claustrophobia from early halter trauma that’s been present in some form the entire time I’ve had her. The day we explored knot work, I expected to see at least some extreme reaction to the halter, but it simply never came.

    Knot work

    I rode her in the round pen; I’d had trouble in the past getting a forward thought to walk on without driving her. We came up against a little drama here, but worked through it in short order, and had a nice shift in riding as well.

    Finally I felt a shift that seemed a significant change and I’ve continued this work at home. If this mare is not mentally present or centered up things do not go well. She gets annoyed at having her thoughts interrupted when she’s concerned about other things. Sometimes she still gets dramatic when she shares her feelings about her own ideas being interrupted or blocked. When she is mentally centered she is like the wonder horse I’ve always wanted. She is soft, adjustable, responsive, and willing. 

    I’ve been riding her at home in my round pen, enjoying great sessions where we are building like one would a green colt, forward, steering, stopping and backing. 

    I am trying to start this journey in as ideal conditions as possible. I continued to prioritize mental connection. I can put on the halter without fuss, load her on the trailer, and ride her in the pen. Each day more positive experiences and progress. Last week, Matt and I took her on a solo adventure, loading her on the trailer for a short drive to our local recreation area. We unloaded her, took a walk, then loaded her and returned home. It was a great success.

    Matt, Wyoming & Jaime have a successful adventure

    My next plan was to bring her to visit my farrier for Khaleesi’s shoe visit on Friday. I want to keep building on experience a real horse can have and farrier visit seemed a great next step to me. I trim Wyoming’s feet myself, and if we were able to get some trim work done or not was not important. Simply the experience of going on the trip successfully was the goal. Keep it simple.

    What I did not account for was hurricane Helene.

    Adverse conditions.

    First, Hurricane Helene turned tropical storm was making her way through the South and though we never had the destructive storms, we had almost 2” of rain and gusty winds. All this boils down to prey animals on high alert. The mares were spring loaded by the time to get going came.

    Second, the weather was crummy enough that though I was minimally willing to do what seemed necessary to have this adventure, I was less willing to go out early enough to assess her mental state, and intervene to find a working mindset before even considering loading. I gravely underestimated the effect of these adverse conditions. I might normally have planned a few minutes to shape this up… What I really needed in these conditions (in hindsight) was an hour of focus… and still, it might not have brought success.

    Third, we had a soft deadline. I highly value my farrier and drive an hour over the mountain to haul to him. He was at home, and happened to be flexible. Still, night would fall at some point, and though I had a time window, it wasn’t endless. Time restrictions always feel like pressure. Pressure brings fear of failure which often makes for poor decisions.

    To make a painfully long story shorter, Matt and I did the things that were successful in the past for about an hour. Over that time I watched the stubborn mare I used to know show up stronger to the forefront and dig in her heels. The more we insisted she join us with the trailer plan the more she resisted.

    I made a pretty good mess of it as I became desperate to get it done. Matt was a phenomenal help, and he never got frustrated though things were not going well. When our best efforts and closest moments dissolved into escapes off the ramp in panic, I saw I was doing more harm than good and creating problems I was going to have to fix. I knew the frustration I kept at bay was getting closer to the surface, and I knew that would only make things even worse. 

    I made one good decision to set aside my own stubbornness. I made the call to abort the mission, put her back in the lot, and take the horse who needed shoes before we had to abandon altogether. Wyoming did not have to make this trip. 

    It was hard not to consider this admitting defeat and total failure. Because that’s exactly what it felt like, and I am not one to admit defeat easily. I told myself years ago I would NOT allow work with my horses to become a win-lose scenario. I am not in this to make my horses into losers. How I want to function is a growth model, and it’s a long journey. I was recently reminded by Adam Grant in his book Hidden Potential:

    though straight line growth feels faster in the short term, it’s been proven many times that growth curves and loops are the only way to get farther over the long term.

    For a straight line thinker I have to remind myself of this intentionally, often.

    The mare was not with me, and we were way too deep in adverse conditions to swim out- especially considering it wasn’t necessary. Hopefully this was a loop in the long term trajectory that would carry us farther than my preferred straight lines of success ever would.

    My biggest miscalculation was to think I could get her out of the field after a half day of being jacked up by her environment, and then load her as if we had already mastered this because we had a few successful trips in ideal conditions. If I would have stopped to ask myself if she was mentally centered up sooner it would have been obvious that she was not. For some reason I thought I could overcome this deficiency by sheer willpower. Strangely enough eight years of trying to overcome her inattentive mind to get her to do anything never worked. Why I thought I could revert to my old ways and get a different outcome is… mostly embarrassing.

    After over thirty minutes of this idiocy, I saw it clearly. I realized she was minimally mentally present and that was my biggest problem. She wasn’t running me over or creating a danger and so I accepted it as good enough- but she was still highly distracted. After starting the process and getting very poor results I took her away from the rig to address her mental connection. 

    This was the most challenge I’ve ever had getting big enough for her to let go of every outside distraction a stormy day could bring. She would look at me and immediately avert her eyes, head, neck or even her body, to a sound or rustle or leaf in the air. To her this was survival and self-preservation. I couldn’t keep her mind for more than two seconds at a time. I worked very hard to get very big and very loud and very active and I could get maybe five seconds. If so I would take a few steps do it again and get a few seconds and take a few steps. In this mode I got her all the way onto the trailer, but as soon as matt touched the butt bar she would explode off because even though I could get her body on, her mind had not settled there. 

    It was a lost cause. I might have stopped after I realized she was not capable of staying present, and I should have realized that within five-ten minutes. I could have asked that question sooner and I might have realized that I was into depths we could not swim successfully. Possibly if I’d have addressed the mental state better in the first few minutes I might have had a chance. I don’t know.

    As always there are the growth opportunities. I get to experience once again as a reminder what many people I care about are also experiencing when they get some momentum with their horses and then skip over – sometimes purposely and sometimes without realizing it- to the deep end and get into a bad situation. Not only is it humbling for me to hit a place I cannot overcome in one fell swoop, it’s good for me to have to experience what people around me are going through. I am willing to go through challenges in order to learn things that might be able to help others. And so as James tells us in his letter: Count it all joy when you meet trials of various kinds! For you know the testing produces steadfastness, and let this have its full effect that you may be complete, lacking in nothing! 

    Also, it reveals to me me the dark, stubborn, frustrated part of me I hope to identify and eradicate. If I could have done so, I would have picked up that horse, hog tied her into that stall, and forced her on the journey. At some point I lost most of my compassion for her and the real sense of threat and pressure she felt.

    Working in ideal conditions

    In ideal conditions I have grown so much! I have tons of patience and empathy for what the horse thinks and feels. I can say I am here to help you and mean it. When the conditions squeeze me, what comes out? Eventually frustration and the desire to beat her with my flag until she complied by force, broken mind and broken will. I did not go there, but it was because I know that doesn’t work- not because of my stunning maturity and grace. It’s good to be reminded of the garbage that remains in the darkest corners that still need cleaning out. Lord help me, and thank you for exposing it without me acting on it.

    Something encouraging I considered in my personal debrief: this mare has a history of going to fight mode unusually quickly. She has threatened violence when she feels treated unfairly, with punishment or force. Friday, her stubborn will engaged, refusing to be loaded on the trailer, however, she never threatened with dragon ears, rearing, or nipping. She refused, but she didn’t fight.

    In the end, the conditions didn’t seem adverse enough to me to create this trial. I was wrong. Also, I had thought that our ideal conditions work was going well and it was. But I’ve learned from Harry that me, and many of us who are pursuing excellence and a higher working connection, are not aware enough yet of the subtleties in the ideal conditions that his eye would be. I can hear him say: you’d better get that working better because it won’t hold when things get adverse. The same as he has observed: most people don’t know what it looks and feels like for a horse to be fully present and truly mentally centered.

    Practicing going forward and back through the gate keeping her present each step.

    It seems many of us have to feel in mortal danger before we dig into what seems good enough. Apparently, for each person, there is a different threshold for working good enough. All foundations have a certain amount of weakness. Will it result in a tragic wreck or only sub-standard performance? It probably will depend in part on what kind of conditions you face. For Khaleesi, these adverse conditions were not a huge deal, for Wyoming they were a deal breaker. I want to be someone who digs deeper even when things are not downright scary and grow even when things seem good enough.

    Harry… the ‘Coast Guard’ Whitney

    I still having a long way to go. This means more time in the ideal to expose foundational cracks and more gradual steps into incremental adversity so the cracks are patched up before being totally overwhelmed beyond hope without a rescue effort from the coast guard. Someday I hope to see morelike Harry. Because of his experience and attention to details, time for him is shorter in the shallow end, and he has more tools and experience in the deep end- I suppose in some ways Harry is the coast guard.

    Today I am grateful that horses have memories and experiences, yet they also shift quickly with their experiences. I am pretty sure I caused problems I’ll have to fix, but if I show up fresh the next day, I believe she will as well, and if I bring my A game she will respond. Nothing is beyond repair, even though repairing damage I’ve caused isn’t a good way to proceed. 

    Epilogue.

    The following day we had a break in the rain and I spent some time with Wyoming to assess the damage. She was more difficult to halter in the field, but once I had her on line she came with willing softness and keeping her attention centered was easier in the calm sunny afternoon. I struggled to load her as easily as previous, but Matt had been watching and asked if he could try. It took some communication and patience, but he was able to load her twice fully on where she felt relaxed and calm. We did not close the bar, but took the progress and moved on.

    Matt and Wyoming regroup after the storm

    Matt then kept her attention and held the rope while I attended to her feet which did need a trim. She did so well we also put on her saddle and did some work in the round pen. All of this went well and Matt took the lead (literally) on much of it. He has a grace and patience for that mare I sometimes struggle with, and she responds well to it. 

    Yes there are some setbacks, there was a price from the poor choices and miscalculations I made, but these things will pass, the growth will continue in loops and curves. As always… Hope continues.

  • Change is possible…

    Change is possible…

    Hello! I’m sending this short “extra” to share two videos to show the continued work this spring with wild Wyoming, the horse that was never wrong (for a day).

    Last year I spent some time with Harry Whitney, read some books by Tom Moates– and invited him to come visit with us here in the mountains, and listened to a fair amount of Mark Langley‘s podcast. I was steeping myself in this way of considering the horse that was a fundamental shift in my approach as much as possible.

    I had some nice changes with Khaleesi over the year that I’m loving watching take root into an early harvest this Spring. As we prepare for some events this year, I can feel her new levels of relaxation and adjustability in movement! However Wyoming and I had a rougher go of the changes and trying to sort out how to understand each other in a better way. Last summer there were a fair amount of death threats (probably from each of us) as the lines of muddled communication began to untangle, and sometimes things get looking worse before they begin to smooth out.

    Regardless, I knew there was something important in the process so I kept at it.

    Then the horses moved home in November which has been a big change for all of us that is settling in nicely now six months into it… and I’ve begun to spend some time working with them again.

    The initial work with Wyoming this year has been promising, and in the subsequent sessions, I’ve seen continued progress toward more partnership. Certainly the difference rests mostly in me. Change is possible, but it has to begin with “me” because usually the horse is a perfectly good horse doing what horses are created to do, and usually what the exhibit is in response to the way their environment (mostly human caused) has shaped in them. So regardless of who that human (or humans) were and what it was that did the shaping- that’s not nearly as important as where to go next. The change has been happening in me as I continue to seek and grow and take an honest assessment of my flaws and weaknesses in order to commit to address them.

    I’m encouraged by the start of this year, and it gives me hope that there really is change possible for the two of us. I have a sliver of excitement that maybe this could be “the year” for Wyoming and me to begin to function together in a positive way!

    Change is possible, but it has to begin with “me”

    People have mentioned lately that staying with this dysfunctional situation for over six years must mean I have a whole lot of patience and determination. I suppose in some respects that is a little true. However… I remind them that she had more patience and determination to help me, because she is the one who refused to get on a trailer for that long- and I live in the end of nowhere… which meant I couldn’t move her on if I wanted to and pass her education on to someone else! Unless I was willing to shoot a perfectly healthy horse (which I did consider once or twice, but never seriously!) I wasn’t left with many options but to keep slogging onward. Considering in all those years of lots of sound and fury and threatening, she only once gave me a bruise from trying to bite the halter and grazing my arm, I think she’s been the one to praise. Apparently she never gave up on me.

    I won’t get ahead of myself yet. We have a long journey ahead of us, but I think we’ve begun to sort out a better path, and maybe you’ll begin to see some exciting changes in our story this season… stay tuned and see!

    Meanwhile, here are two videos that will show more than my words are able how the progress is coming for now.

  • The devil in the details.

    The devil in the details.

    In the last post (Complicated), I posed the root question:

    And so, the whole thing depends on the question: can I help change Wyoming’s experiences and thus her mind, that working together with me is something she can feel good about? And in changing this, could she feel better about her life all around?

    Over time I have been given advice about Wyoming suggesting a few basic horsemanship concepts. I was told You’ve got to make the “wrong” thing difficult and the “right” thing easy. Also This is a horse where you have to get it to be her idea if you want to succeed.

    This is all well enough… but somehow I wasn’t able to get a next step from the well meaning clinicians and horse-folk who suggested these better ways, to actually sort out exactly how was one to do this? The devil, they say, is in the details.

    As for the first premise, I have been astounded at how easy the “right” thing can be (walk quietly in a circle) to find this mare will choose ear pinning, rearing, and even trotting or cantering in order to NOT comply with my “easy” request. Have you ever heard that it takes more effort to frown than to smile? I’m certain that ear pinning and rearing take way more effort than quietly walking relaxed a turn or two around me.

    Khaleesi had this figured out pretty quickly. She did the math and came to the conclusion complying with my general requests were going to be the path of least resistance. I think she also knew my heart (is that a stretch to write about?) for however a horse knows these unseen things, I think Khaleesi has always known that for better or worse, overall I am trying to do right by her. This horse seems to reward the least try by her human, and she seems to have a lot more grace in my failings. Khaleesi is the kind of horse of which it is said: they will fill in for you… a lot.

    Wyoming is not such a horse. She may or may not know my heart is to do right by her, but she tells me every single time I am not quiet enough in a request, every single time I get impatient and don’t allow her the time to consider and choose. She responds to my energy and where I am looking and if my body is not exactly angled in the ideal way to ask that thing. She responds in a huge way if I am at all confusing to her in any signal. Wyoming has a very low tolerance for mixed signals or confusion.

    As for the second piece of advice, the making it her idea. I never got someone to show me effectively what that would that look like with her. In the past I figured it’s obviously one of those things you have to struggle through on your own (what are you an idiot to have to ask that follow up question of HOW to do it? Or maybe it was like the force… you have to find it on your own grasshopper). That was another assumption. I should have probably asked better follow up questions. Maybe someone might have been able to show me.

    Observing Harry Whitney and Tom Moates, it seems altogether less magical and more practical. The horse gets to choose and whatever she does IS her idea now. And as I’ve heard Harry say: when it’s her idea, then she will own it, then it’ll stick.

    Harry Whitney in TN patiently allows for the horse to come to the idea on her own

    Oh, I thought. So I must not trick, force, or otherwise manipulate and threaten her into doing what I want. And yet somehow I have to help her make better decisions? Which then follows that if I’m dealing with her honestly and not manipulating or otherwise controlling or punishing her… then it actually has to work out better FOR HER when she chooses the thing I am presenting. Which might incentivize her to truly seek to join with me because… it works out for her when she does.

    The devil is in the details.

    I hear a lot of talk in horse circles about putting the horse first, then watch the presentation of folks’ interpretation of that in action and am skeptical. Let me clarify a finer point, often I observe my own presentation of my own interpretation of putting the horse first, and I am highly skeptical even of my own stewardship of this concept.

    And yet, as I perch outside the round pen as Harry helps a horse, I think there is actually a simple truth in… well… put the horse first? Harry Whitney, in the scant week or so I’ve spent around him in California and Tennessee, puts an emphasis on how the horse feels above everything else. 

    Harry in Vista, CA February 2023 helping a horse center and find peace in the midst of distraction

    I am pretty good by now about sorting out what a horse does. I can see the way a horse steps over a hind foot, or if the horse’s body moves backward, or if the horse is walking, trotting or cantering. I am even good at seeing a weight shift and feeling which foot is lifting underneath me. It is not that hard to sort out: I asked you to walk, and you are not walking. This I need to “fix” somehow. Harry wants to know how the horse feels.

    As I circle back to the question, can I help Wyoming FEEL better about her life, it seems now to rise above all the other questions I have asked: Can I get Wyoming comfortable on the trailer? Can I get Wyoming to respond to a simple request unoffended? Can I put on a halter without her nipping at it as I put it on? Can I convince her to carry me as a rider without being so pinched up inside?

    And so I went to work last week, and the devil is in the details.

    Day one and day two were spent with Tom sorting out the fact that Wyoming is not only complicated, but that she does not feel good most of the time. Even in the herd she is never fully relaxed, she is the one who appears to take on the role of defender of any possible harm. This is a heavy load to carry. Any new environmental stimuli, even a chainsaw a mile away in the woods across the street is cause for concern and alert. 

    Khaleesi has a more balanced sense of what is concerning, and what can be noticed and let go of. Same herd, same stimuli, still aware of her environment and sometimes on alert, but quicker to let something go and relax again.

    If I were to consider Wyoming’s “worry cup” (as in the amount of anxiety a horse is building up until it runneth over – usually in a negative expression of some sort), Wyoming is not a cup half full kind of mare… she is like 5/8th  most of the time and now has learned to carry that kind of worry in everything she does. This would mean when I want to do something together I have precious little room to press her before her cup runs over. I think this constant anxiety is a big part of this not feeling good all the time.

    If she lives at 5/8 full, I think me showing up puts her at 6/8 (or 3/4 for those who prefer to simplify their fractions) then whatever we begin to sort through together leaves only 7/8 and then bam… self-protection at all costs shows up in fight/flight with the fight being unusually high on her list of options.

    I am considering the possibility that her 5/8 full worry cup at all times being a way of life could account for why she is so quick to flip over to fight/flight and the fact that we’ve had to get decent at dumping out the part we just filled if we both want to survive together. If this is an accurate hypothesis, then it follows that I have not been effective at getting down into the bottom 5/8 of the cup she carries constantly in order to empty some of that and give us some emotional space to work in.

    If I had to find an analogy to compare it to, it’s like working with a machine that is not running quite properly and you have to learn how to manage it without it overheating and blowing up if you want to get anything done. We exist too close to the red zone as an every day functioning.

    I think until I find a way to dig into some of the chronic discontent/anxiety she carries as her normal and help her to let go some of that somehow… then I’m constantly in the zone where every move I make could be the thing that takes her over the edge. It’s an eggshell kind of life. My guess is she would rather not live that way either. If she knew there was another way.

    As Tom says: this is the horse she would rather be.

    This winter and at other times I’ve put her into the benign neglect zone, first because I didn’t have any promising answers to bring a change. Second, in the winters I’m busy with my teaching work and have far less time for the herd.

    I used the think caring for her basic needs, allowing her to settle into a herd in a life of basic freedom could not only do no harm, but would help her reset again and feel better in order for us to possibly try again after that refreshing time off. Maybe the horse can drain the cup on her own? Since meeting Harry I am convinced that they actually DO need intervention in a different experience in order to make a change. Leaving them alone to “be a horse” if they are troubled will not fix the trouble. 

    The biggest take-away I had from Harry in Tennessee this spring was: 

    Our understanding runs our emotions, our emotions dictate our actions.  If you want a change in the horse, you must change their understanding. 

    Harry Whitney

    After Tom’s visit it had come into focus for me, somehow Wyoming needs new experiences to get that cup drained enough that she could withstand a little pressure in order to grow and expand her world. Leaving her alone to a world that gets smaller and smaller due to fears is not kindness. Creating a shake up in order to help her was going to be necessary.

    No Wyoming… tell me how you really feel?

    And the devil is in the details.

    This is where the hoof hits the dirt. The first question from the last post was: can I help Wyoming feel better with new experiences that will change her mind. Once everyone was gone and it’s just me and the mare I now to have to ask: How on earth am I going to do this?

    I have a feeling this is going to demand more from me that I currently possess in knowledge, skill, creativity, grace and most of all patience. As I got started, I realized this horse is probably going to be the kind that makes me or breaks me – meaning I will either grow and learn, or she’ll be too much for me and I will truly fail her. I can not at the moment accept the latter as a possibility, so I’m prepared to be changed from this process. 

    And so we begin… again… again.

  • Complicated

    Complicated

    “Well she’s… complicated…” he says, “This isn’t the kind of horse you move on, sell to someone else or otherwise offload.” As he turned to my friends he added, “This is the kind of horse that, well, people with this kind of disorder end up with…”

    I didn’t ask Tom what exactly that disorder was. I didn’t ask because I was pretty sure I knew. I was pretty sure it was whatever the disorder- it is the thing that tries to explain why certain people, upon finding they have acquired a “complicated” horse, instead of thinking what a terrible thing it is and how difficult the road will be, see an opportunity to learn things that “uncomplicated” horses cannot teach you.

    I could be wrong about that and probably should have asked. Probably I didn’t really want to know the definition of this disorder in it’s entirety. Some things are better left to wonder.

    I do have a fairly “uncomplicated” horse in the herd and I enjoy her immensely. I am not the kind of person who has to have a problem to solve at all times. Ok. That’s not true, I am that kind of person. However, I am also the kind of person who can enjoy an uncomplicated horse. In fact, I am grateful that the complicated horse will make me better for the uncomplicated one as well. 

    Enough of that. Back to the complicated wild one.

    I’ve had Wyoming, I keep saying about five years, but I think I’ve been saying five years for at least two years now, so it might be more like seven years. I’ve written about her journey from time to time here. I’ve ridden her, I’ve done ground work, I’ve trailer loaded her, I’ve done clinics with her… but I have never found “success” with her. 

    When I say success I mean: felt like we had come to a place where things were working together well. 

    Everything I have done with her that initially masqueraded as success has always eventually unraveled, sometimes in potentially dangerous ways.

    I could get things done with her, and she’s so sensitive it sometimes “looked” amazing, but it never felt good, it never felt solid, it never felt right.

    I still haven’t given up. This mare has over time brought up the question for me if there are horses we should “give up” on and allow them to live out their days as a pasture ornament, but that never felt right for her. I think Wyoming has a desire to do something together. I just have not been able to figure out how to do it so it works for us both.

    This is Tom Moates’ second visit to play around with us on the farm. We focused on trailer loading last time, and though that is still not settled, I have a good path laid out and can continue to work on it. What I wanted to address this visit was the path to becoming a reliable riding horse (or the decision she couldn’t be). 

    She has been started and restarted a few times already, the last time, a couple years back I even went on a few nice trail rides on her before she began laying down during the ride. Yes, while I was riding her. When she was done, she was done. I was never hurt, she would simply lay down and I got off, but this is an example of how it was not successful. 

    I tried letting her know this laying down thing is not how we do trail rides. She didn’t care. When Wyoming is done, there’s nothing left to say about it. I could have whipped or beat her, but it wouldn’t matter. She would die if that’s what it took. This is what we come to, eventually, with about everything.

    After a few episodes of her laying down on the trail, and me trying various responses of either ignoring it- getting off, asking her to get up, and simply getting back on and continuing on… I also tried carrying a crop and smacking her forward when she started to lay down… she actually got so fast at it in order to avoid getting driven forward that she could lay down with little to no warning! 

    But it didn’t matter in the end, because the problem continued to move up the chain to her refusing to leave the yard entirely and she would crow hop, buck and start to rear if I insisted. Which took us all the way back to can we ride in the arena again, and then can I just get on her and ask her to go forward at all?

    This is an example of how things would come apart. 

    And so I go back to the drawing board and try to figure out why this isn’t working out.

    Since she didn’t travel on a trailer (she has before but that also came unglued) my options for getting help living at the end of nowhere have been limited. In February, Harry Whitney put me in touch with Tom Moates, who lives within driving distance from me. Tom has an interest (disorder based too?) in wild mustangs and complicated horses, Wyoming is both of these, so he was keen to work with me if I could line up enough other horses to make the short trip worthwhile. We now call them these fun two-days of people and horses “roving clinics” as we hop up the valley from farm to farm on the 220 corridor. Mix in some good food and laughter and what could be better?

    A soft moment with Tom after we worked a while on getting her to center up her mind

    On Monday (day one of two days this visit), Tom watched me halter Wyoming in the field with her small herd loose on the handful of acres, and try to get her mind centered on me. Unsuccessfully. 

    I had planned to get her halter on in order to bring her in so we could begin talking about the process of saddle and riding and how we might go about finding the holes that have apparently been left behind in the many other starting processes so I could sort out my homework with her going forward. I had plans, but have learned to come with a plan and take what presents. I could have walked her away but I knew she wasn’t with me, so I tried to address that first. 

    Tom watched me struggle to center the mare and get her to let go of the herd, the environment, and all the other things her busy mind keeps track of at any one second and after a few minutes asked me: Would you like me to comment?

    Yes. Please. 

    In this way we began working right there in the field with what we had. It took a while to get the mare willing to give up on all the other thoughts she was juggling enough to cooperate with a few simple asks including “can you walk around me in a circle, relaxed and responsive in case I want to make a change midstream (not on autopilot)?” What I’ve become used to and what Tom and the others were seeing is that this mare can go from: I’m ok but I’m not really focused… to I’m about to stab you in the heart and pound on your grave… quickly back to oh hey what do you want to do for dinner?

    It’s a Jekyll and Hyde life with her, and when she threatens death it’s convincing.  I’ve yet to see her follow through, and I’m not afraid of her. This doesn’t mean I don’t take her seriously, but I don’t think she wants to act out her threats. When I see this dragon act, I usually put in a hard boundary and she lets go of murder momentarily, and we go back into the cycle… wash, rinse, repeat. I have not been able to make a significant change in the cycle as of yet. Thus the we are not successful feeling I have. 

    On any normal day you walk into the field with the herd she is the ambassador, friendliest horse I have. I bring anyone and everyone in to meet the horses without concern. She is not a generally aggressive horse. She loves to be around people and I see her as usually quite willing to try. All it takes is for her to feel trapped and asked to do something (anything) that isn’t what she had in mind and it flips like a switch to life and death, self-preservation, and you can see it in her threats to fight.

    Abigail & Wyoming a few years back

    She doesn’t hold on to that big bluster long, and when I meet that with an equal sized quit that!! She always does, and she goes back to a normal looking horse, her eyes are not blazing and her ears look normal, and the teeth go back where they belong behind fuzzy velvet muzzle. Usually she’ll comply with the request which is something like walk around a circle. But often she does it with a hard heart. She complies in order to get it over with which becomes avoidance by compliance. This turns into auto-pilot where she can do the thing without engaging her brain which she prefers to keep on the forty-two things she is juggling while trying not to have to give me any more brain space than necessary to keep me at bay.

    I have learned to walk the knife edge of demanding things of her and yet not getting hurt, which as I reflect might have put us in a truce where I accept not having her full attention if she will give me enough of it to do a thing together. This would also be why we still are not successful.

    As Tom watched this dynamic between us he questioned some of my responses and my timing, and my choice to get bigger or not get bigger, and when… which all was useful for me because we have a particular history and way of relating that may not be always ideal. Yet after a while when he asked to take the lead rope and do some experimenting he came back with the moment we began this blog.

    She’s complicated.

    Tom observed not very many horses are as quick as she is to go to full on life or death self-protection response and threaten violence. He also didn’t think she truly wanted to take out a human, but we all agree it’s not completely posturing. If she were pressed it seemed likely she’d shoot to kill. Her switch between the two: life and death versus compliant seemed unusually quick. It was also not completely clear when the bad attitude needed to be met with a big boundary and when it might be more productive to ignore it and allow it to dissolve without creating an explosion. I have struggled myself sorting this knife edge out in working with her.

    What Tom came around to express is his clarity that the mare doesn’t feel very good most of the time, and because she isn’t feeling very good, she’s quick to explode. We don’t know if this is necessarily physical. She may not feel good physically, though I don’t have evidence for this. What seems very clear is mentally and emotionally she does not feel good. This could be chicken and egg so we have to start somewhere to effect her feeling better and my sense is mentally emotionally is a good place to start because we have no clear entry point for the physical (I’ve had her checked over through the years wondering if she had physical issues, and we just don’t have any good leads on that side). 

    She is hyper vigilant and is always ready for an environmental factor to take out the herd. She is concerned about everything. I also think from the way I’ve worked with her in the past- with my natural horsemanship, direct pressure, driving style- she is concerned about getting the right answer to a cue. It’s not personal, it’s everything. She’s like a teenager who is mad at the world and the bad attitude is always at the surface ready to come out in a snarky comment, sarcastic remark or an eye roll. 

    I don’t know if she came this way or if humans (including me) created this. My guess is it’s a combination, and it doesn’t really matter. The same me working with the same tools also produced Khaleesi who is a great partner and basically compliant- even one might say responsive – horse. We have much room for improvement together but Khaleesi never threatens my life. Each kid is different in a family, so is each horse in a herd. And this horse is more like the kid adopted from a war zone who lived there long enough to carry some trauma. Regardless of her background, I’m sure I have a hand in the degree of problems we are working out. I’m not particularly bothered by this, I only plan to do better from here. 

    Great moment at the end of the session when Tom was checking out if she can tolerate some “dead weight” while carrying the saddle.

    When Tom said she doesn’t feel good about anything it struck me in a new way. Strange, because I could have said that same thing myself for years if I’d thought about it. Deep down I knew this was true but hadn’t isolated this is the root problem everything hinges from. Clearly the entire picture is hanging on the question: can I help Wyoming feel good about life in general and working with me?

    If she did begin to feel good, then trailer loading would work out better, the riding would fall into place, and even simple things would not be such a challenge. As Tom observed: you can get THAT onto a trailer, but then what? You’re just trailering THAT around! You don’t want to travel with THAT? THAT is not the kind of thing you want to export.

    we don’t want to export THAT

    Indeed.

    And so, the whole thing depends on the question: can I help change Wyoming’s experiences and thus her mind, that working together with me is something she can feel good about? And in changing this, could she feel better about her life all around?

    Apparently that’s part of the disorder in me, against all evidence so far, I say yes. At least I think that’s what having hope is all about. Here at Hope Horsemanship, I’m certainly going to try.