by Dennis Bright
Time. There never seems to be enough of it during these early days of fall. As
the leaves begin to turn and the pumpkins ripen on the vine, I feel a sense of urgency in
the air. The phone has been ringing of the hook for days now as people have begun to
realize that those summer plans for learning how to ride or buying that new horse are
quickly slipping away. It seemed only a few months ago we were celebrating Thanksgiving
and yet it's right around the corner once again.
I sometimes envy our horses' simplistic lives. I often talk about the difference
between "people-time" and "horse-time." When I'm on horse-time, the
clock slows to a crawl and the minutes blend together like the soothing rhythm of
hoof-beats. When riding, I live in the moment, focused on the feel of the horse beneath
me. At that very instant, I am so alive and aware of my body, my senses are charged with
the energy of the horse. I know without a doubt who I am. That feeling is so hard to find
in today's non-stop 24-hour world of pagers, cell phones, faxes and e-mail. I know because
I live there, too.
Here's the challenge; in less then four generations, we have gone from an agrarian
society to living on the "information superhighway" and for most of us, there is
no turning back. We are still running around in caveman bodies yet living in a
sophisticated techno-based information age, no wonder we're confused. Our bodies are
designed to survive by interacting with nature as hunters and gatherers. Yet most of the
people I know have to spend fifty hours a week behind a desk staring at a computer screen
in a 8x10 cubicle and the only exercise they're able to get is mental.
I'm constantly helping my students work through their frustration as they struggle
physically to coordinate their movements with the horse. I often hear, "I know
mentally what I'm supposed to do, I just can't control my feet while concentrating on my
hands," or "I can't make my body do that," and my favorite, "I can't
stop bouncing and my butt hurts!" The good news is that with enough saddle time and
positive coaching the bumpy trail begins to smooth out. I explain it this way; when we
first learned how to walk we did so on a solid surface by balancing on the balls of our
feet and holding our arms out to the side. Then as we became more confident we started to
bend at the knee and speed up our body movements, until eventually we were able to run,
jump and play and our physical coordination was second nature, as long as we were on solid
ground.
As everyone who attempts to ride a horse learns, the laws of balance on the ground do
not apply on the horse, for a very simple reason. The horse is the one who is balancing on
the ground and the rider must counter-balance the horse's movement. Think of it this way,
instinctively the rider will attempt to balance as if on the ground, by pushing the balls
of their feet down (giving them a toe down position) and bringing their arms up,
elbows
out, then dropping their eyes and chin to watch the horse (which is like trying to drive
while looking through the hood ornament of your car). When a rider assumes this fetal
position, they completely lose the rhythm of the horse and begin to fall forward onto the
horse's neck (or backwards) giving up control of the horse, not exactly the experience
they had in mind.
Well here's the secret for everyone who would like to teach themselves how to ride; do
just the opposite of what your body is trying to do. Remember to counter-balance the
horse's movements. I know, easier said than done, but once you master the balancing act of
riding, you'll become one of those who appreciate the beauty of the relationship between
humans and horses, which started over 7,000 years ago.
Last modified: Sunday, July 28, 2002