(“You can imagine what her horse thought of all this.”)

Today, a topic I don’t write about very much—mainly because I find it boring. But balancing my checkbook is boring. So are long drives on the interstate and sweeping the barn aisle. That doesn’t make them any less necessary or worthwhile.

I’m talking about the rider’s seat and position. I probably say less about it than I should because for the most part—other than for some cosmetic details born of laziness—I can make my body do what I want it to on a horse or at least I am aware of when it’s doing something else. If you can’t say the same thing of yourself, then you’ve got some serious homework to do.

The place to start may be on the lunge line even if you “already know how to ride.” When I or teach or ride, I often speak of a conducting seat—one which actively influences the horse’s way of going. But this springs from the premise that all your influences are intentional and carry specific meanings. This presupposes a neutral balance and the ability to follow the horse’s motion passively. The other day I judged a novice rider diligently trying to post in a dressage-like way. Her upper body was painfully erect—almost behind the vertical. Her lower legs were out in front of her, and she used the reins for balance. You can imagine what her horse thought of all this.

As I wrote in the collective marks, “Start with harmony. Find your balance. Be with your horse. Let your body be a stable platform so when you give the aids, your horse will know to believe them.”
Attend to the details of finding your own center and putting it over the middle of the horse. Do the exercises—even the one where you carry the cups of water as you trot—and prove to yourself that your hands and seat are truly independent. It will be a day your horse appreciates forever!