Riding always plays a necessary part of my life — escaping from my origin of joy is damn near impossible. But I do go through periods where I experience fewer opportunities to sit in a saddle. This makes me sad to an extent, it boils down to expenses much of the time. During these times, I meditate on my riding.
Riding can be such a thinking sport. Constantly, we mull over our weaknesses and how to address them. We reflect on the challenges our horse is facing and dream up exercises, tack, and strategies to reach the next step in our journey. Meditating on this sport can become all-consuming.
I spend car rides to and from the barn picking apart rides, noting where and why I need an adjustment here and a tweak there. All my directives aim toward supporting the horse I ride that day.
Then I will test out ideas, come to this blog, and write about it. I will also read the blogs of others to devour other ideas from the talented equestrian blogosphere. Throw in a smattering of COTH threads, and my head is rolling.
We are all thinking about our riding. Plotting, planning, and theorizing.
Loaded question, I know. Why cannot we all ride perfectly, have our horses react perfectly to the amount of pressure we elicit, and have them execute perfectly to those cues?
Well, there are many reasons. For one, we are human and horses are horses. If you are thinking *no duh* and doing a facepalm, I dare you to keep reading. A point will be made, eventually.
Beyond the unavoidable things that happen to divert us from perfection, what’s wrong with striving for it?
Perfection has a lot of weight to carry. It means that every component of the picture has the same amount of attention to detail.
In the context of horses, this means not jumping a course of crossrails until you master the transition to the canter. And before you produce an uphill, engaged, and straight canter departure, it means building a connected, marching walk.
Before you even step in the saddle, you must command your horse successfully to stand quietly at the mounting block. Before reaching the mounting block, your horse must walk respectfully next to you, listening to your body, hand, voice as you lead them.
I could go on. Perfection is hard. Perfection is work. Perfection is unachievable.
Why strive for something unattainable?
This is my new state of mind lately with horses and work. If we use an excuse that it will “never happen” to be perfect, then why bother trying to improve?
Asking “what’s the point” is defeatist. We all have room to grow. To focus on the shortfall we will always have limits our potential.
Be healthy in your mindset, strive for perfection, and celebrate your progress.
/ end monologue
How do you all handle the idea of perfection as it relates to horses?