United States Eventing Association

Last month we discussed flooding and exposure therapy, two techniques that help us overcome things that overwhelm us. While both are very effective, there are two unfortunate problems with them: (1) some of the things that overwhelm us require more practice than we’re able to give while in the saddle (like twice a week) and (2) some of the things that overwhelm us aren’t exactly the kind of things we want to practice (like falling or reacting to a spook).

You have to agree that when you arrive at the barn, you arrive at a place that’s more than just fences, paddocks, and arenas—it really is your happy place: the place you go to when you need a little positive distraction from the craziness of your crazy world. Unlike other sport venues, however, your happy place isn’t defined by the venue itself but by the relationship with S the trainers, peers, and horses found there.

Sooner or later we’re all going to experience something that’ll leave us feeling a bit uncomfortable, doubtful or even afraid. High-velocity sports like riding often creates these kinds of emotions, but it’s the unpredictable nature of our horses that really fire the fear in many of us.

One of my favorite sayings is, “You don’t win ribbons at horse shows, you only pick them up there.” The idea behind this message is that our ability to succeed is really created in our schooling sessions where we learn and practice the many skills required to ride successfully.

Any day spent with a horse is bound to be a good day, because each and every one of those days will be filled with endless learning experiences and memorable opportunities. Unfortunately, sometimes it can be a bit tricky to see those opportunities for what they are, or even worse, mistakenly view them as obligations, and it can all start with a few innocent words, called obligation-creation phrases, that we might unintentionally mutter to ourselves.

One of the best thing about our sport is that we all get to share it with the people who mean the most to us. Our friends and family have an open-ended invitation to watch our classes, clinics, and competitions; and our trainers, grooms, horse owners, and barn-mates are permanent fixtures at our most meaningful and memorable events.

If you’re like most riders you’ve probably heard someone say something like, “Your last mistake is your best teacher,” or “if you’re doing everything right you’re doing something wrong because you’re in your comfort zone.” While I agree whole-heartedly with these sentiments, I actually prefer, “Equestrians don’t make mistakes. Mistakes make equestrians.” They make us bolder, braver, and brighter; but only when we develop a positive relationship with our mistakes and respond to them in productive ways.

Most people believe skill development is linear, meaning we start from nothing and gradually improve from there. They think the first point on the learning-graph starts low on the left and rises steadily upwards to the right from there. While this seems logical, it’s not actually true. The real graph of skill acquisition looks more like a slight up-slope followed by a plateau, a pit, and a peak.

We all do our best to respect ourselves and believe in our abilities, but sometimes it can be a bit harder than we might expect. As a matter of fact, it’s been proven that we respect and believe in others more than we respect and believe in ourselves!

When something breaks you throw it away. After all, it’s broken. It’s no longer perfect. From cups to cars we seem to let the value of things drop to zero as soon as they get a bit busted. But there’s a 400-year-old Japanese tradition called Kintsugi that might provide us with another alternative.