Guest Blog post # 17: "The Watcher" by Amy Wright

Standing by the door to the indoor, leaning over the fencepost, "She needs to lower her hands," "That bit is way too strong for that horse," "Those two are not a good match,"  "That horse is just plain dangerous."
 
Many, probably most, of us have either been the one leaning on the fence or the one riding haplessly around the ring  trying to maintain some semblance of control, or both.  And if we haven't said the words out loud, we've probably thought them, knowing that we shouldn't, knowing that the rider is doing her or his level best and that perhaps that combo of horse and rider is not one of choice, but of last resort for either or both of them.
 
The most loathsome Watcher, though, is the one inside our own heads.  The one telling us that we are not doing enough, that we are not good enough, or that something awful is going to happen any moment.  That Watcher is the one who distracts us from the joy of the moment, who separates us from the magic that we have the chance to experience on horseback.  Even George Morris says that riding is fun (I highly recommend you watch his bareback demos from his recent clinic on usefnetwork.com, they start about 30 minutes into each group on day 4).  It is supposed to be fun  for both horse and rider.
 
Not long ago, it occurred to me that, in the long run, I am really the only one obsessing about what I do and/or don't do with my horses.  If someone  else is out there obsessing about us, then they are clearly in need of some better entertainment.  It doesn't mean that it isn't a nice thing when someone notices I haven't been around for a few days, or gets concerned or perplexed by my "methods" (I don't take the most conventional approach to horse training - though saying that I have a "method" is a bit of a stretch…).  But I really don't think any of my friends are saying or thinking "Well, I don't know why she thinks Paco could ever be an event horse, I mean clearly Amy needs a horse that has been there and done that so that she can actually learn to ride".  Well, actually, a lot of my friends might be saying or thinking that, but I ride Paco and Siri because I love them and I am learning so much from figuring out how to teach them things.  I have some aspirations - perhaps, someday, I will event at Training Level, or more likely, I won't, but I might if I follow the proper steps along the way and if my horses give me clues that we are up for that.
 
The real issue that I have with the Watcher is that she/he gets in the way.  We ride because it is fun.  We ride because horses nurture us.  We ride because it is sometimes a little bit scary and we are euphoric when all goes well.  For good or ill, horses learn much faster than humans do and they are evolutionarily predisposed to being incredibly sensitive.   They sense fear, they sense excitement, they sense anger and frustration, and they sense joy and fun. Much like us, they want to be safe.  If they sense that we are afraid of something, their nervous systems pick up on that and go into high alert.  Their Watcher exists to keep them alive.  All of this doesn't mean that some of them don't sometimes decide that they just are not in the mood to get on the trailer or jump that particular fence, but most of the time, if they refuse to do something it is because they are worried for their own and perhaps even their rider's well being.
 
In the tack room the other day, a friend asked me if I sometimes get afraid when I am trying new things with Paco.  My answer was an immediate and resounding "YES." Most, if not all, horse people get afraid.  One of the things I have been learning from all of the great instructors I have had in the past year is that if something isn't going well, break it down into easier parts.  If you are having trouble with a gymnastic or combination, eliminate some parts, make the components smaller and then build back up to wherever you need to get to so that you feel like you and your horse have been successful.  When we learn to jump or we teach a horse to jump, we start with a rail on the ground, then the tiniest of cross rails, then a slightly bigger cross rail and then a simple vertical and so on.  Having to take a few steps backwards every now and again to make sure that everyone is feeling safe and confident is an integral part of the process.  
 
So perhaps, when we hear that Watcher start to chime in, we need to ask not so much whether we are doing too little, but are we expecting too much.  Riding is fun.  Horses are fun.  "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy…"  Grab a friend and take your horse out for a walk through the woods.  If that’s too scary, then amble around the farm and maybe down the driveway.  Next time you might go a bit farther and perhaps a bit farther the time after that.  You are the boss of you.  Be a good boss and a kind boss, and the next time you are the one leaning on the gate watching what looks like a disaster in the making, remember that we all started somewhere and just because one person's journey doesn't look as pretty as someone else's, that doesn't make it any less important or miraculous in the long run.  
 
Praise yourself, your horse and your friends often.  We could all use a little help replacing that critical voice in our heads with a voice that celebrates our triumphs, however small.  Let those little victories encourage us on towards more and bigger adventures.  Today I watched a friend ride through a 5 piece gymnastic.  Not long ago, she was telling me she was feeling nervous about jumping at all.  As I left the barn I called in to her "That was awesome!  Completely Awesome!"  And I really, really meant it.  I hope she is incredibly proud of herself and the sweet horse she was on, and that she is having a euphoric afternoon.  That's the magic part, right there.  That part where we find ourselves doing something we used to be afraid of.  That part where the only thing the Watcher is saying is "You can do it!  You are doing it!  Yippee!"