Brindabella Farms

Written by Chardy Shealy

ON A WARM spring Saturday, Rusty* and Jan, two eleven year olds from neighboring Pennsylvania farms, jumped on board his family's two rarely ridden horses grazing quietly in pasture. No saddles, no bridles, a nice day for a ride. The once peaceful horses entered the nearby apple orchard where the riders were quickly wiped off their horses by over-hanging branches. Jan and Rusty were sore and bruised, but not seriously hurt. Rusty lost interest in horseback riding that day. Undaunted, Jan figured there had to be a better way to stay on a horse. Her parents were not interested in helping her out however. They soon moved to a large city, and Jan put her riding ideas on hold.

Ellie started riding just after graduating from college. She lived with her husband in the country and taught school. Knowing very little about horses, they purchased two "quiet" horses to ride around their property. Ellie's horse came with a bit and saddle. One day she and her husband were out riding when Ellie's horse spooked and ran off. Ellie eventually fell off the horse. She was not seriously hurt but she vowed she was too afraid ever to ride again.

Belle came to our two week Intensive Workshop. Belle was in her thirties and had been riding once a week for a couple of years. She complained that she was not making any progress. She confided that she was afraid of cantering, afraid of trotting without stirrups, and afraid of the horse doing something unpredictable. Her instructor had become frustrated with her fears; Belle thought maybe her situation was hopeless, but she was game for one more chance to move ahead.

Jan took her old apple orchard memories, laughed at the adventure, and as an adult, set out systematically and progressively to learn how to ride a horse. In the process, she occasionally was unseated, and each time she learned something worthwhile about horses, herself, and riding. She rode a lot of horses; she rode a lot. She studied classical equitation. She read widely in the equestrian literature. She never cared about being a dare-devil; she cared about riding well. Was she afraid? Occasionally. What she observed was however, that fear made her tense, annoyed the horse, and put both horse and rider out of balance with each other. That was really scary!

Ellie never did ride again. While Jan's experience made her aware that there had to be a better way of staying on a horse, Ellie's fear eclipsed that possibility. Fear closes in on us, trapping us in a clamshell of limited choices. Trading in fear for awareness invites us to take control, to explore the possibilities, engage our intuition, and venture onward.

Many people who start horseback riding as adults are like Ellie. Scared once too often, or maybe only once, they simply stop riding. Often they do not have access to competent instruction. Sometimes their reasoning is more hair raising: "I have a saddle; this horse has a back; therefore I can ride." Fear associated with horseback riding is not surprising. Our brains, bent on survival, and being naturally earth-comfortable, are alarmed at being destabliized off the ground on a moving object. The horse, bigger and stronger than we, has a brain with survival ideas of its own, and not always compatible with ours. Fear is our brain's wisdom exclaiming, "Your survival is threatened!"

Belle's brain was constantly sending off these alarm signals. Her instructor, who had ridden from childhood, was frustrated because riding was a way of life for her, as natural as say, driving to the office daily in Chicago's rush hour traffic was for Belle. Her instructor couldn't understand Belle's fears. Yet, Belle saw people around her riding horses at all gaits without incident. How come? That's awareness. Had she shuddered instead, and said, "I'll never do that!", that is fear shutting her out of possibilities.

So Belle signed up for another adventure, a two week intense riding education workshop that specialized in working with adult riders. She soon learned that riding is far more complex than simply sitting on a saddle and going around in circles. She learned that the adult body and brain learn to ride differently from children's bodies and brains, very differently, and that the expectations on the part of riders and instructors must be different as well.

By hanging out with horses for two weeks, Belle became more comfortable around them. By engaging in daily unmounted physical conditioning, she felt stronger, more flexible.... and more confident. By getting a solid grounding in how the horse moves, coupled with experience in specific training techniques, equipment choices, psychology of the horse and equine management, Belle's enthusiasm for riding took on dimensions she had never before imagined.

She rode daily and progressively for two weeks. She dissected the walk and then the trot; she used different kinds of riding equipment and different horses. She groomed and tacked them up herself, and limbered them for riding, something she had never done before. She developed a riding plan for herself to help her progress. The day she rode without stirrups or reins on a bareback pad at a trot after a week at the workshop was the day Belle, speechless and radiant, finally declared, "Good-bye fear; welcome awareness!"

* The names here are all fictional.