A Perceptions, Not Deceptions

(“‘OMG, he’s so ______,’ they often respond.”)

The faint of heart should not view videos of their own riding! It’s hardly ever as good as you imagine it to be. What feels light and airy, when studied after-the-fact, appears dull. That posture which in your own mind radiates grace and elegance looks slouched or rigid or something when you critique it. For this very reason many famous actors and singers refuse to watch their own performances.

But suck it up, my friend and make yourself watch. If you’re Luciano Pavarotti, you already know what you sound like, and although rehearing a mistake may make you cringe, in your own mind you already know exactly what that mistake was.

This is entirely NOT the case with most riders. More often than not, there’s a disconnect between what riders think they’re doing and what’s really taking place. While the LDR faction does exist, there are many more people who would put their horses’ poll in the right place if they were aware that it’s too low (or too high or that the neck was too short or that the neck was too long.)

A ground person, mirrors, cavaletti spaced to produce the right length of stride, video—even your shadow—are ways to get some feedback, to compare your subjective perception to objective reality.

Lately during lessons I’ve been using my iPhone to take a couple of snapshots or a 15 second video to show a rider in real-time how her horse looks. “OMG, he’s so ______,” they often respond.

This is not to say a bit of fantasizing is a bad thing. I am fond of that old line that speaks to the difference between neurosis and psychosis. A neurotic, they say, builds castles in the air. A psychotic lives in them. Years ago young boys all mimicked Larry Bird wiping off the soles of his sneakers even though they were playing on a rough asphalt driveway and not a slick hardwood court. As kids we all adopted the mannerism of knocking the mud off our cleats as we stepped into the batter’s box. It hardly mattered that none of us wore cleats. If you imagine yourself as Charlotte Dujardin cantering down the centerline on Valegro, that’s okay with me.

But if you’re jamming your horse into a tight little ball and forcing him to do movements for which his muscles and his mind aren’t ready, then fantasy has gone a step too far. Except in the most egregious cases, I believe it is impolitic for an outside observer to intervene. I have a separate bone to pick with the self proclaimed “Know Nothing” police. They, unfortunately, are the source of most interventions, thereby giving intervention a bad name.

So the plea I direct to you is to self analyze—in an objective, angst-free way to get a handle on what you’re actually doing. While I don’t think outsiders should be volunteering unbidden advice, you as a rider should feel free to ask for advice.You may want to be the final arbiter, but be willing to listen to what knowledgeable people have to say. You may have to be brave to do it, but it will surely keep you on the path which has been traveled before with success.