Hope Horsemanship

Tag: God

  • 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!
  • Hopes & Dreams

    Hopes & Dreams

    May 1, 2022

    If I am being completely transparent, I do not have all the answers.

    In fact, as things tend to go, the longer I live the more I realize the less I know.

    In case I ever thought I had something going for me on my own, I was given a gift that would always serve as a reminder of the wonder and mystery of creation and our imagined control over it as humans.

    Her name is Wyoming.

    I wrote that description a little tongue in cheek but as I reflect on it, the weight of the truth of it sits too close to my heart to ignore. I have thought she is a gift to me many times, but I am coming to KNOW it. The kind of knowing that goes deeper than the mind and no matter the circumstances in the fullness of time, it can not be shaken.

    Wyoming is one of my greatest teachers. And today as I reflected on the outside help I have gotten, or hoped to get that would somehow be “the answer” I was looking for, the thing to make clear what has been unclear over time… the “shortcut” to the long term relationship… the thing that would flip the switch from sketchy to solid… the mindset, the technique, the piece I seem to be missing that would take this wild thing and allow her to be able to choose to trust me all the way. The detail I need to see that would allow her to put her life in my hands and work together without flee or fight constantly cycling through the process… come to work on the same page as mine.

    A year ago I came to accept that if she doesn’t make the decision herself, it will not come. She will not be forced like most horses eventually are. There is something deep in her spirit that will not let go of her perceived thread of freedom. She has a wildness in her heart that will not be tamed, but maybe someday will be rechanneled into something beautiful and not destructive.

    In fact. Maybe she’s a lot like me.

    From my journal, Sunday morning, May 1, 2022

    I lift up my eyes to the mountain- where does my help come from?My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth.

    Psalm 121:1-2

    I look to my surroundings and wonder… who will help me?

    I know that alone I am insufficient for the task at hand. I have a wild horse I cannot seem to get on the same page with. You see, everything has to be her own idea or she isn’t interested. It’s always about her own hopes and dreams. She refuses to accept that my plans truly are better.

    Take for instance yesterday when she had two ticks crawling around the tip of her nose. I asked her to hold still so I could remove them before they embedded somewhere, and everytime I got close to the tick, gently moving my hand with low energy and rubbing her head working down her nose so she would see I was trying to help her… at the last second she would jerk away and we would have to begin again. Eventually I gave up the losing endeavor but found an opportunity later where she was distracted enough that I was able to grab them without her being as aware. The back door approach since she is always suspicious of the front door.

    Grabbed the ticks while she was curious about what I was doing with Khaleesi in the barn.

    Also, her feet need more attention that I can do in the small amounts lately she has the patience for. She would be better off if she trusted me to do what I know to do to help her.

    She hates being left alone, and yet she refuses to carry a rider or ride on the trailer, and so she is always the one left behind.

    Her limited vision of what freedom looks like, the value of her independence, her own hopes and dreams, these are not only limiting but the have the potential to cause her physical and emotional pain. 

    We are currently guests on a beautiful farm, but someday we will have a home of our own, and if she still will not accept what looks like “death” (getting on the trailer… into the tomb) she won’t experience the real life of moving into her own home with her herd. She could potentially be left behind without her family. Yet her limited equine vision cannot imagine anything good coming out of giving up her freedom to go into the death box.

    Some suggest what would have been best would be left alone to a true wild horse life. If only she could be released back to the plains of Wyoming- or never removed. That would be ideal, so now she is stuck in this human realm of captivity. The romance of the wild horse running free. The pictures look amazing, and the video is stunning.

    In the “garden of Eden version” this would make sense. The perfect world that was intended in creation, but we don’t live in a perfect world, we live in a broken world where the harsh realities of nature are not the romance we want to see.

    The truth is these horses are fighting for resources, not only among the cattle ranches (and I’m sure no one who loves wild horses also likes to eat beef…) but even in ranges without fights for grazing rights, the resources of the west are at a premium. The people charged with monitoring and managing these resources see starvation in the harsh winters and dehydration in the dry summers. They see animals running other species off from treasured water sources, they see predators also trying to stay alive eating the weaker of family groups of all animals. There are man made highways at times with high speed trucks and traffic to contend with. And the deaths that come from eating inedible plants before starvation poisoning or painfully killing the horse with brambles and sharp dry plant matter in the intestines are deeply sad to imagine.

    My wild horse had a microscopic chance of living the romantic life of freedom running beautiful green plains of wild grasses in all seasons and plenty of water – especially since the wild horse numbers alone grow every year well past sustainability in every management area- forget about elk, eagles, rabbits, wolves, and cattle. 

    No. Her options are a shortened life in harsh conditions, living in heightened alert and fear and/or lack, but basically free OR a life in a containment facility, an orphan spirit in captivity with basic needs met as best they can with the problem they are facing to manage these herds. An impossible problem.

    She will never be in want for a herd, forage or fresh water with me.

    Yet, this wild mare was chosen. She is not an orphan anymore. She has been removed from the system where there were few good outcomes and put into my kingdom (I wrote about that Kindgom in March) where she is part of the royal herd of Khaleesi… She has been set apart from the thousands of others who will face a tough life. She is cared for, has a stable healthy herd, 100% pasture turn out on many acres, medical care when required, always adequate water and forage, and someone who sees her as immensely valued regardless of her performance.

    When will she stop fighting? When will she step more fully into her purpose and destiny? 

    The truth is- I’m not even certain yet what that looks like for her, but God knows. God created this mare for a purpose, and while today she is already walking in that purpose in part as my teacher, there is more. I am convinced of that. 

    I am also convinced that horses are special. Horses thrive when honored and given honest work. Work they are capable of and can excell at. Retirement comes at a point and can be good, but a horse who doesn’t and has never have some job and purpose does not thrive the same as one who is in appropriate work.

    One of my favorite moments together.

    I don’t yet know what her work will be as we learn together what her creator had in mind, but I do believe it will come. In the fullness of time, it will come.

    And as I reflected on this, I thought about how often we humans are set apart, and called into a purpose to work together on God’s hopes and dreams on planet earth. For some it may look like raising a family, for some providing medical care in Africa, for some writing books that entertain or help, for others it’s politics and bringing better policies to school boards and government bodies, maybe it’s playing music, or stewarding the wilderness, forests and waterways… but God does have hopes and dreams to bring redemption to this planet, the people and the systems he loves, and they are always bigger than our own.

    Have I stopped fighting or fleeing his ideas yet? Am I willing to step into the “death box” and see what kind of abundant life might be after the trailer ride? Do I trust him?

    In my journal I asked who will help me? And I have come to see that “alone” I don’t have what it takes, but the good news is I am not alone. I have partnered to share in God’s hopes and dreams, and I do trust him. So I can be assured that I have every resource I need exactly when I need it to accomplish exactly the purpose at hand. So I look around and ask “where does my help come from” well, it comes from the one who made me, and made these creatures, and has all the answers to every problem. So now I get to walk out the blueprint that was set in front of me at the foundations of time and enjoy the process and the relationships, with people, with the horses, and with the creator King as well.

    And as I finish this blog, I pause. I am again reminded of the grief of the wild horse impossible problem, I take a moment to ask: Is this one of God’s hopes? That his precious creatures the wild horses will someday not suffer this way? Who is willing to ask him for the impossible answers and walk out the path that might lead to abundant life for those thousands of horses suffering today?

  • The Illusion of Choice

    The Illusion of Choice

    I ran into a friend recently who asked: are you riding a lot lately? I had to answer honestly: no. Oddly I felt like I had to clarify the answer to explain, I’ve been spending a fair amount of time with the horses, but no… I’m not riding.

    I have pressed into a season where Khaleesi is getting some rest (MENTAL), Wyoming as I mentioned recently is in “restart” mode once again (EMOTIONAL), and Hope has had a bacterial infection that seems to be resurging leaving Iva and I sensing she needs to have some down time to heal (PHYSICAL).

    Wyoming in the pen
    Hope in the field

    Horses have three major systems and it seems like I have all of them operating slightly out of balance in some form in the HH herd. What a neat opportunity, and a perfect time (early winter) to step back and ask: what can I learn from all this?

    In years past I would have been bemoaning having 3 horses and none of them in a riding state at the moment, but today I see opportunity.

    In my last blog I recounted Wyoming’s highlight reel and I continue to press in creating relationship with her. I have always believed that the challenges I have with Wyoming would make me a better horsewoman, and what I learned with her would bring me improvement in my already solid relationship with K. Today I wonder if in fact, maybe I have that backward.

    Khaleesi is the favored one. The chosen. She is the mare I cut my teeth on what it’s like to start a horse from almost untouched. She and I have grown together from not being able to lay a hand on her to competing in 50 mile distances. On our best days I can think things and she does them while riding. She is a stunning creature of strength and balance with a good mind. I appreciate her input and try to at least take her suggestions as a factor as we work together- often she has very good ones. We’ve been in some pretty tight situations over our years together, and I trust her with my life. Yet the more I examine our connection- which is pretty solid- I realize it’s much more like a business partnership than that deep thing I long for.

    In this season of giving her some down time to (you can read about this in my last greento100 blog “Rest Reset”) I only bring her in for more necessary things- which occasionally includes going in a pen to graze and hang out while I work with Wyoming. I can always “catch” my horses at least right now, but Khaleesi knows the difference when I communicate we have business and I’m haltering you versus I have something I’d like to do and am willing to have a conversation about it. When I offer more conversation, she has let me know recently that if I’m asking, then no, I’d prefer not to do whatever it is on your mind today thank you very much.

    She isn’t rude about it. And I can insist and get it done. But it brings me back to the age-old question: doesn’t a horse always prefer to graze and be with the herd if given the choice?

    Well, I have a little time this season. Maybe I can dig into this a little deeper. Maybe I can answer it at least for this horse.

    And so I began a new experiment… without a tool of control (halter/lead) or a lure (hay pellets/treats) can I bring her into the pen and convince her to carry me around in there of her own choosing?

    Can I go from a solid partnership – the illusion of choice – to a new layer of real choice where at any time she can disengage and leave without any adverse consequence?

    I went out with the halter and no real plan… well that’s not true. The first day I had big plans. I cycled through plan A, plan B and plan C before I began to see the depth of the truth.

    I had spent about an hour with the herd in the field, my curiosity at first would she choose for me to put on the halter? I was certain I could tell her that’s what we were doing and she would comply… but tolerating and choosing are not the same. She took the opportunity to kick up her heels and push the herd around the large field letting me know that her choice was not to work with me. So now I needed to begin trying to change her mind. I continued my human attempt at conversation with her where she would disengage with me but I would try again. Like unsuccessful courting… however her range of how far she would push the herd began to diminish until at least we were working in a smaller area.

    I had danced my way clumsily into her space and began to get a real honest moment with her where she would go still and relax and accept me there – when she would turn toward me slightly and even take a step in and finally there was a moment where she would stand calmly and accept that it’s likely I’ve earned some right to her time after an hour of waiting her out I saw her give up and accept that this WAS going to happen…

    And I stood next to her quietly and still, and then… walked away.

    I did not even put the halter on her. This was not part of my plan at all.

    I recently had a conversation with Katy Pistole who has a transformational approach to horses and humans where she reminded me: keep in mind that you must get away from seeing success or failure in an interaction with your horse based on their performance or what you “got done” in the session. I already believe this with my entire mind. My mental system concurs, but the truth is deep down I didn’t know HOW to live this out. What a strange thing it is to find out you are believing one thing in your mind but you can see the reality is that you don’t believe it in your depth of being.

    I was ok with changing the goal post either direction as I sort out how things are going, but this was removing the goal post and the ball. What then are we doing out here?

    And I knew: it would have looked to an outside eye like I walked around my field unable to catch my horse for an hour, apparently “gave up a failure” and yet something vitally important had occurred in that time.

    Instead of answers I had even more questions.

    How do I keep conversation with this horse going…I don’t have a lead rope, a halter, a stick, even a limited space pen where she doesn’t have 6 acres to leave into? Will she always walk away from me or ignore me without some way to connect us physically? How can I keep her interested in a connection with me with NO tool and NO lure (food)? Is this a stupid idea? What conversation should I even try to have? What are we even communicating about? Where can I get better equine language skills? I am not very non-verbal naturally – is there any hope for me?

    And yet, I was willing to try. And on the next day a few changes had already occurred. First she never ran off at a trot from me, and though she has a huge field she stayed in a relatively small area. Her retreat zone was already smaller in perimeter than the previous day.

    Also, she allowed me the space next to her much sooner and was relaxed about it, but I still felt more tolerated than welcomed. She gave me access to her “on” side where I normally would prefer to put on the halter sooner as well.

    There came a point I considered quitting for the day. I had seen improvement, but I was coming up short in the conversation department. I didn’t know what else to do, so I found myself standing quietly near her, on the off side, mind wandering a bit as she grazed… what next? I got nothing. And just then, she took a step toward me and began to nibble on the halter almost as if to have me open it up. Which I did.

    Then things got interesting.

    She began exploring the halter, and when I’d offer it open to see if she wanted to put her nose in it she would turn slightly away.

    Ok. So you want to talk about it, but aren’t looking to put your head in there quite yet.

    Then I started to go off the map for me, and began change the conversation completely.

    Let’s talk about the illusion of choice for a moment.

    I have learned a fair amount of horsemanship that using concepts of training the horse. I have worked with shaping a desired behavior with pressure release horsemanship and also with positive reinforcement (clicker/treat) training.

    In either branch of “training”, as K began to show interest in the halter I “should” reward her. Either by removing pressure/punishment release (remove the halter when she shows interest and keep it steady there when she turns away from it) or by click/treat reward to encourage learning and conversation about the halter.

    I have trained my horses to be pretty good at being haltered in both branches. I worked on asking her to lower her head into the halter with pressure-release as our foundation of horsemanship, and this summer I experimented with Positive Reinforcement (clicker/treat training or R+) and could take the halter out, stand a few feet away from the horse and if they knew it was “game time” the horse would walk over to me and put their head into the halter. Fun.

    Today as I was having a truly honest and open conversation with my lead mare, I considered an option I have not tried before: when she turns toward me and the halter, offer it more; and when she turns away, let it go and release.

    My brain began spinning as we experimented. This is essentially rewarding the horse for evading the halter. IF we are training or shaping behavior. What if there was another option? What if I really wanted to switch to trust, conversation, and freedom? If that were the case could I be rewarding her for an honest response? Now I’m in the weeds and I’m not quite sure the terrain. Yet deep down I know I want this relationship to be built on choice, but a really good illusion of choice seems to me the best we have in the other systems.

    Pressure-release says to me You get to choose as long as you choose what I want you to choose!! Great job getting the answer right! I will release you, and when you do something super amazing I will reward you the highest reward I have: I will walk away and leave you in peace. And even though R+ puts the foundation of the work in choice… we don’t reward a horse for leaving us, walking away, or making a “wrong” choice. I like this game of learning approach for some things, but it becomes a bit of a problem when I run out of hay pellets. This system is better at choice because we find out when our own request/behavior is so undesirable to the horse they walk away even in the face of getting cookies. Also I do believe this system in the long run can make a horse feel pretty good about being with the human if done well, but there’s a gap after the cookies before the honesty really comes to the surface… and in the end neither are truly freedom and choice.

    ** Let me clarify I don’t think shaping and training are bad things. Probably they are even necessary — but are they limited to anyone who has the deep dream of more? Who wants to dance instead of train? Who wants the horse to operate as one with them together? Yes we can train horses to do those things but what we really want is partnership and in shaping and training only are we kidding ourselves by creating an illusion of what looks like total connection?**

    This has bothered me at the core for a long time. Training by pressure-release and R+ are better than some old school methods of violence and force toward horses- yet there is something richer I keep feeling is missing.

    I want deeper.

    So the other day I took a plunge and decided to STOP shaping and training Khaleesi, and begin to build a different kind of relationship with her that could very well backfire on me completely at best, and depending on the horse, possible even become dangerous (not likely with K).

    Back to the field experiment…

    Khaleesi explored the halter with me on the off-side at first and if she turned her nose away I removed the halter and when she turned her nose back toward me I presented it again. I opened the noseband and she even began to put her nose slightly into it and then wiggle around.

    Like someone trying to communicate in a totally foreign sign language I thought: she wants me to put this halter and lets go do something? Maybe she’s wondering where my leadership is and why I’m standing around like I have no plan? and so I began to bring the poll piece up over her head… and then she would remove herself and I always removed the halter and let her choose when to re engage.

    We did this a couple times and then she zoned out, looked straight ahead and yawned and chewed and twisted her tongue practically in a loop as she considered the unexpected thing I was doing.

    Next she offered to reposition me on the on-side. This whole conversation continued until I was offering the halter to her with my arm already raised and she could dip her nose through my arms into the halter with my arm over her neck ready to close the poll section over her head. She would lift her head up gently and I would release the poll section and let the halter drop down. She must have done this ten times to check and make sure I meant it. It was like she didn’t really believe that I would let her release herself even from when I had the poll section through the loop- at ANY MOMENT girl, you can say: no thank you.

    This seemed to blow her mind. If I stepped back a moment she stepped closer to me. She wasn’t grazing, she was engaged in this conversation. Finally she stepped away and began to graze a moment. This was ok, it had been over an hour of field work and the last part of the conversation seemed really deep to me. It touched things in my own heart that I would need to process too. So I slowly stepped away and began to walk back to the barn.

    As I looked back I saw she had taken a few more steps toward me and was still looking intently at me. I paused, I squatted down where I was and waited. After a few moments she crossed more than half the distance between us and then stopped again- intently watching me.

    I waited a moment, and then walked over to her. She greeted me with her muzzle to my hand, and then she returned to grazing, and I walked off to the barn.

    I have struggled with the idea of solid leadership versus listening to the horse and getting with the horse so that they can get with you. I’ve heard more times than I can count that if you don’t “be the boss” — or at least in a way I prefer to think of it “be a good leader” then you are both just going to be confused.

    I think there is important truth in this. I do need to lead the conversation, however as I consider the greatest leader ever… the God who created the universe and the horse and me, I see that He tells us that great leadership is always in service. And we must serve in love. Love is patient, kind, does not demand it’s own way, is not arrogant, it is not frustrated, irritated or resentful… love rejoices in truth. Love bears all things. Love believes and hopes and endures.

    Is it possible to lead a horse this way? Some parts are obvious. Leave your ego at the door and choose humility. We know patience is vital with horses. We know being mean, mad, annoyed or frustrated will kill our ability to work together with them. Everyone I know believes kindness is important… but, does not demand it’s own way?

    If God is love… does HE NOT demand his way? Wait. Have I ever considered this as a truth? Doesn’t God actually demand we do things his way if we want to have relationship with him? Certainly he has a higher plan available if I will trust him. Just like I have a higher plan available to K if she would trust me. Horses love to graze and be with the herd, but I also believe giving them purpose is good for them, and I’ve felt her come alive in race day and sink into deep consideration when we find new balance together in the arena. Things she can’t do on her own with the herd.

    Now as I’m leaving the field my analytical mind begins clicking new gears. God doesn’t just love the world, God IS love. And then God gives us the definition of love in the famous love chapter (1 Corinthians 13). If these things are true about love… then they HAVE to be true about the character of God himself!

    Khaleesi will do just about anything and pretty willingly, but there is a part of her that she holds back. I do not have her heart, her complete trust, her spirit (or soul.. whichever is the inner being of an animal which is different from a human). We are a strong business partnership, but we lack the intimacy of a deeper connection.

    She is my mirror. The hang up as I gaze into that mirror in the field this week is that I also lack trust in intimacy. To be clear- we are not called to deep intimacy in all our relationships, but there is a calling from the heart of the creator of the universe to us to let him in- all the way in- to the deepest part of ourselves… and yet it takes time and trust to get there and intimacy cannot be forced, it must be given. Similarly Khaleesi will have to choose if I am worthy of that deeper layer of her freedom, and I will have to prove my own heart of love for her.

    Maybe this creature, this gift from the creator will help me understand and change that in a way that is healing in my own heart. Maybe HE is trying to tell me something, about how I hold back layers from his own heart of love. Probably there are changes in me that must happen before Khaleesi will sense the security and worthiness in me.

    The story is not finished yet. I don’t know if I’m on a ridiculous useless tangent or on the road to something magical. I’m going to take a chance and see where the path leads.

    And so to the field I go…