On Carrying Worry

I realized recently that there are a lot of people who might not know what I mean when I say "carries a lot of worry" (I say it a lot, apparently). The pictures I post of Soni are largely ones where he is quite content and relaxed regardless of what we're doing. One of my student pointed recently pointed out to me that I rarely talk about my struggles with my horses in terms of the actual events that occur during the struggle, which made it hard for her to envision what I was working with in those moments. She wanted specifics: what was my horse doing? Was he bucking or rearing? Was he running off with me? Was he getting really spooky, whirling, bolting? Was I in danger of getting thrown? What what actually happening in these moments that was telling me my horse was really not okay?

I pondered this string of options and it hit me that up until that point, I had not realized how great a tolerance so many of us develop for really dangerous stuff to develop within our horses. It's quite normal to consider hard shying, spooking, bolting, bucking fits, threats to rear and so many other pretty extreme horse "behaviors" to manifest and consider the manifestation of those behaviors to be completely within the norm when it comes to working with a horse on any given day.

It really hadn't occurred to me - at least not in a very, VERY long time - that this was something people not only deal with but expect on a daily basis.

It's been quite a while since I've been bucked off and while I consider myself a fairly educated rider it's not because I am too skilled to get bucked off. It's largely because it's been quite a while since I allowed my horse to escalate to the point where they felt like they might need to buck me off. If it's not bucking, it's something else: whirling, hard shying, bolting, rushing...whatever extreme thing the horse feels he must do because he has no other options.

So I set off looking through my photo collection for a picture of Soni doing something particularly wild. I came up with nada. I can't actually even remember the last time he did something more extreme than scoot a couple feet.

It's not that Soni doesn't have those moments - I'm sure if he got bothered enough he would do any of those things. I just work really, really hard to make sure he never gets to the point where he feels that is his only option. 

For that reason, his off days tend to appear pretty boring by standards other than my own. It most often manifests with the feeling that he's uncomfortable in his own skin: he's touchy and overly alert. He might flinch at things - anything, really - because he's anticipating something is going to get him. That Worry Cup is brimming full and it takes nothing to make him jump in his own hide. He never takes off, bolts or does anything one might consider "naughty", because the entire time he's feeling all of this he's trying quite hard not to get into trouble. His desire to avoid trouble is so strong that he will literally subvert all that worry, shoving it deep down and doing anything and everything you ask of him, often trying to get to it ahead of you (because - again - in his mind, this will help keep him from getting in trouble) and offer a thing he thinks you might ask for. He becomes robotic, in a way; the lights are all on but no one is home.

When this happens, his movements lack softness and ease. There's a jerkiness to his responses, an over exaggeration of whatever action he's being asked, especially in his head and neck. He'll become locked in the base of his neck and rushed in his transitions. He becomes "dodgy" as he moves out as if he's practicing preparing to leave in case something should rush him. If he's really not feeling good, he'll get a stuffed up feeling when I invite him into an up transition, similar to the feeling you'd get if you capped a tube of toothpaste and then tried to squeeze some out. 

In these moments, I've learned I cannot increase the pressure. I can't get busy, I can't ask more of him and I can't demand that he get with me because it's not that he doesn't want to be there, he just can't find it within himself to show up. 

Horses like Soni will blow up eventually, but it's not a response they'll choose unless there is absolutely no other way. Soni would rather stuff all the unpleasant feelings into a box and bury that box under twelve feet of concrete before he does something like buck, rear or otherwise decide to ditch his rider. His willingness to do what is asked of him even if he feels rotten about it means I have the extra responsibility of never, ever allowing him to get beyond the aforementioned "symptoms". If this is how he presents on any given day, nothing additional is added until this gets taken care of.

Every once in a great while, it means we do nothing at all. I have taken him out, sensed he's just not at home today and put him back. I have found these days are often days where his neck or poll is bothering him. His physical discomforts and his mental ones are so inextricably linked that there are times where it's best to just let him be. He's usually better within a day or so. 

So we'll have days like that every once in a while. And those days will often be followed with days like this. Ease, flow and relaxation abound.

Believe your horses when they tell you they feel off. Don't allow your ego or your own premeditated plans and desires for that day get in the way of their attempts to tell you how they doing. Unlike many humans, your horse will always tell you the truth.