Wow, interesting responses!
First of all to Karen: I hope it didn't look as if I was judging anyone for riding or training or anything. That's the idea I got from your reply, and that certainly isn't my plan!
I don't have any dark thoughts either (the weather is too sunny for that over here!
). You don't have to be gloomy to do a little soul-searching.
What I was musing about, is the change I saw in especially Blacky since the last half year - since I started asking myself what exactly my goals were in training - what I wanted to 'get' out of it. When I did that I noticed two things:
1.
I was always taught to get a response after a cue of mine. So if you cue and nothing happens (and there isn't something horribly wrong with your horse), you repeat the cue untill you get the response and reward for that.
2.
I felt horrible when Blacky or Sjors walked away from me during a training to do something else, and tried to be very interesting by making up lots of different exercises to keep them occupied.
Both things puzzled me. Because for some reason apparently I emotionally felt the need to always get a positive reply from the pony (answering to my cue), and felt very bad when he didn't (didn't give the right reply, or even walked away to sniff some poop
). I began to realise that if I had a problem with that (which I didn't really), that problem would lie with me and me alone, not with our training or the ponies. If I needed the pony's to do certain things, give certain reactions in order to feel content or happy, that would mean that my self-esteem wasn't really as high as I thought it was - and that I didn't love myself and the pony's as unconditionally as I thought I did. Because unconditional love above all means that it's not about what you do, but about what you are, and apparently what both I and the ponies did was very important for how I felt. And apparently I tried to control my self-esteem (good exercises means happy Miriam
) by controlling the ponies and our training.
So about six months ago I decided to not so much change our training (as the ponies already were working at liberty, for treats and did collection because they wanted to), but most of all my attitude. First of all, when I asked a certain movement and the pony didn't respond, I would go and do something else with him - or without him. The pony clearly had decided not to get a reward for that exercise, so I should see that as
his decision, not my failure. Second: if a pony walked away during training (which is quite normal actually, as we often play for 45 minutes to an hour), I would walk away too
and start doing something to enjoy myself.
The funny thing is that even though our training didn't really change that much, Blacky did - very much! Before he was coming along nicely, doing his things and offering collection. But most of the time he seemed to be waiting for me to cue him, and always paused for a second before he responded to my cues. When I think back, I realise that that wasn't because he was lazy, but because it was a very subtle hint of passive aggression: he knew very well that I would continue to cue him untill I got the movement I wanted, so that his input actually wasn't that big, and that therefore he wasn't going to get very enthusiastic about it either. Blacky is very good at subtle hints, and I'm very bad at picking them up I'm afraid.
He also always walked away during training a couple of times to sniff at the fence or doing something very annoying - and when I look back now, I realise that he did that because it didn't really matter: I would follow him anyway to try to get him involved again. Instead of deciding 'That's a great idea Blacky, there's plenty things to do out here on my own anyway, great suggestion!' and enjoying being on my own in a paddock with a pony.
For Blacky me not demanding control, not following him and instead having a little more self-worth definately meant a big change. He almost never leaves me during training again, because he knows I will start to have fun without him - which is even worse.
He also has become much more enthusiastic and also more energetic. It's hard to keep him in a regular walk or halt nowadays because all he wants to do is show off, invent movements and do crazy things. And he really gets annoyed with the fact the when he doesn't do something, the consequences aren't delivered by me (blaming him, cueing again or giving negative attention in whatever way - and by that taking away the attention from his decision but instead focussing it on me in the shape of the annoying girl) - but that he only has himself to blame as I will go on having fun on my own, or with him in another exercise.
I'm convinced that not every horse will provide that same, very subtle mirror as Blacky does. Sjors for example doesn't, even though he is a little more relaxed than before (not having me repeating cues and walking after him when he left seems to have lifted some burden too though
). And I've also been through a lot more with Blacky than with Sjors and have had Blacky longer, which means that we have influenced each other much more. But for me it was really interesting and I think also important to find out where my need for control came from - why I felt the need to reach certain results. And it's also clear to me that I couldn't have changed and improved our playing together by just adapting my behavior - I really needed to understand my emotions behind it in order to see what caused these needs.
So, that's me in a nutshell.
And since then I've seen that in a lot of other horsepeople during my clinics too. For some reason we seem to have a need to prove something to ourselves through our horses. The 'IIf I can only get the piaffe right, I will be happy' idea that has been slumbering in my mind the past decade or so. While in fact the piaffe doesn't have a 'happy'-sideeffect at all. It's just a movement. But it was me projecting my happiness onto something that was without my reach. So if I would have reached the piaffe in that state of mind, I would probably not have thought: 'Hey, I feel soo good! Now I'm blessed forever with joy!' - but more something in the line of 'Great, we have a piaffe! Now if we could only get that passage fixed, I would be
really happy...' Because apparently I wasn't longing for a specific movement a horse can do, but more for a rationalisation why I didn't feel as happy as I could be. It must be not having that piaffe! Sure...
By the way: Don't feel like I was suffering from severe mental ilnesses and depressions! It was more a very slight nagging in my mind every now and again, having trained and not feeling completely satisfied, feeling a pang of hurt when a pony walked away, just tiny things, tiny dots that seemed to form a bigger picture of seeking control in order to make up for a certain emotional need. And probably there are lots of sane people on this forum too who think this just sounds really weird, so please do skip this post - but maybe some recognize things, or see things in a different way. All I can say is that before I was very content with the ponies before, during and after or playsessions. Now I'm simply totally, blissfully happy, whatever went right or wrong during our exercises. Because it just doesn't matter anymore, my feelings about myself don't depend on the outcome anymore. Just being with the pony's. playing and experimenting with them is all I need, the rest is air. For me that difference between being very content and extremely happy was very small, but gigantic.