Control

Posted on May 18, 2020 by Ashleigh Sanderson

It’s odd, isn’t it, what suddenly makes us think? Or more, what suddenly makes you put into words what you just know… I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how to teach people to teach, how much I just take for granted and how you actually need to be able to put words to things.

At the moment, I’ve been hanging out with a little mare with a very big attitude. If you didn’t know her, you’d swear she’d kill you. You go to catch her, she pins her ears back, swings her bum to you, squeals with irritation. But if you tell her to knock it off, walk up to her and put her halter on, she’s actually very sweet and obliging, she just likes to pretend. She’s been put onto medication for suspected PPID and has to have 20 tablets, twice a day. It’s pretty simple, crush them in a pestle and mortar, put them in a syringe and squirt them down her mouth. And every morning when I go to give it to her, she pins her ears, walks out of her stall into the little run out the back, swings her bum at me and makes her opinion very known. “I’m not happy with this situation, I’m cross, you’re going to have to make an effort and come and catch me”.

I walk into her stable, out into the run, up to her, pat her, tell her that she’s very beautiful and absolutely in charge, put her halter on, take her back inside, where the syringe is waiting. She needs that moment, to make sure she and I both know that she’s in charge. She’ll agree, if I ask her nicely, but don’t take it for granted.

This morning, without thinking about it, as I went to catch her I was chatting nonsense to her, saying yes Xena, of course you’re in control. And it suddenly a whole lot of stuff make sense…

This is my route in and out of the cycle parking, at least twice a day. And, honestly, it gives me the heebie jeebies at times… (Isn’t that an awesome expression? It’s right up there with discombobulated and splendiferous, just makes you understand in an instant).

Sometimes, without consciously thinking, I just cycle straight through. I’m aiming forward, straight, go, and have acres of room. Other days I’m thinking arrrgh, going hit the tree, going to hit the wall, arrgh, look how close the wall is… And guess what? I have numerous skinned toes, ankles and fingers from those trees and wall… At the moment it’s a bit worse. Why? Because the bike I am currently borrowing has no brakes. Generally, this is ok. The island paths and trails are rough enough that you get a little smooth run downhill, but almost immediately you hit sand or an uphill that slows you down. This path and lack of brakes however, don’t go well together. It dawned on me, as I was chatting to Xena, that on my bike when I have brakes, I know I’m in control. And, if I know I have control, it gives me confidence to zoom through the gaps without thinking, without touching my brakes, and without hitting the walls. And on my brakeless bike, I hesitate… And if you hesitate and look at the wall…. One of the most common things I say to pupils – you go where you look. What you think, you create.

That’s exactly what Xena was telling me this morning. By knowing that she could walk away, by knowing that she moves my feet to follow her, and by pulling sweary marey faces at me, she has control of the situation. She’s in control and its her willingness to accept me and my tube of medicine that allows it to happen, not my control over her. By me allowing her to walk away, I’m giving her the control she needs, to co-operate as a willing partner. Mutual respect.

Unless you go into my space, which I control…

And then, I’m friendly again, as long is it’s on my terms…

Many moons ago, I had an awesome friend who could communicate with animals. And one of the things that she drummed into my head – don’t pick up cats. It’s humiliating, rude and embarrassing. How would you like it if some giant lived in your house and was forever picking you up? You’re snoozing in the sun, and they pick you up. You’re enjoying a bath, and they pick you up. It’s just rude, takes away your control and makes you feel discombobulated (Love that word…) You can’t settle, you feel out of control and unsettled so you bite, scratch or hide under the bed. The little Bat Cat kitten, very early on developed a great trick. If she wanted to be picked up, she’d mew, mew, until you put your hand down. And instantly, if she wanted to be up, she’d half jump into your hand, wrap her paws around your wrist and ask to come up. In this way, she had control. So many people treat animals as dolls to play with – I have a kitten / puppy / tarantula would you like to hold it / pet it / treat it as a living teddy bear. My friend’s cats would sit and watch. If they chose, they’d hop onto the couch next to you. Often, they’d curl up in your lap. But, they were in control, it was their choice and so they were ultra-confident, because they had control. If they didn’t like a situation, they’d leave. Simple.

Think of small kids who are forced to go and hug Great Uncle George, even though they hate Great Uncle George because he makes them feel uncomfortable? But, because the parents insist on manners, they’re forced to go, and they have zero control of the situation. This causes stress, worry, and “bad manners”. Other parents, if the child doesn’t want to go to hug Great Uncle George shrug it off – sorry, they’re just shy. The child leaves with a sense of control and is more confident. The book I’m currently reading about PTSD deals with too – if a person is used to being put into a bad situation and having no say, it becomes their norm, which is a problem…

How many horses have any element of control? They don’t like a situation, tough luck buddy. How often do these conversations happen…

Horse; I don’t like this hard leather girth… I’m going to show you by grinding my teeth, pinning my ears back, kicking out a hind foot, and maybe even biting you…

Human; Don’t be a prat, it’s only a girth. And it was expensive. And matches my name brand saddle.

Horse; I hate being in this cage (stable) so I’m going to box walk and kick the wall…

Human; Arh, pretty pony with a pink blanket, you’ll be warm and dry here…

Horse; I’m not cold, I don’t need a rug, I’m going to snap at you as you put it on, and then rip it off…

Human; Don’t you be bad and break your expensive new pink blanket…

Horse; I can’t go forward, my feet hurt and you’re pulling my mouth.

Human; Don’t be lazy or I’ll wear bigger spurs…

The horse is trying to have some control over his life. He’s trying to show what makes him unsettled or uncomfortable, and so often, we take away what little control he has over his life and environment. And when you can’t apply the brakes at all, suddenly you feel pretty out of control… How do you think learned helplessness happens?

The Art of Long Lining

Posted on May 16, 2020 by Ashleigh Sanderson

I clearly remember many, many years when I was doing my GCSE in Horsemanship (Yes, it was a thing, an actual school exam, equivalent to O levels, in Horses) at the local riding school. It was a two year course, a few hours a week and counted as one of your exams. Our instructor introduced us to long lining, and I was hooked.

Continental long lining keeps the reins safely away from the horse’s hind legs…. I don’t ride with my hands by his hocks, why would I want to train with the reins coming from there?

She used her own mare, as none of the school ponies had been taught how to work on lines, but she was a firm believer. So, we all had a go at driving her mare around and around the indoor. Looking back, it was basic, Irish lining, but it planted the seed.

Roll on, over the years and I’ve been lucky enough to have worked with some true long lining geniuses who showed me what an amazing, powerful, art form it really is. Many of these people weren’t great teachers. They’d be working a horse, with me watching intently, and then hand me the reins. Initially, those poor horses had to try and decipher my fumbled attempts. This was the first, and truly one of the best lessons in conscious / unconscious competence.

These trainers had no idea how good they were at doing this, and generally no idea how to teach it. I bumbled my way along, and found my way on unconscious competence, over the years.

A few years ago, someone who I have utmost respect for, as a trainer and teacher, asked me to teach her to long line. I said, uh, I don’t think I can. I pick up the reins and it’s like coming home. I can see the horse isn’t straight, or is twisting, or loading a limb, and I can fix it. But, I don’t necessarily know how I did it. So began a process. I did teach her to long line. I’d do a bit, she’d watch and talk through what she thought I was doing. She’d do a bit, I’d watch and see what I could change in her body, with my words. My turn again, I’d focus on certain bits of my body, or where my attention was going. And, we made progress.

One day, her horse wasn’t doing a movement well or easily. I took the reins, and couldn’t solve the issue either. When I thought about why not, I realized that I was actually trying to put what I was doing into words, I couldn’t do anything right. As soon as I just let the thought go and trusted my instinct, the horse performed the movement beautifully.

So, why am I going on about all this now?

This horse is showing us how his crookedness is highlighted and encouraged by work on one lunge line. How would you correct this on the lunge? I’m not convinced that you could… But, on long lines things could be changed — This horse is showing us how his crookedness is highlighted and encouraged by work on one lunge line. How would you correct this on the lunge? I’m not convinced that you could… But, using long lining things could be changed

Long lining is such a vital part of my toolkit. Most issues can be resolved on the lines, and humans improve as riders too. Their hands get softer, their eye improves and clarity sinks in. Many people work their horses in hand, and then under saddle, but this crucial link is missed out, making the horse’s life and understanding more difficult. Long lining done badly can be incredibly harmful. And having ropes down, around the hocks is dangerous, but done correctly, and with the reins held up by the withers, its magic.

I have been teaching this more and more over the past few years, and everyone who discovers this skill is hooked.

Want to find out more and sign up?

Just follow the link: Long Lining Course!

Why I am talking about this now? Finally I’ve made a plan to teach this online… It’s in two sections, this, first section is explaining the basics – what it means, equipment you need, how to start. Next section will be the skills to start to change and improve your horse’s way of going. I’m excited to be able to share this magic, hope you’ll join me for the ride!

The gorgeous Blue helps to teach this course, here, by showing how to get a horse who is clearly crooked…..

Find out more and Book Now!

Confidence or Competence

Posted on May 11, 2020 by Ashleigh Sanderson

Confidence or Competence

One of the yards where I used to work, had a long and involved insurance form to fill out before we could let clients ride. I was always interested in one particular answer and would read it before going out to teach them.

After the usual Name, Address, Age etc, it asked, what is your riding experience? And gave a list, from which you had to pick one answer.

I have never ridden.

I have ridden at walk.

I have walked, trotted and tried / can rise to trot.

I have cantered.

I can canter, could complete a simple dressage test and jump.

I could ride any horse in any circumstances.

It amazed me, the number of people who would tick the last option. If they did, I would ask them about it. And, tell them that I’d never tick that box…

“But, you’re the instructor?” they’d say.

Tomala (grey) and Ballybay – two very challenging mares who struggled to find riders

And I’d answer that I would be happy to ride most horses in most circumstances, but certainly not all. A bucking bronco in a rodeo? Uh, no. A racehorse in the Grand National? No thanks. A “show horse” tight in rolkur and stressed about his upcoming dressage test? No, just no. So, any horse in any situation? No.

Confidence vs competence is a question that comes up at times and should come up a lot more. As a kid, we were taught to ride without stirrups, bareback, backwards, and some of the ponies we got thrown onto… Well, they were interesting. But, we leant how to ride through most situations on a variety of horses. We got more confident, and wham bam, a pony would ditch us, and we’d come back to earth, literally.

Roll on a few years, and I had a couple of difficult ponies in my yard. It started to become more and more challenging to find riders for these ponies. Parents would much rather pay for readymade, easier ponies for their little twinkle to get on, and win on from day one, than for them to possibly have falls and challenges with a tricky pony.

When teaching in certain countries now, health and safety rears its (often ugly, in my opinion) head. In some places, we can still do no stirrups etc, but in many places’ things have to be ultra-safe. And yes, kids should be safe. I always insist on them wearing helmets, body protectors are mandatory in some yards, ponies should be appropriate to the level of rider, comfortable and safe tack, etc,. But, it’s important that riders develop competence and an understanding of where they are at, as fast as their confidence grows.

And so, ponies who need a better rider, and a rider who thinks, are often redundant because no suitable rider exists. And we are seeing more and more over bitted, gadget-ed up, draw reined in horses, because the riders simply can’t cope. Their expectation of their ability far outweighs their reality. Watch show jumping videos from 20 years ago – most horses were in snaffles, cavesson nosebands, maybe a martingale. Some didn’t even have boots. The riders were truly competent – they were masters at the craft. Now, with the ridiculous amount of bitting up, nosebands, gadgets? Many are confident, not competent.

So, why bother? Does it make a difference?

This is competence... John Whitaker and Milton, jumping at the absolute top of their game, in a simple snaffle bridle and long running martingale. No gadgets in sight... — HP0GM4 World Equestrian Games, Stockholm, 1990, John Whitaker (GBR) riding Milton – This is competence… John Whitaker and Milton, jumping at the absolute top of their game, in a simple snaffle bridle and long running martingale. No gadgets in sight…

And, this, sadly, is not... — And, this, sadly, is not…

Oh yes. At another yard where I worked, we instructors didn’t have anything to do with taking bookings. We would just get the message of a rider / pair / group of riders coming in, ages, weights and experience – beginner, intermediate or advanced. We had, in the yard, a variety of horses to choose from, some very simple and safe for beginners, some who would be a little bit faster or more challenging and some nice, educated horses for experienced riders, who we just couldn’t put novices onto. And, do you know the number of people who would book as advanced, and just their approach to the horses would tell us that they were beginners. “How much experience do you actually have?” I asked more than once. Ah, I rode my grandpa’s horses around the farm 20 years ago – I know what I’m doing, and I want to go fast. Most of the time we’d sigh, return the horse we had ready and get a quieter one out. Occasionally we’d stick with the horse who was ready, if the client was rude and belligerent about their riding ability. Didn’t happen often, but generally didn’t end well.

An extreme example of this was a rider a while ago. I vaguely knew them, had met a couple of times over the years. I heard through the grapevine that they’d been killed in a riding accident. On talking to the trainer where it happened, she said that the horse was actually really nice, but too much for him. He’d bought the horse because it was big, flashy, extravagant and the dealer / agent had told him he looked great on it. If he’d had a slightly steadier horse, chances are that it wouldn’t have happened. And the horse now is going well for a new owner who has more experience. A tragedy that wouldn’t have happened if the rider’s competence had grown in tune with his confidence.

Closer to home, a friend and I booked a beach ride about a year ago. When we arrived, she told the guide that yes, she was very experienced, had ridden her whole life, had horses (all of which is true), while I told him, yes, I can ride a bit. She looked at me with raised eyebrows. As I had anticipated, I got an awesome little horse who tootled along on a long rein, allowing me to sit back, relax and enjoy the scenery, while she got a hot little youngster who spooked and pranced his way along, keeping her with her hands full. Who had the best ride?

So, next time that you’re off to ride an unknown horse, or are looking to buy a horse, ask yourself first, am I more confident, or more competent? I know which one I’d rather…

Attendance or achievement?

Posted on May 4, 2020 by Ashleigh Sanderson

This is something really important to me, and I’ve had it mind to write about for ages, but watching events unfold in front of me has clarified it again.

Attendance or Attainment. What does the difference mean to you?

Attendance is to attend something. To have made an appearance. Last summer I did a lot of CPD days, (continued professional development days) and at the end, we were given our “6 hours CPD” certificates, whether or not we slept through it, interacted, agreed, disagreed or learnt. Some were awesome, others were… Well…

Attainment is to achieve. When I was head of testing for the Pony Club, I had no issues failing the kids. Well, let’s rephrase that. When I was lecturing them, I’d always prepare them for the grade above what we were doing. If they were aiming for C test, I’d make sure they could pass their C+ with flying colours. Partly because I don’t believe in failure. Partly because, coming from little old Zimbabwe (and teaching a lot of embassy / expat kids) I wanted to make sure the standards were high, so that when these kids went back to the first world they came from, people would be impressed with their knowledge gathered in Africa, not be making exceptions for them. But, if I was examining and an unprepared kid, or a kid with a know-it-all attitude came along, I’d fail them. Later, as an examiner for The South African National Equestrian Federation, I did fail a fairly high proportion of instructor hopefuls. If you can’t do the skills, you don’t get your bit of paper just for attending. It’s that simple.

A lot of courses are only aimed at giving enough information so that participants can answer the questions. “Here is a 100-page book to study… You really only need to read chapter 5 and read the list of past questions on page 89, because that’s where the exam questions come from”. How often have you heard that one? I have. And that, I think, is attendance, not attainment.

Albert Einstein is credited with the quote – “If you can’t explain it simply, you don’t understand it well enough”.

To this end, when I was Chief Instructor for the Pony Club, all the older kids had to lecture the younger ones. The older C+ kids lectured the E and D kids. The B and A test kids lectured the D+’s and C’s. It freed up instructor’s time, but it was mainly to clarify things for the older kids. If you can’t explain to a 10-year-old how to assemble a bridle, maybe you don’t understand it well enough yourself…

Why am I thinking of all of this now? I’m sitting at a dive centre, (https://www.facebook.com/lutwaladive/) watching some people do their PADI Rescue Diver Course. In some centres, the course is done in about 2 / 3 days. A morning watching videos. An afternoon in the pool. A day in the sea. Wham, Bam, thank you M’am, you’ve attended the course, here’s you bit of paper. Here, it’s a bit different. Breaking down the skills. Doing the theory, then in the pool. Then the sea. Back to watching the video, reading the book, discussing the scenarios. In the water, out of the water. This morning, there was a “accident”. Oh My Word, someone is “drowning” out to sea, quickly, quickly, can someone rescue him – Oh The Drama… It’s taking up a good week. They’ve had to drag in a body against the tide – exhausted rescuers. They had to hunt for a weight belt and plot the search area. They haven’t attended the course, they’ve learnt the information, they’ve done everything practically. They’ve taken twice as much time, been tired and overwhelmed, and they have understood. Some people would be bored and frustrated. And you know what? If I were to have an accident, or to get lost at sea, do you know who I’d rather have out looking for me? The ones who have attended a two-day course, or the ones who have achieved pulling in a “dead body” against the current and plotted a proper search area?

When I learnt to dive, we took it really slow. My dive instructor was pedantic about safety and understanding. We went through the theory, we did all the drills, we worked out the compass and plotting on land. We tested, learnt, practiced, practiced. It helped that he was my friend. It helped that we had no rush. It helped that he taught some of the world’s biggest VIP’s and so had to be ultra-cautious. And, I learnt properly, carefully, thoroughly, and so it made sense.

A couple of years ago, I did a two-day free diving course. There was a set syllabus. Morning one – yoga practice. Pool practice. Afternoon one, yoga practice, pool practice. Skills 1, 2, 3, 4. Day two, pool practice, afternoon, sea practice, you WILL dive to 20m, stay 30 seconds, come back up. The instructor was disinterested. He had a list to follow, we were drilled through his list. He damn near drowned me, and I didn’t finish the course. He was unprepared and only had one thought in mind – to get through his two days.

See the difference?

As a pupil, which way would you rather learn? As an instructor, honestly, how do you teach?

Are you doing your required reading?

Posted on April 27, 2020 by Ashleigh Sanderson

Oh, I may tread on some toes here – there is a fine line to this one.

When I start teaching a new pupil, one of the first things that I ask them – who is the most important teacher you will ever have? Sometimes, if their full-time coach is near, I see them (the coach) grow a little taller, lean a little nearer….. Am I going to say me? Am I going to say them? No. The most important trainer in your life, for ever and always, at any given time, is the four-legged coach you are sitting on / leading / handling. He is the only one who truly knows the impact of how you are sitting or what you are doing, and he is the only one who has zero ego or pre-existing opinions. If you do something right, comfortable or clear, he says yes. If you are fuzzy, rough or unfocused, he says no. It’s that simple.

I’m just the co-coach – it’s the two big brown boys here who are the real teachers

I read a huge amount, but I tend not to read equine books. I read books on philosophy, movement, psychology, martial arts, diving – I think I’d read the phone book if I had nothing else, but horse books? A few, but not often… Yes, way back in the dark ages, I read the Pony Club Manual and, and, and, all the required text needed to lay down the base rules, keep me and my pupils safe, pass my BHS exams etc, but not many of the “Classical Training” manuals.

A few days ago, a very good friend who I trust implicitly, sent me a message – “read this book, but you’ll hate me for it.” I dutifully downloaded it and began to read. Yes, I don’t fully like what I’m reading, a lot of it is close to the bone, but it’s good stuff… That’s a whole other story. But the bit that prompted this?

“The lack of literature on the topic was a handicap, but my great teacher, Elvin Semrad, had taught us to be skeptical about textbooks. We had only one real textbook, he said: our patients. We should trust only what we could learn from them – and from our own experience.”

Later in the text, this doctor asks his professor, “Would you call this patient X syndrome or Y syndrome….?” And the great professor said, “I’d call him Michael”. The more we read, very often the more we over think and over complicate.

Some of the greatest horse trainers who I have ever seen working with horses have never read a book in their lives. Often, kids can do amazing things with ponies. Have they read the classic trainers works? No, they’re still learning “The cat sat on the mat”. So, how do they do it, without all this learning that we must do, reading we must focus on, lessons we need to be taught? They follow their gut, use their intuition and watch and listen to their ponies. Can I tell you a secret? The ponies haven’t read the books either…

I am often asked, how do I plan my lessons? How do I know what to teach, when? And currently, I’m sitting in front of my laptop trying to put together a course that many people have requested – and the problem is – I just don’t know. When I sit to write, things like this, they just appear on my laptop screen in front of me, but when I try to write a technical “How to”, I often get stuck…. Well, it depends on this, or that. It depends on who the pupil is, how they think, the structure of their horse or the quality of their interaction. Things cannot truly be taught by reading text, the only way to learn is to look at the horse in front of you and ask him questions.

I love Leonardo Da Vinci, because when I look at his sketches, that’s how I see things too. If you look at his Vitruvian Man ( https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vitruvian_Man ), that is how horses appear in my mind – I’m drawing angles and lines on them, seeing them in motion, seeing what they need or don’t… How can a textbook teach that, when there are around 59 million horses in the world, and they’re all different? Where do you even begin?

Seen in London, at a Leonardo exhibition – just love his work

There’s a balance, between practical, awesome horse people who read loads and still allow horses to teach them, and those people who read all the dusty old tomes, can spout off how Classical Trainer X taught Y, but couldn’t recognise a horse if it walked out in front of them.

I love the fact that this professor and author have the same belief. The author of this book says that for one year they were not allowed to read textbooks – and since then he has been the most voracious of readers, devouring everything he could get his hands on. But that year got him to stop thinking in his head and start to look, listen, feel and notice what his patients were there to teach him… Could you go a year without reading, and learn to listen to your gut? Your most important teacher may well be thanking you…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=soSTiBnug1Y

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4OxI3XA9fMs

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DMVTAHmwkkU

Under Pressure

Posted on April 6, 2020 by Ashleigh Sanderson

What’s got me thinking this week? Pressure – what does that mean to you?

I was working with a young filly a bit ago, she was a 3yr old Thoroughbred who had raced and rested due to an injury. She was just beginning to come back into fittening work. I met with the owner, who asked if I could start teaching him how to work with her. She was fresh, full of herself, and would have been asked to knuckle down and behave quite quickly. I really liked her, and said I would take her on, because then I could play quietly, just in a rope halter, letting her play, asking a bit more, backing off and letting her play… In my opinion, I wasn’t putting her under any pressure. I was chatting to someone about her, and they said – maybe take the pressure off her? An eye opener for me, since I was already thinking I was giving her time…

What do I consider pressure, what do you consider pressure?

There is a great lady in US, called Hilary Clayton. She’s a researcher in the equine industry, and I think she’s absolute gold. She was speaking a little bit ago and said – pick your poison. (I’m adding in my thoughts here). What ever we do with our horses, has a poisonous element. Keep your horse stabled – he’ll be warm and dry… And may well go stir crazy, develop vices and be majorly stressed… But, he’s dry, right? Keep your horse living in a paddock – he may develop mud fever, rain scald, lose his shoes in the mud, but he’ll be happier, saner, probably overall healthier. Which version of the poison resonates best with you? Ride your horse bitless – he shouldn’t have a bit in his mouth… And, if you don’t fix your own position, you’ll just stop him breathing and damage his nose, which is just as sensitive as his mouth. Ride with a bit – you’ll generally get a better contact and if you have a balanced seat, you shouldn’t be hooking him in the teeth anyway… But, he’ll have a metal bar in his mouth, and if you lose your balance… Ride with a treeless saddle – it may well cause pain and rubbing under the stirrup bars… Ride in a saddle with a tree, it may cause friction and pressure on his back. In any interaction we have with animals, horses in particular, we create pressure. And, you have to choose the pressure that most aligns with your own morals.

saddle with a tree, or saddle without... — saddle with a tree, or saddle without…

I really dislike round pens. If I work in one, I feel claustrophobic and stuck – where is the escape. But, I’m happy to work in a larger place. Horses are prey animals – they are aware of who would like to eat them for dinner, even after all of these years of domestication. We, like it or not, are predators. A horse can tell – it’s the way we move, the speed of our movements, the set of our eyes. Now, if you lock me in a circle with a tiger, I’m going to be a little stressed and yes, I’m going to move my feet. Even if the tiger “creates a safe place” and invites me in, I’m not going to fully relax in that circle. I want my horse to be able to move away from me. I want to give him the choice of come or go. I don’t want to force, or add the pressure, of being so confined. Added to that, hello, horses are not designed to run around in circles. How often will you see a herd of wild horses trotting circles in the middle of the savannah? It’s bad for their joints, their tendons, their ribcages and their balance. I want to be able to move my horse on the end of the lunge, straight and forward, softly around me, towards and away, and for him to have the space to object if he isn’t a willing participant.

I don't like working in round pens, I would much rather give the horse room to move around me. — I don’t like working in round pens, I would much rather give the horse room to move around me.

In today’s society, pressure is everywhere. We are under pressure to create the perfect life for social media, the perfect photo worthy plates of food, buy the right furniture, work in the highly esteemed careers, and be available to our bosses all day every day, whenever that little phone notification buzzes. Horses are under that pressure too… Learn shoulder in today, jump higher tomorrow, be ready to compete at X level by next month. All too often, the horse is prepared for a circle ringing the date on the calendar, rather than by watching his reactions, his posture, the way he is building up and his mental health. And, it’s breaking them.

When buying horses for clients, I won’t go to professional dealer or producers. Why? Because, the horse has been treated as a product, an item that needs fixing before it is prepped for sale. There is a huge difference between a horse who has been trained, schooled, educated, and a horse who has been produced for the young horse classes, or for sale. He’s a product with a price tag, and everyday of work means less profit.

What pressure do you choose to put your horse under? If someone said to you, reduce the pressure on the horse, would it make you question what you are doing? Would it make you back off? Is your horse happy and coping with the amount of pressure you’re adding? How good are you at picking your poison?

Starting Over

Posted on March 23, 2020 by Ashleigh Sanderson

Oh, I so don’t want to write this. And chances are, by tomorrow I’ll delete or, or bury it in the back of a file to never see the light of day, but it wants to be written, and I won’t get back to sleep until I do… Its 3am, and the earth gently shook us awake – I’m currently sitting in the middle of the “Ring of fire”, and little shakes are a very common occurrence. In itself, it probably wouldn’t have woken me, but, just dozing, my brain was racing and flighting with my heart, so any excuse to get up, right? (P.S. #1. It wasn’t such a gentle little shake – at 4.7 it was a big enough bounce…)

This whole Covid 19 thing has every one a little shook up. But it strikes me from a different angle. I don’t see people scared to die, but people who are scared to live.

Mr Grey – the heart break and trauma this little horse caused me…

I helped to treat a cat yesterday / today (depending on how you see 3am, it really is the middle of the night in my books….) He looked dead, lying in his cage, and part of the reason I’m sitting doing this is to wait for light to go and see if he is a dead patient or a live patient in his hospital bed. He’d been brought in, badly dehydrated, eyes and nose pus-filled and gummed shut, very weak and skinny. My friend said – he won’t live and went to get the right drugs, and as I sat with him, I said, please can we try… A saline drip, some anti-biotic, clean swabs to wipe his eyes and mouth. My heart agreed, give him the magic blue stuff and let him sleep. My brain got in the way – we can save him; he deserves a fighting chance. (P.S. #2….. The cat didn’t make it. I went to check him this morning, but he’d gone in the night. I’m a little bit sad…)

Years ago, a friend and I were working in a yard, where there were some ancient, almost blind and toothless old ponies who were still wheeled out for the tiny kids lead rein walks. We, privately, called them “The Walkers”. As in, the walking dead. The mind and the brain – they aren’t the same thing at all. The brain can make the heartbeat, and the gut digest, the legs move. But, just because the brain is functioning, doesn’t mean the mind is at home.

In horses we have a name for this – learned helplessness. The horse has tried to work out the world, he has tried to fight back against too much pressure, an unfair workload, or a bad situation, and been forced through his literal kicking over of the traces. He can’t fight back anymore, and so slips into learned helplessness, where his body complies, but his eyes betray him.

I don’t think I’m scared to die. I’m not about to jump off the roof – don’t worry – but when my time comes, it’s ok. The secret is – we’re all dying, right? Death and taxes. And, sadly, this virus is making an awful lot of people face this awfully fast. But, it isn’t just the fear of dying. It’s the fear of financial collapse, and the fear of losing someone close to you, the fear of the unknown, the fear of…? The fear of thinking, maybe you’re not bullet proof.

What makes me sad, is how many people out there are walkers already, and it’s those people who are most scared about this. They get up in the morning, they get dressed, they go to work. They come home, they have dinner, they go to bed. And in the morning, they get up, they get dressed and they go to work. Their brain is driving them, but they have lost their soul. Someone recently was telling me about the difference between motivation and inspiration. The motivated keep being motivated to get up, get dressed and go to work. The inspired, live.

I’ve been involved with many, many horses and animals who have died. When you rescue them, many don’t survive. I understand why the suicide rate in vets and animal rescue is so high. Often, more often than people realize, my threat to go hammock testing and give up on horses isn’t a joke. As I sat, holding that cat, there is a huge internal conflict – let him die peacefully, with two people who care, or stuff him full of drugs that probably won’t help him and leave him alone in a cage, to die without someone near. And when I deal with a horse who is shut down because his owner is too competitive, or a horse who is sore because someone hasn’t noticed how bad his saddle is – I could walk away and not come back.

But if I do walk away, how much will I become one of the walking dead myself? For whatever reason, animals and I are so intrinsically connected. Recently I was talking to someone about how often I come into contact with animals, just to help them die. She said, it’s an honour, like being midwife to their soul. I can’t go that far – but sometimes it’s the gift you can give them when they’ve suffered too much already. And, if and when I do walk away from the horses, I know I’ll disconnect with a part of me.

This virus, I think, is asking people to reconnect with that part of themselves, the part that I’d lose. The part that many people are scared to wake up. It’s asking people to sit quietly. (Oooh, that’s so my challenge…) It’s asking them to re-evaluate. It’s asking them to ask, if I don’t do my normal, what else is possible? It’s asking you to sit still with your horse, your cat, your dog, your family, your own mind, and reconnect. Years ago, a bank had the slogan – “Where will your spark take you”. I’ve always loved that concept. The virus is asking people to find their spark, because so many people have lost it. I, personally, need to process some stuff, I need to see what is possible, and, in coming to a little speck of a tropical island, I’ve got time for debating what is possible. The timing, for me, couldn’t have been better.

What’s possible for you? Where is your spark going to take you, on your new adventure, post Covid 19?

Staying Home …

Posted on March 20, 2020 by Ashleigh Sanderson

I’ve thought about this before, began writing it, stopped, started again, deleted it. And at the moment, it’s fresh in my mind again.

I don’t actually live anywhere – most people know that. No house, no rent, no furniture, no ties. Which I think is perfect.

“Where do you live?”

“Well, now, this week, I live in Gili Trawangan, but last week I lived in Bali, the week before that, I lived in Singapore.”

“Where did you come from?”

“Well, do you mean which airport? Or last week? Or last long-haul flight? Or???”

And, what’s really blown me away this past week, is the number of messages that I’ve had, saying, are you OK? Please come home, your bed (and Cat) are waiting for you… So many people saying that their home is my home, and that if I need somewhere to hold up, their house is open. Which, I find incredibly humbling… Someone asked me a while ago if I consider myself wealthy. My reply was, if I look at my bank account, no. But yes, I am incredibly wealthy, as this week has proved.

Another friend said, please get to England as fast as possible – you need to be with family and friends. That’s a challenge, with my mom in South Africa and brothers in UK and Kenya, as well as cousins in every corner of the globe – family is not place, anymore than home is. When people have been forced from their native country due to politics, and have scattered worldwide, “home” is no longer there, so, where is the new home?

And so, my reply to her – well, I am home. I have ponies, and I have the sea. In every country, wherever you go, you walk into a stable yard, and you could be anywhere. Any yard, has the same routine – you count the number of pony legs and divide by four… Is everyone alive and healthy, does everyone look happy and anticipating breakfast? Is the grumpy mare putting her ears back, is the greedy one nickering for his feed? Top up empty water buckets. Take around the hay. Mix breakfast feeds. Open paddocks, unlock tack rooms, muck out stables, scrub out water buckets, empty wheelbarrows, put horses out… In any yard, I can just get on and help with yard work, because horses are horses, no matter where they are. And yards are yards, mucking out, sweeping, scrubbing feed bins, it’s all the same. Same same but different, as they say in Asia.

Horses speak the same language, no matter what dialect the words come from. They need the same things, they offer the same things. You can move them backwards or forwards with a gesture or a glance, they co-operate with the human, the human co-operates with the pony.

In big yards, grooms are bantering, yelling light-hearted abuse. In racing yards, the appies touch their stick to their cap – “mornin’ m’am”. The sun comes up slowly, horses start moving out, hooves on concrete, horses calling, bits being crunched. In competition yards, the first strings go to the horse walker, or out hacking with the grooms, the trainers head to arenas. In riding schools, lessons begin, the words of the instructors always follow a familiar cadence, no matter the language. Which country are you in? It doesn’t matter, welcome home, welcome to the familiar, the feel of routine and peace.

If you think you’re lost, or far from home, the horses will welcome you and remind you that they create home, it’s not a place, it’s a feeling. It’s the sounds, sights, smells of the yard waking up, ready for another day.

In normal time, my usual life before social distancing and lockdown, I’m generally at home, even though my passport will show that I’m in a far-off country.

In a couple of yards where I go often, I’ll be standing talking to a human, or watching a horse work, or teaching, and I’ll hear a whicker, or feel a bump in the small of my back, as one of my four legged friends sees that I’ve arrived and hauls their human over so they can say hi, or nickers until they call me over. They replace being able to pop to a familiar coffee shop or visiting a childhood friend. They hold the space, and always offer a “welcome home”.

The Value of the Plastic Pony.

Posted on March 10, 2020 by Ashleigh Sanderson

In Singapore, I teach some of my clinics on a simulator horse, called Plastic Jack. And, honestly, I think Plastic Jack is worth his weight in gold.

A lot of people will have seen them – life size “horses” sitting atop a platform and computer, allowing them to halt, walk, trot and canter. The movement feels similar to that of a live horse, although not exactly the same since he isn’t swinging his weight along with all four legs.

A few times now, I have gone simulator indoor skydiving, mainly to figure out exactly how I’m using my core and how I can influence my direction and stability with nothing to reach out and hold onto, or floor to push off. Last time, I chatted to the dive instructor and asked him how lifelike it was. Similar, was his reply. You get the upward push of air, but you don’t get the pockets of turbulence, the sudden rush of up or down draught, and you certainly don’t get the cross wind. When flying through the air outside, you get wind from all directions, in a simulator tube, it’s all one way. (As I write this, sitting in a plane, I can certainly vouch for what happens with up draughts, down draughts and cross winds). A wind tunnel is too regular and even. And, that is similar to what happens on Plastic Jack. He’s very safe. No one has fallen off, you don’t even have to wear a hard hat, and there isn’t any tilt through his corners, or falling in or out around the circle, but it’s as close as.

Now, some people sit on a version of Jack for 5 minutes, use the pressure sensors and get a read out of what the pony’s sensor panels have to say – you are 56% to the left, and 63% tipping forwards. And that, in my opinion, is a bit worth less. A fun joyride, sure, but does it actually teach you anything or help?

Where Jack comes into his own, is when we can play. Before the rider gets on, we work through a whole variety of exercises to understand and experiment through tensegrity and alignment. We’ve sat on Styrofoam or polystyrene balls, blown up balloons, and pulled each other around. We’ve thought of how balls bounce, how violin strings are tensioned and how our diaphragm works. And, we’ve watched videos of Charlotte and worked through photographs of the last Olympics. Now, finally, we get on Plastic Jack and we play with low tensegrity, high tensegrity, having both seat bones, stability of the fascia spiral lines using bands, and the way in which blowing up a balloon activates the core. By having Jack cantering along in one place, I can stand next to the rider and place my hands where I want them too, asking them to push one side of their pelvis, fill in their back, breathe to their kidneys or rest their head against the head rest in their car in a much clearer way than they ever could sitting atop a real live, moving horse. The proof comes in the next day, when their regular coach says – Oh My, I can see a change in your riding…

So, you up for a challenge? Find out if there is a local version of Plastic Jack and go along for a lesson. It can be tricky to find someone to actually teach you on one, rather than just getting a printout, but if you can find a horse and a trainer, magic will happen!

My reading list …

Posted on March 2, 2020 by Ashleigh Sanderson

Sometimes, you read a book and it fills you with this weird evangelical zeal, and you become convinced that the shattered world will never be put back together unless and until all living humans read the book.
–John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

I am a reader – I always have two, three, sometimes four books on the go. There’ll be something light, easy fiction to waste time in an airport. A horse textbook of some description, and something technical, on coaching, or physics, or anatomy, or philosophy or, or… And so, when asked about a book, it’s always tricky – oh, where to start?

One of my first favourites, obviously, was Black Beauty, way back when. I recently found an old copy of it, and re-read it, just to see. It’s like sitting down to tea and conversation with an old friend.

We read it now, almost 150 years after it was written (1877) and are fairly horrified at some of the things in it. Taking horses into war. Carriage horses hauled up into a frame with bearing reins. Horses working as pit ponies. All things that most people now are not so happy with.

(Yes, bearing reins still exist, now, more politely called overcheck or side check, but hopefully (naïvely?) they aren’t over tightened as they were for poor old Black Beauty).

But, as I was reading, I wondered, if someone re-wrote Black Beauty now, what would people in 2170 be thinking?

Rolkur, or LDR jumps up. Is that as bad as sending horses into war? Cranking shut nosebands, the need for blood rules at competitions? Western classes and races for 2-year olds? Will riding horses at all be frowned upon – there is already a group of people who say that any work on horses is cruel and unnatural. Will we even still keep horses as companions, or will the only horses be those who live wild? Will there still be horses at all, the rate our green spaces are being consumed. Or, will we still have them, but only living in high rise apartment type blocks.

If books can truly change the way we think, can we not take a few lessons from Anna Sewell. What worries you now, that will be looked at in a few years to come, and have our descendants asking, just how did they get away with that???