Awareness of the outside world. FEI: Heidemarie DRESING, Major Results, “World Championship CH-M-PED Aachen (GER) – Para Grand Prix A II, POESIE 143, 1″. Translation from FEI speak: First place at Aachen at the age of 71.
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In which I ponder my response to lessons and how my brain works. This may not be of interest to anyone else on the planet. Much navel gazing follows. You have been warned.
I had a good lesson. [Back To The Goldy Mine]
Why?
Physical
I have always liked walking to start off a ride. Previous Horse and I used to do a lap of the field before adjourning to the ring. It’s a good way to ease the body into the activity, both for rider and horse.
Since the kid in my lesson was relatively new, her mount didn’t always do as the rider wanted. So I wandered over to walk with them and chat.
After a few laps of this, I decided to trot. Then canter. A bit this way. A bit that way.
Generally, we started off slowly.
Mental
The slow start also accomplished something else. I was making my own decisions.
In a hunter/jumper lesson, you wait for the group to gather and then get started. We might walk a little, but never as long as I would on my own. Then, trot and canter as a group. In an ASB lesson, you trot from the gate. In each case, I am doing what the instructor says when they say to do it. My hypothesis is when I do this some part of my brain fails to engage.
In hindsight, we already know this is a bad way for me to operate. When we first started showing together, my wonderful husband would step up as a wonderful groom. He would do all manner of work. Then I would get on. And sit like a lump. I wasn’t making decisions before I got on. I wasn’t making decisions after I got on. When we show now – or used to, but I digress – I do all my own work. Husband sits, which is actually hard for him. I ride so much better.
If this is true of grooming, why wouldn’t it be true for lessons?
The need to make my own decisions does not arise from a fierce desire for independence. I am perfectly happy to sit about like a princess and have my groom get my horse ready. Similarly, I will defer to perceived authority at the raise of an eyebrow. Nine years of nuns will do that to a person. It’s just that if I do either of these things, my brain gets stuck in passive mode. And, apparently, I am willing to let that happen.
If I have to think for myself, I start thinking for myself.
Social
Husband is of the opinion that I show off for the kids. I don’t think it’s conscious, but he probably has a point. He usually does. [Group or Solo]
In this instance, reaching out to someone else gave my brain something else to focus on. It also gave me a chance to pontificate, which I will never turn down. That’s one of my standard lines when I am introducing people to the horse world. Horsepeople love to talk.
I don’t think it’s age as much as skill level. A hot-shot kid on a fancy pony would be a different ring companion than a beginner adult.
Yes, I made sure the other rider had a chance to speak.
Other
Simple luck of the draw. Had a good ride.
So Now What?
Take ownership and make my own decisions.
Obviously, its more complicated than that. I already do to some extent. Nothing is clear cut one way or the other. But I think not getting my brain engaged is a factor.
I’m not going to change the lesson format. Nor am I likely to change me at this age. As long as I am working with others, I will have to institute any changes with their framework. I’ll let you know how it goes.
Onwards!
Katherine
Virtual Brush Box 