When it comes to horses, I’m a nerd about the details. I study riding---not just by reading interesting material about the process, but messy, mistake-prone, visceral experimentation pleasantly paired with intellectual observation, application, review and practice. 

This summer I started transferring years of riding theory notes from stained and torn binders (just under 10” thickness, handwritten, tiny cramped pencil with scribbled notes in the margins) into a single pretty ½” Moleskine notebook, simplifying equitation concepts that once took me pages to communicate and comprehend into far-less-lengthy succinct paragraphs and sentences. While my ½” of newly-streamlined humble notes certainly doesn’t contain the sum of equestrian knowledge by any means, it does represent that many things that were once challenging to me are now clear, understood and confirmed in my brain. It feels good.

I’m a huge believer in immersion of my senses in anything that interests me. I’ve been known to cocoon myself for years to study the basics of something so that I have the skills to advance correctly and, most importantly, with clarity of intention and application. While I advocate instruction from proven, accomplished teachers in any area of study, I know that there is no substitute for the person who is self-motivated, self-disciplined, persevering, and willing and able to work independently to achieve one's goals and dreams. 

Riding is a thing that bears glorious fruit of one’s labor in this regard.

When I began my current collection of equitation notes, I’d already been a rider (and a voracious reader of technical equestrian manuals) for over 27 years. Then, influenced by Danish trainer Bent Branderup’s view that riding is ultimately self-expressive and therefore artistic in every sense of the word, I took a blind plunge one autumn evening over a decade ago and began this journey---this deeply serious, formal period of studying equitation: recording/analyzing/pondering, obsessively reading/writing/viewing, practicing the riding process with an eagle-eyed determination---the same approach I take as a professional artist when learning a new medium, or as an art teacher the same path I recommend to any student who wants to grow and succeed. Until I began exploring Mr. Branderup’s blend of historical equitation combined with modern biomechanics and artistic freedom, I’d never thought of applying myself to riding in quite this manner.

Giving consideration and respect to riding as actual art quickly became an empowering thing in my life. Initially, however, it crushed me. 

My immediate discovery upon entering the realm of scholarly equitation was that, after all those previous years spent on horseback, I really didn’t know how to ride---I realized with overwhelming distress that I’d been transported on a horse, sitting in decent balance, going forward at will---but having little influence on the process itself for my entire life thus far. While I felt a great deal of disappointment and inadequacy at admitting this to myself (such an understatement!), I also felt an inner excitement that there were wonderful things within reach to be explored and attained. So I bravely put one foot forward and continued my studies. 

I recall the first three years of my new academic pursuit, particularly, getting up each day and going to my horse, facing immeasurable frustration, feelings of failure, humiliation by an equine, and an ongoing desire to give up. Add to this was derisive mocking from other riders who found my studious efforts weird—this included intense gossip by others about my methods, my horses, my entire person that I often had to face each and every day. Interspersed with these unfortunate things, however, were countless moments of incredible tiny successes with my horse---my expanding knowledge and efforts, thank goodness, seemed to always be unexpectedly rewarded and validated just when I would be on the verge of believing it was all a pointless pursuit. 

Gradually, I lost the fear of those negative feelings that seemed to surface so regularly—because, truthfully, there were just as many positive feelings that occurred. I became so fascinated with what I was discovering and learning each day about horses that everything else became a distant clamor easy to ignore. Soon I began to meet other people who loved to study as much as I did, and I began to see my time spent studying having an extraordinary affect upon my riding and my relationships with all horses. My support system became spare voices online from across the world, local riders with whom I could laugh with over coffee and donuts in a study group, a welcome visitor from foreign shores with whom I’d spend a delightful afternoon, the horses I worked with who sought a willing partnership with me through trust and patient education.

As time has passed, I’ve had the pleasure of teaching, training and sharing my experience in academic horsemanship with others in my area and beyond. The time I’ve put into study and practice of that studiousness has been an invaluable experience and time well spent, and not just regarding horses, but probably even more so with the human part of the equation. I can tell other riders all about the highs and lows one will experience because I’ve had to apply myself to learn independently, to discipline and guide myself, to have trust and faith that I could achieve my end goals. 

There is no sugar-coating the hard times, but there is no denying the sheer fabulousness of accomplishment we can achieve if we're willing to simply try to reach for the stars. I meet so many other riders who are eager to learn how to ride their horses well, eager to find solutions to challenges, eager to gain clarity and cooperation in their partnership with their equine friend, to learn about how its body works and its movement occurs---but....

But encouragement to study isn’t always met with enthusiasm. Human nature gets in the way. Sometimes a rider isn't accustomed or well-suited to focusing on a given topic with patient resolve--study is a slow-moving process without quick rewards. There's also the rider whose ego gets in the way--it's an unwillingness to admit one doesn't know everything there is to know about riding, or even an  inability to  realize one doesn't know what they don't know, so why study? More often riders have a simple lack of confidence in believing they can study independently and achieve anything of worth, even if they desperately desire to succeed.  In other words, it’s difficult to convince other riders that studying riding in depth is the priceless thing it is---but if you have the ambition, the drive, the desire to learn I'll hereby cheer you onwards, always. 

Get thee to the laboratory with your horse, and discover things!

For me, study continues. Over ten years after my initial commitment to uncover mysteries in horsemanship which stymied me, I still apply myself with unwavering curiosity. Nearly every day, I’m engaged in something related to horses, be that riding my own or one belonging to someone else, training on the ground, coaching, discussing, writing, reading or viewing things related to them. The truth is---that after all enormous effort and time spent applying myself, in spite of having acquired a great deal more ‘feel’ and skills these days than I used to possess---I still have lots to learn and so I get up every…single…day...and want to learn and discover more. And more and more. This intangible school of horsemanship I've enrolled myself in is one from which I'll never graduate--I'm the typical forever-student--and that's perfectly okay with me. 

It's okay because I truly love horses and I love that we can create a common language with them and that unification between our bodies and souls is possible. I love that just by applying myself, things happen and progress and my horse gets better and more beautiful though my efforts. 

In our modern world, the study of riding is a rare thing; our culture is all about fast results and instant gratification for the most part----learning about good training and the application of it takes a lot of time and patience and these things seem to be in short supply these days. Horsemanship in the academic sense encourages us to take a bit of information, put it to the test, wrap our brains around it, observe and experiment with our horses. The knowledge we gain through practice eradicates fear of our horse, fear that we lack ability to educate it, fear that we aren’t good riders—it gives us the clarity to comprehend our actions and progress upon the path towards ‘feel’ in riding and ultimately, our riding becomes a reflection of who we are to our horse. Our knowledge waters the seeds of our horse’s potential and allows it to unfold, blossom and bloom under our care. 

We are the best trainers for our horses because we love our horses best. Let that love be the driving force that compels you to study, learn, achieve.

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VLP
2016