Thursday, September 10, 2009

dazzling

This says it all, to me.


Every day I walk out into the world / to be dazzled, then to be reflective.



My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird —
equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.

Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young, and still not half-perfect? Let me
Keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work

which is mostly standing still and learning to be astonished.

- Mary Oliver, from "Messenger" in Thirst (2006)

Tuesday, September 08, 2009

the brave and happy life

Happiness comes more from loving than being loved; and often when our affection seems wounded it is only our vanity bleeding. To love, and to be hurt often, and to love again -- this is the brave and happy life.

-J.E. Buchrose


The phrase "brave and happy life" sticks with me. I'm not sure what I have to say about it here, but it sounds like the kind of life I'd like to live.

This morning after equine breakfasts I put Salina, Rafer Johnson, and Redford into their stall and paddock area so I could have the barn aisle free for chores. It was a cool morning, but I'm still turning on the fans out of habit and I like having them on when I muck.

I've developed a routine of cleaning out Salina's stall first, while they're all eating (she eats in the middle stall, which I think of as the donkeys' stall, and the donkeys eat in the barn aisle) so that when she and the donkeys are done they can move into the clean stall with the paddock and I can have the barn aisle free to do the rest of my chores.

Usually I muck, clean out the hay manger, de-web with a damp broom, and then serve hay.

After I move Salina and the donkeys over, I shift to the opposite side of the barn and start with whichever of the geldings finish first. As they finish up, I let them into their paddock and move on with the stalls.

Cody generally gets moved out of his stall during the summer days so I try to get him set up first, with his stall door closed so he can lie down for a nap and munch his hay without needing to pay attention to his back door.

Periodically I let Keil Bay come into the barn aisle with me, with the barn doors open to the big barnyard so he can saunter in and out. I don't know why he loves this so much, but he takes great joy in grazing the barnyard, snacking on the round bale, and then marching into the barn aisle to check in with me. His comings and goings create a nice rhythm to the work, and when I'm done I can either tack him up and ride or groom/check his feet/etc. before letting him back into his stall/paddock.

The only bravery associated with the morning was the management of a black widow spider. Otherwise it was one more happy day with the horses. (and of course, the donkeys too!)

Saturday, September 05, 2009

long weekend, lots to do

Today husband and I drove over to the dressage show to sell two pairs of outgrown but still in good shape riding boots, and we got to sit and watch a few rides afterward. The ones we saw were lower level tests, and either the horses were strung out, the riders were unbalanced, or both. It was not inspiring.

However, I did get to meet the horse I'm thinking of as my "dream horse in training" and had a nice conversation with Cindy Sydnor, who rode him in third level 1 early this morning. It's always a treat to talk with Cindy, and the dream horse is BIG and yes, a bay. He does not look like Keil Bay in person, but he has a similar curious and self-assured demeanor that made me smile. He licked my hands, he took my purse, he took husband's camera bag, he picked up a camp chair and waved it around. None of this was done wildly. It was fun meeting him, as I've kept my eye on him for two years now. Keil Bay's former owner/rider bred this horse, and for whatever reason it's in my head that he's like a younger brother to Keil, although he's not related at all, other than being the same breed.

I have three big outdoor chores and three big indoor chores on my list of things to do. Daughter has a pony club activity early tomorrow morning. In spite of this, we played a game of Settlers of Catan and finally, as it approaches 6:30 p.m., I'm going to get to that to do list!

Wednesday, September 02, 2009

goodbye cavesson

This morning after barn chores I was amazingly free of sweat, Keil Bay had finished eating breakfast and was munching on hay, and the temps were in the low 70s... so I decided to psychologically make the switch to our autumn routine, which means riding happens after equine breakfast but before human lunch.

Keil Bay loves this routine. It's obvious that in his life before me, his rides were generally in the morning. He knew instantly when I put Salina and the donkeys on their side of the barn that he was in line for a ride.

My son had groomed all the horses earlier, so all I had to do was pick feet and tack up. When I got the bridle on and was buckling the cavesson, I had my hand inside the buckle so I could feel how tight it was. Keil opened his jaw and I realized that even with my setting the buckle to the first hole, which is where I normally put it, his jaw can't open all the way. Because of where my hand was, I felt it in a way I don't think I ever have before. So in that one moment, I decided to remove the cavesson and ride without it.

A big thank you needs to be said to Ann and Jeeves, at Transitions, because it was Ann who told me she'd removed Jeeves' cavesson long ago. For some reason it had never occurred to me to just remove the thing - I had been thinking of buying a western bridle! A good example of how we can get stuck with "the way things are" to the degree that we can't even perceive how easy change often is.

Anyway, this morning I realized it was time, so I unbuckled the cavesson, slid it off Keil Bay's head, and watched him explore his new freedom from the noseband.

I'm guessing he has never been in a bridle without one.

He immediately opened his mouth as wide as he could, just to test it. He did a huge dramatic yawn. He lifted his nose up and jiggled the bit around in his mouth. He lowered his head and shook it from side to side. (for a moment I thought the bit was going to come out, but it didn't)

He had a look of complete amazement in his eyes. Suddenly there was nothing there but the headstall and the bit, and he couldn't quite believe it.

Off we went to the arena. I can't attribute everything to the lack of cavesson - last night was the coolest we've had since spring, fall is definitely in the air, and I'm sure Keil Bay was feeling all of that as much as I was. Still, he seemed excited and eager to move, and he was freer in the head and neck than he normally is when we start out.

I've tried bitless bridles with Keil and he didn't like them. He does enjoy when I ride with halter and clip-on reins, but today's experiment without the cavesson is the most successful change I've made in terms of bridling.

He has always fussed when I buckle the noseband. The only worse thing was the flash, which I removed years ago. He hated that thing, even when it was buckled so loosely it dangled under his chin. And the cavesson is not as bad, but he always bobs his head when I buckle. And now that frustration is gone.

I cleaned it up and hung it beneath his bridle, with the flash. The bridle looks so bare! But I think this is how we'll be riding, at least for now.

Monday, August 31, 2009

ending the day on a lovelier note, with Klimke and Ahlerich



Look at Ahlerich's floppy ears! That is a relaxed horse.

*******

I'd like to add that part of the reason I posted all these videos is to offer an alternative view to the mainstream opinion that Gal's ride is what we who study dressage should emulate.

The other reason is that I want to make sure that anyone who reads here when I write about loving the study of dressage clearly understands what it is I'm studying. NOT what is being seen with Totilas. I want no association with that.

For me, it's about developing a relationship with the horse, and then working together to become balanced and light, with a mutual language that is invisible to anyone watching.

The definition of dressage in my experiential dictionary is a minute or so about a year and a half ago, when I was riding Keil Bay up the long side of our arena. It was chilly, but we were both warmed up and enjoying the warmth of the sun on our bodies as we worked. We were trotting, and as we came onto that long side, something clicked perfectly. He offered his back, and I received it with my seat. Suddenly the sitting trot was effortless.

About mid-way up the long side he slowed into passage. I didn't even realize what we were doing. All I knew was that suddenly we were in perfect harmony, and we seemed to be moving in slow motion.

We had stepped outside time, together, and entered Joy.

In the moment all I could think was that what was happening was so beautiful we had both acted together to purposefully make it last longer. It took what felt like a very long and very perfect time to get to the end of that long side, and when we did, the passage ended.

That's the dressage I'm studying. And in a competition, as an observer, I want to see some evidence that horse and rider have found the joy of harmony at home, in their quiet space, and that they have done it enough times together they can bring some shred of it to a competitive arena, to let all of us in on the secret.