04/11/2024
The following is an excerpt from my recently released The Lesson Rider’s Journal.
One of the things I’ve learned within the process of publishing The Lesson Rider’s Journal is that you can edit, edit, edit, then edit some more, and still find that there’s more to say.
The topics we discuss in this book require nuance. They are things I’ve discovered through the act of riding, training, and especially teaching.
What follows the excerpt is what I’d add in my next round of edits, if there were ever to be one.
“Riding can be scary and with good reason. Horses are big and not always predictable. Falling off is the worst. The only thing I can tell you with 100% certainty is that if you ride, you will eventually fall. It’s an unfortunate element of all equestrian sports.
It doesn’t happen often, but when I do have a student fall, before they’re allowed to get up, I ask them “Are you more hurt or more scared?” The honest ones will tell me when the real answer is “more scared.” That’s okay; we can work with that.
I haven’t quite determined which is worse. One of those scenarios does damage to our bodies, but the other one does damage to our confidence and that can be hard to shake. I have ridden probably hundreds of horses in my career and I can tell you with absolute honesty that I still have a moment of reservation when I sit on a new horse for the first time. I also have a moment of reservation when I sit on a horse after falling off, especially if I was legitimately hurt.
But I don’t panic. And I don’t quit. What I do is set aside that fear because I trust in my own skills and education, and I make the choice to do the scary thing anyway. Ultimately, I know that my fear, whether it's big or small, is driven by my normal, human, biological impulses that I cannot control. My instinctual brain does not understand logic, even when I know that I am in no danger.
What I can control is my response in those moments. I can breathe, and I can choose how to act. Nine times out of ten, I can relax within the first two strides and convince my body and my instincts what my logical mind already knows - I’m okay and I’ve got this.
And so do you. You chose your instructor and your barn for a reason. Trust that the professionals around you have the expertise to put you on safe and appropriate horses (and if that isn’t true, find another barn pronto). Let’s just assume that you chose well and your team has you well horsed… in that case, you’re fine. You’ve got this, and the only one who can really and truly convince you of that is you.
So be brave. Do the scary thing anyway. Get back on. Jump the jump. Run the barrels. Attempt the gallop. Approach that person that has caught your eye. Apply for the job. Embrace any of a hundred other scary things that might be giving you pause.
You can’t choose to not be scared, but you can choose to be brave. I choose it all the time and it is hard. I’m not going to pretend it’s not. This is hard advice to implement, but so important. Your ability to improve for your horse matters to me, and your ability to grow into the best and most capable human matters. It just matters, period.
So…what are you afraid of? What is holding you back? What are the moments that make your breath catch and make you freeze from fear? Sit with them. Allow yourself to feel it, observe it, set it aside, and choose bravery anyway.”
I am currently listening to an audiobook that talks about this very idea, which brought up one bit of nuance I want to add. Seeing as we’ve already gone to print, I’ll add it for you here.
The author of that book was discussing her two daughters getting their ears pierced. The younger of the two hopped up on the chair and didn’t flinch. She was labeled the “brave” one by the staff in the shop. The elder daughter changed her mind. Upon telling them she would not be getting pierced, they urged her to be brave. The author then stated “being brave isn’t doing the scary thing anyway. It’s following your inner knowing.”
And to this I’d say “yes, I agree.”
But also, I’d say that the first order of business must be to accurately identify the scary thing.
In the ear piercing example, is the “scary thing” getting the ears pierced? Or perhaps it is speaking your truth? Maybe not meeting the expectations of the people around you?
For each daughter, the scary thing was different. And both rose to the occasion. So maybe bravery was found in doing it anyway, but what that meant can vary from person to person, moment to moment, and situation to situation.
Let’s now imagine a scenario that could play out in a lesson setting. Imagine you’re on your horse and your instructor is asking to jump a fence that is higher than you usually jump. Your horse is solid around a 2’ course, and your instructor has set the fence to 2’3”. Both you and your horse are ready for this, but you’re nervous.
Now let’s change that scenario slightly. Same horse and rider combo, but the instructor has set a line to 3’6”.
In the first situation, the “scary thing” is jumping the slightly higher fence, which is well within reason. Jump the jump. Trust and go.
But the second is a totally different story. In this case, the “scary thing” becomes speaking up for yourself and your horse. It is holding true to the knowing that the ask is inappropriate for the level of the horse, and will cause more harm than good. Can you speak up in the face of perceived authority? Can you say “No, thank you. This is not right for me and my horse?” I’d say that you can and must. The scary thing is not jumping the big fence, it’s following your inner knowing. And doing the scary thing anyway by speaking up.
The key is identifying the scary thing. Then choosing that.
If you enjoyed this, you’ll love The Lesson Rider’s Journal. Check it out here: https://a.co/d/4JWi2Pr
