The Ongoing Cycle of Always Being Wrong

Owning horses is one of the most humility inducing lifestyles on the planet. I'm convinced. Riding dressage, doubly so. In fact, it often feels like riding dressage is an ongoing circle of making the same mistakes over and over again. This is a story of just that. It's a difficult story to tell, but I share it in the hopes that others will learn and think about their own riding and horsemanship.

I'm sorry, buddy. I know. I wish my lessons would sink in forever, too.

Last fall, I put Bast back to work after his extended vacation time. He came back very well, but his tension in the bridle was still evident. I'd resolved to fix his mouth gaping issues or find him a new job outside of the dressage ring. With that in mind, I implemented a ton of training tools, including lunging in side reins. I used this as a time to experiment with different bits, in the off chance that biting issues were at the base of the issue.

I tried both side reins and vienna reins. Eventually I settled on the side reins, as I wanted to really test whether Bast would take the contact with different bits.

The lunging made a huge difference in Bast's confidence, and went a long way towards building our working relationship. The little guy really started looking forward to our work time. Mostly because of the sweet feed I took to stuffing in my pockets and unloading into his mouth. Unfortunately, I realized his mouth gaping issues weren't 100% bit selection. So, I chose one of the bits he found least offensive (a Balkenhol KK), and went back to riding.

This is where the true repetition of past mistakes reared its head. I forgot what contact is really about, how it feels, and that releasing and feel are a huge part of that conversation.

This was a really difficult ride. Bast kept dumping on his forehand, and ripping at the my hands with his open mouth. His balance would fall when he'd do this, and we'd spiral into bracing against each other. I was too weak in my seat and body to support his young horse needs, and too restrictive in the hand to allow him to balance himself without my support. Thankfully, this ride is when my brain finally started thinking instead of thinking it already knew how to proceed.

During a particularly tough ride where Bast and I both fed into each others weaknesses, I gave into pulling. I know pulling isn't the way to establish contact, but I let myself get carried away thinking my horse was "evading me". I'm ashamed to admit, I blamed the horse instead of looking to my own issues. I stopped releasing all-together and tried to push Bast into my tight hand. He recoiled, eventually telling me in no uncertain terms that he was done with that noise.

Hey friends. You want a horse to rear on you? This is how you make that happen. Don't let your human brain get you to this point. Listening to your horse and your own body is a critical part of riding. Don't skip it.

I quit the ride really frustrated with both Bast and myself. I allowed myself to admit my shortcomings and mistakes, and tried to come up with alternative training ideas. This lead to me riding Bast for two weeks exclusively on a loose rein. While we did 20m circles, navigated around the traffic of a busy indoor, and walk/trot/cantered our way through the world, the reins draped and flopped on his neck. I didn't even attempt to pick them up and establish "a connection."

To my utter surprise, he was perfect.

Now, don't get me wrong. We definitely almost crashed about 20 times in the first ride of this experiment. However, I quickly realized the horse I've been a little worried would bolt on me no longer exists. It turns out, I've trained the horse and instilled confidence. He is ready for trust, and I have been completely ignoring that. I now have a willing partner, much more likely to try to stop when things get confusing or off balance. This poor little horse had no idea he was actually supposed to be listening and responding to my body aids, and would respond by falling out of balance and stop. Oops. That's my fault. It's also a problem that is not solved with the reins.

Thankfully, I do know how to solve that issue. I needed to teach Bast to listen to my seat, weight, and leg aids to find his balance and cues for direction and bend.

I've continued riding Bast with an extremely light touch on the reins. To start, pulling or mouth gaping from his end was met with complete rein release, and a little bit of forward encouragement. Though first, I worked to solidify my own position and balance, making sure I was supporting him and not contributing to the issue. Then, I left the door open for him to fall on his own face, or choose to listen to my balance and hold himself upright. Unsurprisingly, he chose to listen. As time has gone on, he's learned to tune into my body cues first. This is so exciting. This is where dressage truly starts.

A moment of imbalance. Note. Horse not falling on face. Instead, he's reorganizing to step under my weight in a calm forward way. This is success.

Ride after ride, Bast has continued to improve. He no longer blows off my body aids. He started closing his mouth on the bit. He started letting me play with working off multiple pressures from my body aids. Amazingly, he's also started to come into contact.

This lesson in riding with Bast hurts because I've lived this lesson before. It's a thing I know deep in my bones. It's also a thing I apparently forgot. Trust me. Pig and I went through this same learning moment a decade ago. Pig would be so disappointed in me.

I mean that. Here's a photo of me from 10 years ago pulling on poor Piggy in an attempt to get him to connect to the rein aid. Thankfully for this saint of a horse, I did learn to support good contact and we ended up being being pretty legit partners. Thankfully for me, Piggy is naturally really balanced, and never let me throw him off his game. He just yelled at me and got hollow ... so hollow.

It's been a month of riding Bast in contact again, and he's been amazing. His gaits are getting more rhythmic and balanced. He's still coming right up to me in the field, and shoving his face in the halter. Best of all? His mouth is staying closed on the reins and his body is staying relaxed in the work.

Riding in better balance with longer reins and more releases is a really hard habit to get into, but it's so rewarding when it works.

I'm so annoyed with myself for riding in a way I know isn't right for my horses. I hate causing stress to my animals because of my own dumb choices and actions. I'm forever thankful they call me on my dumb moments, forgive me, and move forward with such grace and love. Horses are freaking amazing. We have to be careful to both not beat up on ourselves, but also to keep thinking and trying to be self aware enough to fix our own mistakes. We must do this for the horses, as well as for ourselves. This sport is very hard, but we can't allow ourselves to think we are the experts. We must be able to recognize our own mistakes, admit them, and make changes for the better. This doesn't just make us better riders, this is what makes us better people.

And that's why I love this humility inducing sport so much.