Thursday, April 4, 2013

The Maze--Thoughts on the Journey of Horsemanship


I am not a visual thinking person most of the time.  My mind works in numbers and letters.  I see schedules and calendars, words and number lines.  But one of the most persistent images that appears to me regarding the pursuit of horsemanship is a maze.  I see a large labyrinth, green and bushy with twists and turns and no clear path.  Some paths lead to the center—the goal, which is pure harmony of horse and rider—and some are false starts.  The farther one travels down a dead end, the closer the briary bushes come to the skin.  Eventually, the horseman on the wrong path finds himself closed off, backed into a corner.  There are two ways out, he can push through the thorns and undergrowth, through the very wood of the trees and risk ruining himself and the horse in the process or he can backtrack—carefully retracing his steps until the path clears and another way opens up. 
            Many of the false starts are appealing in the beginning.  Disguised as easy fixes or mechanical devices, the dead-end paths lure many trainers.  With every thorny cut, or hopefully before blood is drawn, the horseman learns to recognize the wrong path.  Eventually, he can identify wrong turns quickly after, or even before, they are made.  I think of this as following a feel.  When riding and searching for lightness or harmony with the horse, a creative rider adapts.  He may add more of one leg or rein, use more seat or change the tempo of the gait.  If he listens, the horse will instruct him which change works and lead the rider to the correct path.  Wrong paths are often identified by increases in the horse’s tension.  We all know the signs of grinding teeth or wringing tails but it may be more subtle, such as leaning on one rein or becoming lazy on one leg.  The more a trainer attunes to his horse, the quicker the right path or the right feel will become natural.
            As a horseman progresses down a path, if his work is studious and correct, the labyrinth behind him straightens into a wide boulevard.  He can easily see the false starts for what they are and he can follow that right path again and again.  A generous person also learns to instruct others in the correct way.  A good teacher of horsemanship shares his mistakes and protects his students from making them as well.  He lights the way ahead for those who follow.
            For the student following his mentor, the lighted way varies.  Sometimes it beams like a spotlight.  Every student experiences those “lightbulb moments” when the right way becomes blindingly obvious.  The follower wonders how he could have missed it originally.  Those spotlights are easy to follow and illuminate both what came before and future lessons.  For example, once a rider is aware of the timing of a horse’s feet and how to influence the movement, many paths are open.  Application of that knowledge is broad and lights the way down difficult portions of the labyrinth.
            No matter how far a student progresses, there are times when the way ahead is obscure.  Sometimes a trainer recognizes the false starts surrounding him but is unsure of the right path.  He continues to retrace his steps in a confusing circle, avoiding the obvious dark paths but still not approaching the light.  A conscientious horseman may keep his horse out of the thorny bushes but not progress any further.  Here is where the mentor leads the student out of his never-ending circle.

            In these moments, there is no spotlight.  Instead, I envision the teacher leading the student through the maze by a lamp that flickers and is hard to see.  The student must follow closely, feeling the way and surrendering his thoughts until the path opens to him.  Trust must be implicit between leader and follower, as often the path goes against the student’s initial idea.  But as they progress, the student finds and recognizes the purity of the right way.
            These lessons are often difficult for both teacher and student.  If a rider was busy circling around, avoiding pitfalls, and is guided ahead by his mentor, learning takes time.  The student wonders if the way will remain open behind him or block the return path.  I think of these as the “mindblowing” moments; the student knows something remarkable just happened but much processing is required.  These are the lessons one goes home and “chews on”, mulling over and over.  I think that as skills progress, a student has more difficult lessons than easy.  The details become finer and harder to see and the expectations rise.  Here is where real horsemen are tested; many faint-hearted riders take a false path and burst through with force or give up altogether the pursuit of harmony.
            In my mind, a student of horsemanship lives in this maze every day.  The path behind him is clear and he is confident of what he has learned.  By listening to his horse, he can identify wrong paths more and more quickly.  The lightbulb moments keep him coming back to the maze.  He loves the euphoria of a clear, open path when moments before it was thorny bushes.  But the real learning between master and student occurs by lamplight.  A good teacher leads a student by shaping the way slowly, opening each branch before him and allowing him to touch it.  The student surrenders to the teacher, feeling his way behind him and remembering the path.
            I am so grateful for the horsemen who have lit my path.  I am lucky to have worked with a few good trainers and maybe even a great one.  Through their painstaking explanations and exercises, I have progressed into the labyrinth, leaving an open road behind me.  I hope to repay those who helped me by illuminating others not as far down the road as myself.  I am hopeful that I can navigate the maze successfully, landing on a wide plain of harmony between horse and rider.
            This wide plain is a horseman’s nirvana, where all becomes clear and the barriers between man and horse melt.  During every journey, the rider glimpses rare moments of clarity when the horse follows his very thoughts.  This is what keeps so many of us coming back to the maze.  I wish every traveler good luck on his or her journey. My advice is to stay true to your instincts and listen to your horse.  Just as importantly, one must find the right master and follow him closely through the sticky parts.

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