Showing posts with label horse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label horse. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
Saturday, December 8, 2012
A Father's Explanation of Why He Had Horses for His Children
I thought this was so great I had to repost. Author unknown, unfortunately. All I know is that the author is NOT me!
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My daughter turned sixteen years old today; which is a milestone for most people. Besides looking at baby photos and childhood trinkets with her, I took time to reflect on the young woman my daughter had become and the choices she would face in the future.
As I looked at her I could see the athlete she was, and determined woman she would soon be. I started thinking about some of the girls we knew in our town who were already pregnant, pierced in several places, hair every color under the sun, drop outs, drug addicts and on the fast track to no-where, seeking surface identities because they had no inner self esteem.
The parents of these same girls have asked me why I "waste" the money on horses so my daughter can ride. I'm told she will grow out of it, lose interest, discover boys and all kinds of things that try to pin the current generation's "slacker" label on my child. I don't think it will happen, I think she will love and have horses all her life.
Because my daughter grew up with horses she has compassion. She knows that we must take special care of the very young and the very old. We must make sure those without voices to speak of their pain are still cared for.
Because my daughter grew up with horses she learned responsibility for others than herself. She learned that regardless of the weather you must still care for those you have the stewardship of. There are no "days off" just because you don't feel like being a horse owner that day. She learned that for every hour of fun you have there are days of hard slogging work you must do first.
Because my daughter grew up with horses she learned not to be afraid of getting dirty and that appearances don't matter to most of the breathing things in the world we live in. Horses do not care about designer clothes, jewelry, pretty hairdos or anything else we put on our bodies to try to impress others. What a horse cares about are your abilities to work within his natural world, he doesn't care if you're wearing $80.00 jeans while you do it. -
Because my daughter grew up with horses she learned about sex and how it can both enrich and complicate lives. She learned that it only takes one time to produce a baby, and the only way to ensure babies aren't produced is not to breed. She learned how babies are planned, made, born and, sadly, sometimes die before reaching their potential. She learned how sleepless nights and trying to out-smart a crafty old broodmare could result in getting to see, as non-horse owning people rarely do, the birth of a true miracle.
Because my daughter grew up with horses she understands the value of money. Every dollar can be translated into bales of hay, bags of feed or farrier visits. Purchasing non-necessities during lean times can mean the difference between feed and good care, or neglect and starvation. She has learned to judge the level of her care against the care she sees provided by others and to make sure her standards never lower, and only increase as her knowledge grows.
Because my daughter grew up with horses she has learned to learn on her own. She has had teachers that cannot speak, nor write, nor communicate beyond body language and reactions. She has had to learn to "read" her surroundings for both safe and unsafe objects, to look for hazards where others might only see a pretty meadow. She has learned to judge people as she judges horses. She looks beyond appearances and trappings to see what is within.
Because my daughter grew up with horses she has learned sportsmanship to a high degree. Everyone that competes fairly is a winner. Trophies and ribbons may prove someone a winner, but they do not prove someone is a horseman. She has also learned that some people will do anything to win, regard- less of who it hurts. She knows that those who will cheat in the show ring will also cheat in every other aspect of their life and are not to be trusted.
Because my daughter grew up with horses she has self-esteem and an engaging personality. She can talk to anyone she meets with confidence, because she has to express herself to her horse with more than words. She knows the satisfaction of controlling and teaching a 1000 pound animal that will yield willingly to her gentle touch and ignore the more forceful and inept handling of those stronger than she is. She holds herself with poise and professionalism in the company of those far older than herself.
Because my daughter grew up with horses she has learned to plan ahead. She knows that choices made today can effect what happens five years down the road. She knows that you cannot care for and protect your investments without savings to fall back on. She knows the value of land and buildings. And that caring for your vehicle can mean the difference between easy travel or being stranded on the side of the road with a four horse trailer on a hot day. When I look at what she has learned and what it will help her become, I can honestly say that I haven't "wasted" a penny on providing her with horses. I only wish that all children had the same opportunities to learn these lessons from horses before setting out on the road to adulthood.
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My daughter turned sixteen years old today; which is a milestone for most people. Besides looking at baby photos and childhood trinkets with her, I took time to reflect on the young woman my daughter had become and the choices she would face in the future.
As I looked at her I could see the athlete she was, and determined woman she would soon be. I started thinking about some of the girls we knew in our town who were already pregnant, pierced in several places, hair every color under the sun, drop outs, drug addicts and on the fast track to no-where, seeking surface identities because they had no inner self esteem.
The parents of these same girls have asked me why I "waste" the money on horses so my daughter can ride. I'm told she will grow out of it, lose interest, discover boys and all kinds of things that try to pin the current generation's "slacker" label on my child. I don't think it will happen, I think she will love and have horses all her life.
Because my daughter grew up with horses she has compassion. She knows that we must take special care of the very young and the very old. We must make sure those without voices to speak of their pain are still cared for.
Because my daughter grew up with horses she learned responsibility for others than herself. She learned that regardless of the weather you must still care for those you have the stewardship of. There are no "days off" just because you don't feel like being a horse owner that day. She learned that for every hour of fun you have there are days of hard slogging work you must do first.
Because my daughter grew up with horses she learned not to be afraid of getting dirty and that appearances don't matter to most of the breathing things in the world we live in. Horses do not care about designer clothes, jewelry, pretty hairdos or anything else we put on our bodies to try to impress others. What a horse cares about are your abilities to work within his natural world, he doesn't care if you're wearing $80.00 jeans while you do it. -
Because my daughter grew up with horses she learned about sex and how it can both enrich and complicate lives. She learned that it only takes one time to produce a baby, and the only way to ensure babies aren't produced is not to breed. She learned how babies are planned, made, born and, sadly, sometimes die before reaching their potential. She learned how sleepless nights and trying to out-smart a crafty old broodmare could result in getting to see, as non-horse owning people rarely do, the birth of a true miracle.
Because my daughter grew up with horses she understands the value of money. Every dollar can be translated into bales of hay, bags of feed or farrier visits. Purchasing non-necessities during lean times can mean the difference between feed and good care, or neglect and starvation. She has learned to judge the level of her care against the care she sees provided by others and to make sure her standards never lower, and only increase as her knowledge grows.
Because my daughter grew up with horses she has learned to learn on her own. She has had teachers that cannot speak, nor write, nor communicate beyond body language and reactions. She has had to learn to "read" her surroundings for both safe and unsafe objects, to look for hazards where others might only see a pretty meadow. She has learned to judge people as she judges horses. She looks beyond appearances and trappings to see what is within.
Because my daughter grew up with horses she has learned sportsmanship to a high degree. Everyone that competes fairly is a winner. Trophies and ribbons may prove someone a winner, but they do not prove someone is a horseman. She has also learned that some people will do anything to win, regard- less of who it hurts. She knows that those who will cheat in the show ring will also cheat in every other aspect of their life and are not to be trusted.
Because my daughter grew up with horses she has self-esteem and an engaging personality. She can talk to anyone she meets with confidence, because she has to express herself to her horse with more than words. She knows the satisfaction of controlling and teaching a 1000 pound animal that will yield willingly to her gentle touch and ignore the more forceful and inept handling of those stronger than she is. She holds herself with poise and professionalism in the company of those far older than herself.
Because my daughter grew up with horses she has learned to plan ahead. She knows that choices made today can effect what happens five years down the road. She knows that you cannot care for and protect your investments without savings to fall back on. She knows the value of land and buildings. And that caring for your vehicle can mean the difference between easy travel or being stranded on the side of the road with a four horse trailer on a hot day. When I look at what she has learned and what it will help her become, I can honestly say that I haven't "wasted" a penny on providing her with horses. I only wish that all children had the same opportunities to learn these lessons from horses before setting out on the road to adulthood.
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Looking farther down the trail.
Oh you are all going to be so sad when my daughter gets her cast off next week and I no longer have time for introspection on my endurance rides because I'm too busy riding 2 horses!
I rode the Sangre Scenic Endurance Ride last weekend at Music Meadows Ranch, in Westcliffe, CO (they are a guest ranch - check it out! You could go there!) and I am pleased to report no injuries to horse or person. It was fabulous quiet time, just me and my horse.
When I first began in endurance, I never imagined myself a top competitor. Since having children, this belief has been strengthened as I have little time to train, and am afraid of pushing my horse too fast. However, I have grown up in this sport, the motto of which (officially) is "To finish is to win." And we live that motto. There's a place in the sport for every person from the first place finisher to the last place "turtle" (who usually gets a special award!). The sub-motto (is that a word?) of endurance would be "ride your own ride," meaning don't get sucked along at a pace that you know is too fast for your horse, ending up in getting pulled (disqualified) or worse hurting your horse. Ride your own ride is a pretty good motto for life too, if you ask me, but it's not what came up on this weekend's ride so I'll save it for later.
We get so stuck worrying about all the things that are happening RIGHT NOW. Things we don't like, don't want to do, aren't working out . . . and we don't stop to think about the fact that these are moments. They pass and resolve. It works out . . . sometimes it just doesn't work out the way we had pictured in our heads. Sometimes it works out in a way that is difficult. But it always works out. Most hardships are temporary and transient. Temporary may mean 10 years, but it's still temporary. We could get into some existential philosophy here, but I'm trying to make these blogs shorter.
So look farther down the trail. When we see events in perspective of our whole lives, they represent a really small piece. Learnining to accept the ups and down of this grand life experiment leads to a whole less anxiety. So ask yourself a bigger question: not what percentage of my life has been spent in this event, but what percent of my life has been spent worrying over events that come and go? That's a bigger number. We can't control events. We certainly can control how much energy we give them.
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| Sangre de Cristo Mountains (AKA VIEW FROM BASE CAMP WHEN YOU WAKE UP - Did I mention I love this sport?) |
I rode the Sangre Scenic Endurance Ride last weekend at Music Meadows Ranch, in Westcliffe, CO (they are a guest ranch - check it out! You could go there!) and I am pleased to report no injuries to horse or person. It was fabulous quiet time, just me and my horse.
When I first began in endurance, I never imagined myself a top competitor. Since having children, this belief has been strengthened as I have little time to train, and am afraid of pushing my horse too fast. However, I have grown up in this sport, the motto of which (officially) is "To finish is to win." And we live that motto. There's a place in the sport for every person from the first place finisher to the last place "turtle" (who usually gets a special award!). The sub-motto (is that a word?) of endurance would be "ride your own ride," meaning don't get sucked along at a pace that you know is too fast for your horse, ending up in getting pulled (disqualified) or worse hurting your horse. Ride your own ride is a pretty good motto for life too, if you ask me, but it's not what came up on this weekend's ride so I'll save it for later.
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| Music Meadows Ranch |
So I rode my own ride. I used to think that the way to be really safe was to start way behind the "front-runners" and stay back there all day so as not to get sucked along at a faster pace than was comfortable. Within the last few years, I learned that the big gaggle of riders up front spreads out after the initial melee, and it is quite possible to ride your own ride and start in the front. You end up riding pretty much the same ride, but you achieve a higher placing. It is, in the words of Will Farrell in a parody of an ever-so-well-spoken former president, "STRATEGERY." So Strategery it was. And thanks to my work with Louis Wood about responsiveness and leadership with my horse, I could be confident that I would survive the start. Soon, Allie and I found a comfortable spot in between two groups. By this time, she had forgotten that she was worried about leaving her pal Morgan back at the trailer, and settled into her crazy big 10 mile an hour trot (we believe that Allie and Morgan actually share a brain. It appears to be wireless, and has a range of about 20 feet.). Well this ended up with us passing the group in front of us. The first place group in front of us. Were we really riding in first place? ME? Nah, I'm the one with the two kids who is just happy to complete!!! But, as I tell my up-and-coming endurance rider daughter, "ride your own ride" means you get out there and do your best on that ride, and compete with yourself, not with the other riders. Sometimes that's last place. Today, maybe it was first place!
Riding out in front means you actually have to watch the trail. You can't just follow the riders in front of you and figure that THEY are watching the trail. Fortunately, the ride managers marked this trail superbly and it was easy. Still, much of the ride was through sagebrush meadows, where things to attach markers to are low to the ground and hard to see. As I rode through one particular meadow, I found myself having to slow down and look carefully for the next ribbon tied to a sagebrush. This is not an efficient process. So I thought I would try to see if I could tell where the trail went back into the trees on the other side of the meadow. Lo and behold, once I found that spot in the distance, I saw a lovely trail of pink ribbons clearly visible! I thought "I need to remember to look farther down the trail." And I was struck by how true this is for life in general. |
| Home away from home. That's Allie. The tent is for the kids! |
We get so stuck worrying about all the things that are happening RIGHT NOW. Things we don't like, don't want to do, aren't working out . . . and we don't stop to think about the fact that these are moments. They pass and resolve. It works out . . . sometimes it just doesn't work out the way we had pictured in our heads. Sometimes it works out in a way that is difficult. But it always works out. Most hardships are temporary and transient. Temporary may mean 10 years, but it's still temporary. We could get into some existential philosophy here, but I'm trying to make these blogs shorter.
So look farther down the trail. When we see events in perspective of our whole lives, they represent a really small piece. Learnining to accept the ups and down of this grand life experiment leads to a whole less anxiety. So ask yourself a bigger question: not what percentage of my life has been spent in this event, but what percent of my life has been spent worrying over events that come and go? That's a bigger number. We can't control events. We certainly can control how much energy we give them.
Monday, July 16, 2012
Hey Look!! Grass!
One of the other things that sets us apart from our horses is the ability to reflect on events. Thinking ABOUT things that aren't happening at the moment is a uniquely human characteristic.
For example, horse people OFTEN speculate on how our horses comment on our activity. At endurance rides, I often think my horse might say "good grief. She hauls us in the trailer for 4 or 5 hours to this amazing field of perfect green grass, then she rides AWAY from that . . . only we don't go anywhere, just in a circle to come right back to the grass! HUMANS!" Their idea of a great weekend would be just munching grass the whole time. To heck with this trotting business.
If you ride long enough, you get hurt. I always tell people who have just started riding (especially kids) that when (note not IF) you fall off the first time, you get your cowgirl/cowboy patch. After that, every time you fall off you get a stripe to go under that patch. No matter how long you've been riding, you know that there's always a chance that today is the day you're going to crash.
Yep. Recently, I went on a ride and it happened to me. I don't get stripes very often anymore, fortunately, but this one was a winner. Now the other thing to know about horse people in general and endurance riders in particular is that Endurance Riders don't quit. Injuries are badges of honor. A friend recently told me that AERC (American Endurance Ride Conference) actually stands for "All Endurance Riders are Crazy." She's an endurance rider too. And of course we finish the ride unless we're being air-lifted out on a stretcher. Tough or Stupid? You decide.
About 3 miles from the finish, it happened. Allie and I were coming out of the last pond after having a really great drink. It was a no-brainer. I reined back 2 steps (which was uphill) and cued her to turn on her hindquarters to bring her feet out of the mud and head back down the trail. She responded like a champ. And then something happened and her hind feet slipped. Her back end went right out from under her and she fell hard on her right side. And on my leg. With the stirrup in between us. Ouch. It happened so fast I didn't even have time to be scared. (Or maybe I've fallen so much in 15 years of riding that I've habituated to it!) I got up and collected my horse, and decided that thankfully my leg did not seem to be broken. We started to walk down the trail back to camp. At some point I decided I was ok to get back on, and that I'd rather ride than walk. So I did. Allie seemed no worse for wear. She was pulling my arms out of the sockets, whinnying, and trying to get back as fast as I would let her. Yep. It hurt. But I'm an endurance rider :).
We got back to camp and everything looked just fine. The vets checked Allie out (which happens during every ride - the vets determine at the finish if your horse looks good enough to continue. If not, you can be disqualified at the end of the ride) and said she looked great. Gave me the big OK to ride her again the
following day. We went back to the trailer to get untacked, where my other horse waited, having worn a strip in the grass from pacing all day and missing her pal.
My friends came around to help, and asked how my ride was. I regaled them with the story of my adventures and proudly displayed the bulging bruise on my thigh. I must have retold that story 10 times. It's what we do. Humans process through repetition. We tell stories and create legends. This was actually the 20th anniversary of this particular ride (To see the web page for this ride click here) and we sat around the candles (there was a burn ban - no bonfire this year) that night and told stories of rides we'd ridden and adventures we'd had. Until it was very late.
Here's my thoughts about what Allie probably would have told Morgan as she walked into the pen that afternoon: "HEY! HI! I know you! Look! Grass!" And it was all over for her.
There are two things that struck me about this experience. The first is what a different experience humans have of trauma. We spend years re-experiencing and being triggered by an experience. We play it over and over in our minds, stay awake at night, talk to our friends about it . . . Allie experiences it, gets done with it, and is glad it's over - if she even thinks about it enough to be glad it's over, I'm pretty sure it just disappears from her consciousness until maybe we're back at that same spot next year. She gets back to the business at hand of eating and staying alive. I think humans do what we do for a good reason. Our problem-solving skills are important. However I think we can learn something from my horse. Be sure to let the experience end. When we repeat it in our heads, we tend to repeat the worst part. One of the big things I focus on in EMDR is to be sure to play the video all the way to the end. That's when it becomes a memory, when we recognize that it's over. I think our brains try to rehearse the experience so if it ever happens again we'll do it differently. Problem is, it's unlikely I will ever be in that exact circumstance again. I've gotten a drink at the same corner at that same pond on that same ride each of the 16 times I've ridden it. One of those times, I crashed. It doesn't make a lot of sense for me to put a lot of problem-solving into that one. It was just bad luck. So I'm going with Allie's approach.
Now, the part I did replay in my head over and over was that Allie started acting funny about 3 hours after the ride. She lay down, and looked uncomfortable, and scared me to death. So I had the vet come over and check her out, and he suggested that perhaps she was sore from the fall. I actually questioned him a little bit on this, explaining that she'd been fine on the mad trot back to camp. Strong, good energy, all the vets agreed that I should definitely do 50 miles on her the next day instead of 30. (NO WAY). But as I lay awake that night thinking about what was going on with her (it was confusing because she was eating . . . like a horse. A colicking horse doesn't eat. Allie would lie down and munch grass while she was down. Weird), I remembered adrenaline. That adrenaline rush of the fall for Allie produced endorphins. Endorphins make us impervious to pain. So while my leg was REALLY painful on the way back to camp, whatever hurt on her didn't start till later. Everything in her little horsey head said that the best idea was to get back to camp to the safety of other horses, and to do that as quickly as possible. She was probably more than a little irritated that I kept insisting we not get there at a dead run. Thank you, Allie, for listening anyway. And sorry, Tom, that I doubted you. Lesson learned.
While I'm at it here, I'm going to also put in a plug for Arnicare Gel. Now, I am not prone to posting pictures of my thigh on the internet, but holy cow! That's the difference in using Arnicare for 3 days, and not starting until about 30 hours after the injury. I'm impressed, and will never travel to a ride without it again. There's a coupon on the website for a dollar off.
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| Shamrock Endurance Ride 2012 |
For example, horse people OFTEN speculate on how our horses comment on our activity. At endurance rides, I often think my horse might say "good grief. She hauls us in the trailer for 4 or 5 hours to this amazing field of perfect green grass, then she rides AWAY from that . . . only we don't go anywhere, just in a circle to come right back to the grass! HUMANS!" Their idea of a great weekend would be just munching grass the whole time. To heck with this trotting business.
If you ride long enough, you get hurt. I always tell people who have just started riding (especially kids) that when (note not IF) you fall off the first time, you get your cowgirl/cowboy patch. After that, every time you fall off you get a stripe to go under that patch. No matter how long you've been riding, you know that there's always a chance that today is the day you're going to crash.
Yep. Recently, I went on a ride and it happened to me. I don't get stripes very often anymore, fortunately, but this one was a winner. Now the other thing to know about horse people in general and endurance riders in particular is that Endurance Riders don't quit. Injuries are badges of honor. A friend recently told me that AERC (American Endurance Ride Conference) actually stands for "All Endurance Riders are Crazy." She's an endurance rider too. And of course we finish the ride unless we're being air-lifted out on a stretcher. Tough or Stupid? You decide.
About 3 miles from the finish, it happened. Allie and I were coming out of the last pond after having a really great drink. It was a no-brainer. I reined back 2 steps (which was uphill) and cued her to turn on her hindquarters to bring her feet out of the mud and head back down the trail. She responded like a champ. And then something happened and her hind feet slipped. Her back end went right out from under her and she fell hard on her right side. And on my leg. With the stirrup in between us. Ouch. It happened so fast I didn't even have time to be scared. (Or maybe I've fallen so much in 15 years of riding that I've habituated to it!) I got up and collected my horse, and decided that thankfully my leg did not seem to be broken. We started to walk down the trail back to camp. At some point I decided I was ok to get back on, and that I'd rather ride than walk. So I did. Allie seemed no worse for wear. She was pulling my arms out of the sockets, whinnying, and trying to get back as fast as I would let her. Yep. It hurt. But I'm an endurance rider :).
We got back to camp and everything looked just fine. The vets checked Allie out (which happens during every ride - the vets determine at the finish if your horse looks good enough to continue. If not, you can be disqualified at the end of the ride) and said she looked great. Gave me the big OK to ride her again the
following day. We went back to the trailer to get untacked, where my other horse waited, having worn a strip in the grass from pacing all day and missing her pal.
My friends came around to help, and asked how my ride was. I regaled them with the story of my adventures and proudly displayed the bulging bruise on my thigh. I must have retold that story 10 times. It's what we do. Humans process through repetition. We tell stories and create legends. This was actually the 20th anniversary of this particular ride (To see the web page for this ride click here) and we sat around the candles (there was a burn ban - no bonfire this year) that night and told stories of rides we'd ridden and adventures we'd had. Until it was very late.
 |
| Allie, after the ride. See why it was tough to think she was just sore? |
There are two things that struck me about this experience. The first is what a different experience humans have of trauma. We spend years re-experiencing and being triggered by an experience. We play it over and over in our minds, stay awake at night, talk to our friends about it . . . Allie experiences it, gets done with it, and is glad it's over - if she even thinks about it enough to be glad it's over, I'm pretty sure it just disappears from her consciousness until maybe we're back at that same spot next year. She gets back to the business at hand of eating and staying alive. I think humans do what we do for a good reason. Our problem-solving skills are important. However I think we can learn something from my horse. Be sure to let the experience end. When we repeat it in our heads, we tend to repeat the worst part. One of the big things I focus on in EMDR is to be sure to play the video all the way to the end. That's when it becomes a memory, when we recognize that it's over. I think our brains try to rehearse the experience so if it ever happens again we'll do it differently. Problem is, it's unlikely I will ever be in that exact circumstance again. I've gotten a drink at the same corner at that same pond on that same ride each of the 16 times I've ridden it. One of those times, I crashed. It doesn't make a lot of sense for me to put a lot of problem-solving into that one. It was just bad luck. So I'm going with Allie's approach.
Now, the part I did replay in my head over and over was that Allie started acting funny about 3 hours after the ride. She lay down, and looked uncomfortable, and scared me to death. So I had the vet come over and check her out, and he suggested that perhaps she was sore from the fall. I actually questioned him a little bit on this, explaining that she'd been fine on the mad trot back to camp. Strong, good energy, all the vets agreed that I should definitely do 50 miles on her the next day instead of 30. (NO WAY). But as I lay awake that night thinking about what was going on with her (it was confusing because she was eating . . . like a horse. A colicking horse doesn't eat. Allie would lie down and munch grass while she was down. Weird), I remembered adrenaline. That adrenaline rush of the fall for Allie produced endorphins. Endorphins make us impervious to pain. So while my leg was REALLY painful on the way back to camp, whatever hurt on her didn't start till later. Everything in her little horsey head said that the best idea was to get back to camp to the safety of other horses, and to do that as quickly as possible. She was probably more than a little irritated that I kept insisting we not get there at a dead run. Thank you, Allie, for listening anyway. And sorry, Tom, that I doubted you. Lesson learned.
While I'm at it here, I'm going to also put in a plug for Arnicare Gel. Now, I am not prone to posting pictures of my thigh on the internet, but holy cow! That's the difference in using Arnicare for 3 days, and not starting until about 30 hours after the injury. I'm impressed, and will never travel to a ride without it again. There's a coupon on the website for a dollar off.
Monday, July 2, 2012
What's With the Horse Again?
In the horse/human/brain analogy I present here, I'd like to clarify what represents what. As I ride down the trail on my magnificent steed, I'm pretty much riding an amygdala. He's a big, fuzzy, loveable amygdala, but he's still an amygdala. His whole world is about staying alive, and he is a prey animal. In the world of "eat or be eaten," he is BE EATEN. Grass is what he eats. It's not hard to catch. He doesn't need predatory skills. He needs to RUN at the first sign of danger, and run FAST. He's very good at it. It's a family trait. MY role in the relationship is to present the voice of reason. To suggest, through the use of my riding aids (seat, legs, reins, etc) that perhaps there is another alternative to the presence of the Wal-Mart bag than to go flying off a cliff. I am the pre-frontal cortex, offering support and guidance to my amygdala. With me here?
In our brains, we have to use the thinking power of our frontal cortex to offer that leadership to our amygdala. That takes practice. Remember, in that moment of crisis, instinct says we don't need to think, we need to react. All those amazing coping skills? They live in the part of the brain that takes a vacation when - um - STUFF hits the fan.
Over the last few years, I have had the magnificent fortune to create a workshop demonstrating this concept with my horsemanship guru and good friend Louis Wood. In a few hours time, we can actually show people the transformation from a fear-based reaction to a thoughful, considered response. (To see Louis at work, click here) We use volunteer horses that Louis has never met before, and generally they come in the picture of fight or flight - high-headed, wide-eyed and ready to head for the hills. Louis offers some stability and leadership in his relationship with the horse, and before you know it, you've got a horse literally yawning he's so relaxed. It is a powerful thing to see, let me tell you, and workshop participants GET IT in a really different way than they would if I were sitting in a lecture hall (or in my office!) yapping at them. Contact me for more info about this. It's so extremely cool, and coming to a neighborhood near you. Be ready though, because I can go on about it for a long long time.
 |
| Louis Wood |
There are a number of ways to outsmart our biology though:
- First is through resolving trauma issues. There are a gazillion different techniques out there designed to help our brains move the storage of traumatic issues from our amygdalas to the file cabinets in the back room where we don't have to react every time we get close to a trigger. EMDR is my favorite, mostly because it's what I use.
- Second, when we install coping strategies, we fill our toolbox with positive ways to deal with stress. Resolve the trauma isses and you can actually USE these tools in the moment of truth.
- Third, and the thing my clients get so sick of hearing about, is rehearsal. We tend to play over and over what actually happened. This traces that neural pathway over and over and increases the liklihood that when the situation arises again, we will handle it EXACTLY the same way. I say rehearse it the way you'd LIKE it to go. Play it over and over with assertiveness, a sense of calm, and devoid of shame and panic. Practice for the next time, when you want to do it differently. That's the key, I think. We tend to think of angry things we could have said. That zinger that would have stopped someone in their tracks. It wouldn't. It would just add fuel to the fire. What stops someone in their tracks is an assertive response that asks for a reasonable answer. An expectation of relationship in which you respect both your needs and the needs of the other person.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Hey Bob? Do you remember what Marlin Perkins said about this?
A little more about the fight or flight response physiologically. If you're running from a lion, your body wants to take every little smidgen of energy and use it to get the heck out of dodge. Except in our world, fight or flight doesn't really make sense because we don't really face very many situations in which either choice is really warranted (thank goodness!). If your boss corners you in the office and reads you the riot act about something or other, you're stuck. A physical fight response will get you fired (though many people go there anyway) and it would look kind of silly to scream and run away as fast as you can. So we freeze. Tongue tied and tense, we're riveted to the spot. Afterward, when blood flow returns to normal, we think of all the great things we could have said in that moment, or all the ways we could have handled it differently. Cause those things live in our prefrontal cortex.
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| Marlin Perkins |
Over time, your brain will develop the attitude that it CAN handle any situation rather than it CAN'T, and sensory input doesn't trigger an amygdala response nearly as often. Ta DAH!!!! What??? Handle STRESS without ANXIETY???? No way.
Yes, Way.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
What do you mean I have to REWARD him???
Let’s talk about anger for a minute. All together now, what’s it called? The FIGHT or FLIGHT response. Option C is FREEZE. Instinct says in that moment, the three most appropriate choices are (in this order): hunker down under a bush and hope no one notices you, run like hell, or ATTACK. Let’s say you have just been to the gas station where your card has been rejected even though you know there's money in there. Instinct says freeze. Picture yourself standing there like a deer in headlights, nozzle in hand . . . that doesn’t really make sense. Option B: instinct says flee. Picture running screaming away from the pump. Tempting . . . comical . . . but not too practical. The only option left over in your limbic system is to fight. Adrenaline is coursing through you. You’ve seen people do it – kick a trash can (or the gas pump), pound a fist on the roof of the car, or somehow display anger in response to something unexpected. Freeze doesn’t feel powerful. That’s what we do when the consequences for fight are big. Probably you’re not going to slug your jerk boss, though some people certainly do. Freeze is gritting your teeth and holding it in. Flee doesn’t make sense most of the time, though we retreat, throw up our hands and say “I’m done with this” or hang up on someone. Fight is the endgame. We don’t like to feel powerless, that’s for sure. A good angry outburst is awesome for a rush of power. 
I had the opportunity to reflect on this a great deal lately. My darling Max has not gotten enough exercise in recent years, and the first time I took him out this spring, he bucked like crazy down the trail. Thank you very much, I made my 8 seconds and then some. Scared the heck out of the people riding with me, though, one of whom was my daughter who got a stern advisement on the way home that she was NEVER to repeat ANY of those words Mommy said. She thought that was hilarious. Ok, so I’m out for Mom of the year and it’s only April. This past weekend, I was reminded of a clinic I attended with Centered Riding clinican Becky Hart in which she suggested that the appropriate response to your horse who spooks at something is to pet him and reassure him. Funny how I never thought about this. From Max’s perspective, he’s trotting down the trail, sees the evil and clearly dangerous WalMart bag, from which he prepares to flee, and then is suddenly subjected to harsh scolding in a foreign language from up above – the position a predator would take. Holy Jimmy Buffett! Fins to the left! Fins to the right! And Max is sure he’s the only bait in town! I can tell you with certainty that it is not the first thing on most rider’s minds after a sudden jolt to praise and soothe their horse. From the rider's perspective, we just had a near miss and want to holler at them!!! Let them know that they are IDIOTS for the shy at the same lousy tree stump that has been at that spot on the trail all 47,356 times we’ve ridden by it. That’ll teach em . . . that every time they see that tree stump, they’re about to be startled by loud unpleasantries from above. You bet they spook the next time. Darnit. In the words of Dr. Phil, “How’s that workin’ out for ya, Karen?”
So on my 18 mile training ride this past Sunday, I concentrated on managing my fight or flight response. Every time he shied (windy day – lots of bags) I took a deep breath, re-balanced in the saddle, and petted him. Instead of jerking back on the reins to stop the shy, I grabbed my saddle for support and urged him forward. By the end of our ride, he was relaxed, responsive, and comfortable. I did take full advantage of his lack of fluency in English, and expressed my frustration by, in the sweetest, most soothing voice I could muster, saying “Sweet darling Max, keep it up and our next stop is Purina.” Who am I kidding? Even if he could understand me he’d know I was bluffing. Felt a little more powerful though . . . I guess I still have some work to do. Anyone know a good therapist?
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