The Bearable Lightness of Being

There have been some interesting points brought up here and over on the Equine Mind Meld page, about lightness in our horses.

I'm talking about how they ride, not how much they weigh BTW. Or how much I weigh, either. For me lightness comes through the entire horse, through all of me, and joins into an instantaneous awareness and response to each other.

This is the goal I work towards, with every horse, on every ride.

My thoughts about lightness started back with my first horse Mort. He wasn't all that well trained, I didn't know what I was doing and he didn't feel obligated to tell me much. What we did have was time. Endless hours and years of experience together. I rode bareback most of the time and got tough enough to spend all day in the hills and not start to ache until the sun began to sink behind Pikes Peak.

We swam, we jumped, we ran, we walked (once in a while) and the togetherness, combined with our breakneck approach, combined to create a rhythm between us. One that kept me firmly anchored on his back and Mort able to tell the difference between a squeeze from my calf to make a turn and a grab from my legs to keep myself astride.

I certainly never thought about our relationship as one of lightness. If you ever tried to hang onto Mort in the spring when his blood was up you'd understand. It was a lot like water skiing behind a barge. There were plenty of waves to knock me over, enough power to about rip my arms out and absolutely no control of direction.

We still had lightness. He would always stand stock still while I lit a cigarette (please don't tell my mom). He would trot and lope with, what I swear was, just a thought from me. We could be flying through a field and I could guide him through rocks or trees with barely a shift o my weight. I could feel where he was going by a muscle twitch and tell what was coming by the flick of his ear. This, to me, is lightness.

As an adult I went and got all trainerly. I learned to expect a response to each action, I learned to create action, where my seat bones should be place, what parts of the horse separate parts of my body controlled.

I walked into a world where I could take my horsemanship and the horses I rode further than I had ever imagined possible.

I also became clunky and unsure of myself. I had to relearn timing, find a new feel, everything was new and awkward.

My horses eventually became loaded with tricks and buttons, but none of them had the instinctive lightness I had shared with Mort.

As the years went by and I became more technically advanced I kept going back to the feel of Mort.
Sonita, bless her non - conforming heart, and I eventually got there. It was through her I started to really think about training horses. Why was I doing it? What did I want for me and the horses I rode? I wanted to compete. I wanted knowledge. Most of all I wanted the lightness I felt with Mort in all aspects of riding. Not just once in a while, not at my horse's whim, but I wanted that near mind reading experience at all phases.

So, I started looking for it. I'm beginning to think I'm closing in on it.

I know developing extreme lightness takes time.

It takes practice and deep thinking.

It takes dissecting what we learn and truly understanding the purpose behind it. Then strategically using what works.

I'll be exploring this over the next few posts, I'm going deep on this one. After our story telling of course.