Anke Hawke Balanced Dressage

06/07/2025

The little signs often say the most.

In horse training, it’s rarely the big gestures that tell us when something is off. Sometimes, a horse will let you know in subtle ways that something is a bit too much — not because they’re being difficult, but because they’re doing their best to hold it together. Of course, it depends on the horse: some are more expressive than others. But it’s up to us to notice when we’ve stepped just over their threshold.

Yesterday was obstacle day, and the horse I rode was absolutely fantastic. We walked over bridges, through pool noodles, and out onto the adventure trail. He did everything I asked without hesitation.

But what I really learned had nothing to do with the obstacles.

It turns out he’s not totally comfortable with horses at a distance — especially when they’re moving on both sides and he can’t quite figure out where to place them. His instinct was to bring the herd together, to keep an eye on everyone. And there I was, trying to just plod along and enjoy the ride, unintentionally asking him to ignore the thing his instincts told him to fix.

He showed me something important: just because a horse does everything we ask doesn’t mean he’s entirely okay with it. Sometimes, the bravest thing a horse does is stay with us — even when his brain is somewhere else.

It was a good reminder that what looks like success on the outside can still be a little shaky underneath. And those are the moments I want to pay attention to most.

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02/07/2025

Winter wind, always a joy.
Despite rugs flying and feed tubs trying to take off, my ponies managed to offer a surprisingly lovely bit of work this morning. They stayed as focused as one could hope with everything moving sideways—including, eventually, the camera.
After a short but solid session (and one very windswept trainer), we called it a day. Sometimes that’s just enough.
No photos—camera didn’t survive the breeze. Funny that.

29/06/2025

Why the gentle stuff works — and it’s not just airy-fairy fluff

We often think that to make progress with a horse, we have to be strong, loud, or constantly doing something. But horses are built to notice the tiniest shifts — they’re wired for it. That’s thanks to mechanoreceptors: tiny sensory receptors in their skin, muscles, joints, and fascia that pick up every little pressure, stretch, or movement.

These receptors help horses:
• Know exactly where their legs are (that’s called proprioception),
• Detect tiny changes in pressure from a saddle or rider,
• Respond to the lightest touch, especially around sensitive areas like the face or flanks.

So when we work with lightness — whether through soft groundwork, subtle posture shifts, or mindful riding — we’re not being vague. We’re speaking in the horse’s native language. Those gentle signals are often clearer to the horse than a big, noisy ask.

This is why groundwork that looks soft or simple can make such a big difference. When done well, it taps into the horse’s natural sensitivity and balance system — and that’s where real connection and change begin.

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26/06/2025

Yesterday’s lesson with Bettina reminded me of a few things I’ve been circling back to lately.

It’s always lovely to see how much softer my horse gets, and how we both settle into a bit more flow with each session. The learning feels familiar — not because it’s repetitive, but because the principles of good training are often shared across traditions.

What stands out is that, no matter who you learn from — whether it’s someone in the academic art of riding, the Hofreitschule in Bückeburg, Bent Branderup, Thomas Ritter, or others — they’ve all arrived at their understanding by testing, refining, and doing what works best for the horse. And the thread they all seem to follow is this:
• Be clear in your question.
• Develop your feel.
• Stick with the question long enough for the horse to give you a consistent answer.

That doesn’t mean being rude. But it does mean being consistent. If we change our question halfway through — or aren’t aware we’re asking one — it becomes really hard for the horse to stay with us. They need time to figure out the pattern and rhythm of what we’re asking. Otherwise, we’re just changing the rules as we go.

One part that really clicked for me again was about the horse’s hind leg. You hear this often in academic circles — how the hind leg needs to be mobile, like a hydraulic system, where the joints line up, fold, and generate energy. The movement is only efficient if those joints are stacked correctly. And if they’re not — if the hind leg isn’t doing its job — the front gets overloaded.

Tami recently shared a great analogy: the horse isn’t working off suspension; it’s more like a crane. That image stayed with me. The front legs aren’t designed to push — they’re just there to catch force. When they start catching more than they’re built for, things wear out. That’s why so many horses end up sore in the front end — especially the left front, which seems to be the “last leg standing” when the rest of the system isn’t working wel.l

And that’s the art of it. The more we notice, the more we can help.

It is all connected
Picture from Bent Branderups book

The ambitious pleasure rider
Nature works in loops

23/06/2025

Rübe runter!” — or how one horse taught me the value of lowering the root vegetable.

In German, we have a saying: “Rübe runter.” Literally, it means “carrot down” — or any root vegetable really. But in the horse world, it loosely translates to: head down, horse calm.

I have one here who… well, let’s just say his Rübe is always up. High in the sky. He’s the type who thinks a lot (probably too much), and when he’s worried, that head just shoots up. Every bit of him says “uh oh” — like a meerkat who just heard a twig snap in the bush.

It’s been a journey for both of us. Because of course, when the head is up, the nervous system is usually in flight mode. That doesn’t mean he’s being “naughty” or “difficult” — it just means he’s on alert. And I’m not trying to shut that down. I just want him to feel safe enough to be present, grounded, and mobile — not sleepy, not dull, just available.

That’s where so much of the work comes in. From academic groundwork (where the first step is learning to extend the neck without collapsing onto the forehand) to the breathing work I’ve been learning with Tami — it all helps him find that sweet spot: head lower, brain calmer, body still in motion.

As Tami reminded me last week, it’s all about the diaphragm. The breathing bone technique has been surprisingly powerful — helping him connect through his body, find his rhythm, and settle into a state where things start working together. It’s a long road, but little by little, we’re getting there.

And what I love most about him is that he shows me where he’s at. His emotions are written all over him — no poker face here. Which makes it easier for me to listen, adjust, and find better ways to meet him.

So yes, “Rübe runter” makes me giggle — but it’s also a surprisingly accurate goal.

Not by pulling the head down.
Not by forcing posture.
But by inviting the horse to feel safe enough to let the Rübe sink just a little closer to the ground — where clarity, calm, and connection can actually begin.

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22/06/2025

What a week it’s been.
A full-on immersion in education, learning, brain pretzeling — all in the name of understanding the loops, the diaphragm, and the deeper workings of the horse’s body (and our own).

I’d be lying if I said I understood it all.
But I loved Tami’s description:
“Is your brain laying pink sparkly eggs?”
Yes. Yes, it is.

Tami has such a colourful way of teaching — childlike in the best way. She thinks in pictures, speaks in pictures, and yet has one of the deepest understandings of the equine body I’ve ever encountered. And she doesn’t stop there — she ties it back to us humans too, because we’re part of the equation.

If we’re not breathing, balanced, and organised in our own bodies, how can we expect the horse to be?

The weekend brought everything together — a brilliant fusion of therapy and training with Shelley Appleton and Tami Elkayam. It was incredible to experience how both perspectives complement each other so beautifully.

Apparently, I’m a noodle.
Like cooked spaghetti.
All my years of riding have been about chasing softness, looking for that pliable, flowing feel, that dance with the horse. But this week I learned that softness alone isn’t enough.

Tensegrity — what a concept.
It’s not about being floppy or relaxed all the time. It’s about holding enough tone and integrity in your body that the horse knows they can lean into you, trust you to hold space when they let go. If we’re too soft, too accommodating, they lose confidence in us. That was a real eye-opener.

So now I’ve got a new focus:
That warrior-like stillness.
The ability to stay soft and grounded. To be an anchor in motion — balanced, organised, with just enough tone to be a safe place for the horse to release into.

And another gem from Tami:
“It’s not about symmetry. It’s the asymmetry that keeps the body safe.”
She’s right. The goal is ambidexterity, not perfect balance.
Because true function lives in adaptability — in being able to move, wiggle, adjust, and use both sides of your body well.

So brush your teeth with the other hand. Seriously.
Swap the knife and fork. Try using the mouse on the other side.
(If you’re left-handed, you’re already a master of this — life trained you well.)

My son is left-handed and it always makes me pause when I see him chopping onions. He does everything in reverse and my brain has to double-check he’s not about to lose a finger. He never does — he’s actually a fantastic cook.

Anyway… just a few reflections and colourful thoughts from a very full, inspiring week.

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19/06/2025

Second time around sitting in the peanut gallery for this clinic — and I’m just letting it all marinate.

It’s such a good feeling having last year’s course under my belt. A year of practicing, playing with ideas, testing things out. I’m not a bodyworker, but I am someone who loves understanding how the body works — how to help it move better, feel better, and function more efficiently. Being able to apply the techniques over time, and then come back to refresh them, has been so helpful — and it’s made it easier to take in new information this time around too.

That doesn’t mean chasing symmetry or perfection. It means finding function — helping the body last longer, work smarter, and avoid those patterns where one part goes on holiday and another has to pick up the slack.

That’s also a huge part of why I love training horses. Spotting those imbalances. Seeing the before and after. Watching Tami guide people through those small shifts — intention, attention, touch, feel, balance, and safety — and then seeing how much the horses change in response.

It’s kind of magic how little you actually have to do when it’s done well. Absolutely worthwhile.

And Canberra turned on a stunning (and very cold!) start to the day.

15/06/2025

Curb or snaffle? A time-travel moment in my bit education.

Koets recently put out a brilliant video together with Jeff Sanders California Vaquero Horsemanship, and it brought me straight back to the first time I met Arne. At the time, I was riding in a snaffle with a flash strap — thinking I was doing the kindest thing for my horse. I had also just started transitioning her into a double bridle.

Then came the conversation — or rather, a full-on education.

Arne compared our thinking about bits to a time when people believed the earth was flat. I had grown up assuming that snaffles were the softest and most horse-friendly option.
But Arne gently challenged that belief.
He explained that snaffles, especially in unsteady hands, can be very direct and even harsh. There’s no signal before pressure, no way for the horse to prepare — it just hits. So unless you have incredibly refined, consistent hands (and honestly, most of us don’t), it can actually cause discomfort or confusion.

The German word Zügelführung translates to “guidance of the reins.” Not pulling, not holding — guiding. And that stuck with me.

So we tested it. Arne said, “Let your horse decide. Come in with a clear mind. Observe her like you’ve never seen her. Just watch her face.”

First, I rode in the snaffle. She went fine — her usual self.
Then we swapped to the double bridle — and I noticed a distinct change. She softened. She felt more expressive. Happier.

But then Arne took the snaffle out and left just the curb.
That made me nervous. I had so much respect for that bit — it felt sharp.
But Arne said, “That’s good. You have respect for it — it means you’ve found your seat.”

And again, the change in my horse was impossible to ignore. She moved differently. She understood. The conversation between us was quieter, clearer, more refined.

What I loved about the video Arne and Jeff Sanders shared is how much depth there is behind their words. These are two highly educated, thoughtful horsemen who speak from years of experience and study — and they hold their knowledge with care.

Jeff Sanders in particular has done extensive research into how bits actually sit in a horse’s mouth. He even had hundreds of X-rays taken of horses wearing snaffles — and what they revealed was a real eye-opener.
Not one of the horses carried the bit straight. It was always shifted, or pushed into tissue — nothing like the diagrams in textbooks.

Jeff has written two excellent books —
📖 The Hackamore Horse
📖 The Bridle Horse

I bought both. My only disappointment? Not all of the X-rays are included — and I really wanted to see them! But I imagine there were good reasons they couldn’t be published. Still, the thought and detail in his writing is well worth diving into.

All of this reminds me: before we ever put a bit in a horse’s mouth, the horse should already be educated.
They should know how to follow a feel, understand our intention, and respond to light guidance. The bit isn’t there to control — it’s there to refine. And no matter the type — snaffle or curb — the real question is: what kind of conversation are you having with your horse?

Also worth mentioning: no two horse tongues are the same.
They’re as unique as fingerprints — some thick and fleshy, others narrow or uneven — which changes how every bit sits and works in the mouth.

So if this topic makes you curious, go watch Arne and Jeff’s video.
Don’t take my word for it.
Just watch the horses.
They’ll show you what’s working.

For a long time Arne Koets and Jeff Sanders have had a different take on the use of curb or snaffle bits than what is talked about in conventional modern eur...

15/06/2025

I can’t wait! Isabelle Chandler is an OTT fan through and through, and this course is an absolute game changer for helping an ex-racehorse step confidently into their new ridden career.

From Racehorse to Riding Horse – The Off-the-Track Reboot 🐎🔧

You know what’s not fair?
Taking a horse bred for speed, trained to race, and conditioned to go for a gallop at 5am in the morning…
…and then expecting it to instantly become your barefoot, bitless, trail-riding soulmate by Thursday.

Isabelle Chandler and I are on a mission—a slightly obsessive, definitely nerdy, and proudly horse-first mission—to change that 💥🐴

Retired racehorses are not necessarily broken. They’re not naughty. They’re not “too much.”
They’re just misunderstood—victims of the classic human tradition of not reading the manual before pressing all the buttons at once 🚨📖

So, we built the manual.
A 6-week educational reboot designed to help people understand what life was like before their retirement … and how to reset these brilliant athletes for a life after the track.

✨ It’s not magic.
✨ It’s not woo.
✨ It’s practical, grounded, and full of lightbulb moments that make you go,
“Ohhh… so that’s why he gets anxious in the wash bay”

Big thanks to Dr Jodie Gossage for adding some serious Standardbred smarts to the mix 🧠💡

We’re releasing a beta version of the course now—exclusive to my Society Membership—and looking for thoughtful humans to help us test-drive the content, share stories, and help shape the full version for release in August 🎯

Curious? Confused by your own off-the-track equine? It does not matter how long they have been off-the-track! Check the comments for all the details 👇

📸 IMAGE: This is Isabelle with Dash—once labelled “dangerous,” now a star pupil and rebooted legend. He’d been returned to his rehoming program multiple times before becoming a case study in our course. Watching him transform was genuinely satisfying... like finding the missing piece of a very fast, very handsome puzzle. ❤️

14/06/2025

Last evening’s sky put on a show…

You don’t have to be loud to be charismatic. Horses pick up on the quiet confidence you carry — your energy, your breath, your focus. They know if you’re just ‘there’ or really with them. It’s not about taking up space, it’s about showing up fully.

14/06/2025

Motion and Emotion: Why They Can’t Be Separated

I had a good giggle today with one of the horses I’m working with — he’s the kind that really wears his heart on his sleeve (or, well… on his coat). He’s an open book of emotions, and I actually love that about him.

On a good day, he’s a total delight: curious, willing, eager to learn. But on a not-so-good day? He’s like a kid coming home from a birthday party—sugar high, overstimulated, overtired, and absolutely not ready for bed. You know the kind… they’re beyond exhausted, but if you try to tuck them in, you’ll witness the emotional equivalent of a fireworks display.

That’s him. And asking him to do anything in that state is like asking someone fresh out of a rave to sit quietly and read poetry. It’s just not going to land.

But when he is calm and focused, he’s all in — and that’s the sweet spot. That’s when learning happens. And honestly, it’s the same for any horse. No matter what discipline you come from, you’ll notice one key foundation for training: you need a calm, focused horse. Only then is the mind open, the body available, and the learning possible.

And here’s where it gets interesting: the way a horse moves tells you a lot about how they feel. Motion and emotion are always intertwined. Let’s take something as simple as the walk. You can see so many states of mind — just through how a horse (or human) walks.

Here are four common “walk moods” I’ve noticed:

🔹 The Grounded Walk
Slow, deliberate, calm. Each step is placed with awareness. There’s balance and a sense of being centred. These are the moments I love — especially for movement and posture work. It’s when the horse is open to the conversation.

🔹 The Playful Walk
Light-footed, bouncy, joyful. It’s the “let’s play!” energy. And when your horse offers this, match it! Work on patterns, transitions, platform games — it’s a perfect time to build connection while having fun.

🔹 The Angry Stomp
You’ve seen this one. Heavy, tense, annoyed. A horse that’s brimming with frustration, ready to lash out — not because of you, necessarily, but because they’re flooded. This is where skill comes in. You can’t fight fire with fire. You need to stay calm, down-regulate, and offer a more useful pattern — not force them to stand still, but give them a job that helps them reset.

🔹 The Rushing Walk
This one’s the anxious mover — always in a hurry, no idea where they’re going, just going fast. I often see this in horses trained to always “go forward” — but there’s no balance, no clarity, just speed. It’s like living in a permanent state of deadline panic. And again — it’s not about standing still, it’s about helping them find rhythm, tempo, and a chance to breathe.

The bottom line?
How a horse moves is how a horse feels. When you understand the emotion behind the motion, you can respond with the kind of clarity and compassion that creates real change. And from that calmness, the learning can begin — step by step.

12/06/2025

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Weird and Wonderful

Walking backwards might look a bit odd — but it’s honestly one of the best things you can do for your coordination, balance, breathing, posture, and overall body awareness.

It brings your attention to how you place your feet, how you move through space, how your arms swing, and how you breathe. And when you do it barefoot on something natural like sand or grass, it resets your whole sensory system. You start feeling more — not just with your feet, but through your whole body.

As someone who works with horses and riders, I’m always fascinated by how much our own awareness (or lack of it!) affects our communication with the horse. Horses are incredibly tuned in — they feel your posture, rhythm, and tension long before you say anything. So when I help riders with their alignment or groundwork, it’s really about helping them become more aware of their own movement first.

And here’s the fun part: I grew up in soggy, wind-blown northern Germany, where shoes were basically welded to our feet. I still have ridiculously soft feet — I tiptoe like a sore-footed pony on gravel. I truly admire Aussies who walk barefoot across anything!

So no, I’m not saying you need to walk barefoot backwards in front of your horse. But next time you’re on a beach or a patch of grass — take your shoes off. Walk backwards. Swing your arms. Feel the ground. Breathe. Let it be a bit silly. Weird is wonderful. And the more in tune you are with your own body, the more clearly you can connect with your horse.