Saturday, June 14, 2014

What has fear got to do with it? Contemplation on horseback.

For many years now I have struggled with fear when I ride my horse. This was not always the case, as when I was in my teens and 20’s I would jump on any horse, the more spirited the better, and gallop off, never a thought of falling, never even occurred to me then.

I stopped riding for 20 years and then at age 45 I bought a 2 year old Arabian mare. I was dismayed when I found myself trembling with fear when I got on her to ride.

Backing up a bit, I did train her from a 2 year old.  In her 4th year of age, after 2 years of ground work, I began to ride her.  She was great, only a few bolts and spurts over the years, but mostly really good.  Yet, fear assailed me.  I could diminish it by faking confidence as I rode.  I just keep riding, mile after mile, year after year, and it did diminish, yet never really left me.

My beautiful Arabian mare, who, after 10 years of riding her and working with her, become lame as a result of arthritis in the knee.  She was young, at 14, when it lamed her.  But a small percentage of horses will get this at this young age. 

So, I bought a 3 year old beautiful Quarter Horse mare, this one a red dun.  She had already been trained so I could begin riding her right away.  I felt very confident on this calm young mare.  The fear was mostly gone when I rode her.  Then when we were out on the trail one day she spooked and reared.  After that, I corrected her rearing by using a running martingale to remove the habit of throwing her nose it the air.  A year of this and she no longer reared.  However, she has bolted and bucked on a few other occasions and though I rode her out and stopped her, the fear rose up in me again.

Finally, one morning in the arena I began our ride at the walk along the fence line, as we had done many times before. Suddenly, she shied and bolted sideways, seeing something outside the arena. 

It is amazing how a horse can go from a calm relaxed walk to 25 miles per hour in one graceful movement. If you have never experienced the sensation it is a slight drop of the horse’s body under you, you feel weightless for a moment, then the sensation of  taking flight, pegasus on the wing.  However beyond this graceful surge comes the bucking, as it is instinctual for horse to kick back when they run away from a predator.  This action is meant to keep the lion at bay, or if lucky take out its teeth. 

Being thrown back by the suddenness of this surge, and my fault for not sitting as straight as I should have been, I could not regain my seat.  

There she was, my beautiful mare, flying across the arena, kicking back, as in bucking, violently.  In mere moments she reached the other side of the arena. There at the fence, in a magnificent athletic display, she shied and bolted sharply to the right; she really should be a barrel horse. 

This last movement tipped my bouncing body sideways, that last bit of no recovery.  My hands grasping at the saddle, it was an Australian saddle so no horn, I realized I was not going to be able to stay on.  Indeed, I remember the moment of my decision to give up trying.  

I forever look back on that moment and wonder, if I had tried harder to stay on, could I have?    

The image is seared in my memory of my leg coming over the saddle and my praying my foot would be released from the stirrup.  It is amazing what goes through the mind in mere seconds.  When I saw the stirrup falling away from my boot, I sighed with relief.  From the moment I was on my way down, from leaving the saddle, after the thoughts of stirrups and dragging, I thought, I am going to hit the ground on my back. Then, I waited for impact.  It came.  I slammed onto the ground, just as expected, my middle back hitting first, the rest of me followed.  I hit hard; gravity and a bag of bones, muscle and fluids. 

As I lay taking stock of my body, I took notice of the sounds of my beautiful mare, Sherakai, running frantically around the arena behind me, her hooves pounding the sand.  I rolled onto my side shielding my helmeted head in case she stepped on me. 

Later my partner, Amy, said my beautiful young mare was beside herself that I had dismounted her so ineloquently. 

As I lay in the sand, I took inventory; nothing was broken. I sighed with relief; no hospital bills.

I have a tough little body that I thank everyday.  No, I was not given all the things we women wish for to fulfill our image of beauty. But boy has my body taken me everywhere I wished to go, healed from every wound, recovered every bump, bruise, muscle pull, strain, returned to full movement from frozen shoulders, corrected the pain of plantar fasciitis, and not a bone would break when I took a tumble.  My tough little body has always returned me to grace. 

Back to the arena.  I rose and amazed that I was ok, I limped, (well, yes I was ok but shaken and pulled my groin muscle coming over the saddle,) to my mare, who Amy was now holding. 

Yes, I did indeed get back up into the saddle. One must.  However, now my fear was raging.  I was trembling, fear was affirmed.  Soon, in minutes, I got back off. 

Sherakai was frightened too, that predator had dragged me off her back!  She was just trying to save us. Not her fault I could not stay on. 

Never blame the horse.

She did not mean to buck me off.  She is a kind soul, yet had become more and more afraid of the world, out there.

I would like to note here for you horse people that I had her teeth checked after this event and we found she had sharp points that were shredding the insides of her mouth. I use a side pull bitless bridle, with a soft nose band, not rawhide.  Even so, the pressure of the noseband on her sore mouth had made her sensitive and the pain made her jumpy. Having her teeth floated removed this irritation.

It has been several months now since that fear affirming event.  I have been riding my mare and helping her become more calm with a calming herb, valerian, and magnesium, L-tryptophan, Vitamin B1. It is working for her. 

But, I am still afraid.

Riding her the other day I was struck by how I battle my mind, which plays images of what might be when I settle myself into the saddle.  She might just bolt, any second now. 

But, she isn’t bolting, she is walking along nicely. 

“Be in the moment,” I keep telling myself, “with what is happening now.  If a bolt happens then I will be in that moment and handle it.”  I council myself. 

I am out there riding my lovely mare. The sky is a clear blue above. I gaze at Mt. Baldy in the distance.  The sun is warm. 

“Maybe I should be the one taking calming herbs?”  I think. 

Riding along, just me and Sherakai, I keep bringing myself back, away from my mind’s urgent fantasies of doom, to the present moment where all is well. 

The present moment, on Sherakai's strong straight back, feeling the sway of her stride, just in this moment.

Then it accured to me. What does fear have to do with any of this?  

I am riding her now, she is calm. If she bolts I will take up one rein and circle her to slow and stop her. We have practiced this a hundred times and she knows the cue. 

All of this is simply being in the present moment and if something should occur, a shy or a bolt, then in that moment it is simply athleticism; the act of balancing, taking the reins and arresting her movement.

Fear, I realized, is simply in the way, it is of no use. 

The way is being in this moment and athleticism. That is all. 

This realization lifted the fear completely away from my being.  I was stunned to feel the freedom from the ever-present fear and replacing it was a confidence that all is well and all will be well, no matter what happens, as long as I remain in the present moment without emotion, as in fear, clogging the works.

 Ya hoo! 

I rode along amazed at how this changed everything.

Then the fear, its sharp tipped tentacles, grasping at the edges of my consciousness, inched back.  Amazed at feeling those pricking little claws worming their way in, I wondered, why?  Since I realized the fear was useless in my riding, why would it, how could it, come back? 

I mean, when we are children once we realize there is no Santa Claus you can never go back. Well, you try to go back, but you can’t. 

So why, how, could the fear come back?  When I know it is useless, I wondered.

Then it struck me, as my mare lifted her head at a bluster of wind and I left my contemplation to be ready, grasping the rein... incase... just incase... My mind took off then, creating visions of bolts and bucks and...

But my mare lowered her head and not changing her stride blew out her tension and continued along.  My mellow, L-tryptophan, magnesium, valerian, mare.

I had left the moment and allowed my mind to create pictures with the brush and paint of fear.

Returning to my contemplation of the why of fear remaining when I knew the truth now. The answer came clearly: habit.

I am in the habit of being in a state of fear when on my horse.  It is a comfy, well not so comfy, just a way of being that is familiar.  I am simply used to always allowing my mind to run off with images of doom when I am on my horse. 

Yes, I had a profound realization and I felt the truth and freedom of it. 

But the habit of fear has been part of me for a long time. 

Now, realizing this, I must kick the habit of fear. 

How to do that?

I will just keep practicing being in the moment and retain the knowledge that fear is a waste of attention and energy.  That being in the moment of athleticism, pure action, with no emotion attached, will produce the best result.

Even if I do fall, fear isn't going to catch me or save me.  It never has, never can.

It will disappear with time, I have no doubt, as I no longer have need or want of it.


Happy trails.