I read an article over the weekend that deserves mention.
A female baby-boomer, well beyond her “invincible” years, had, after a lifetime of adoring horses from afar, taken up riding, only to find herself in a horribly injured heap on the ground when her horse “inexplicably” bolted. While blessedly relieved to have suffered only minor wounds physically, from an emotional standpoint, she was a wreck, vowing from her hospital gurney to “never ride again.”
She then went on to turn Reality TV into a Fairy Tale. With fanfare, she called up “the source of infatuation so many women have with horses,” the symbiosis we feel with these magnificent animals from our own personal perspectives. And from this heartfelt perspective, she said she was determined to ride her horse again – no matter the trepidation, no matter the fear. She loved her horse so much, and loved the exhilaration of a beautiful ride to the degree that she would follow her dream and fulfill her passion with the horses, no matter the cost.
Are you thinking what I’m thinking? Who is she kidding? It may be noble to express a willingness to courageously get back on your horse and “face your fears,” but without any kind of common sense about feeling confident you can avert disaster the next time (and we all know there will be a next time), the fears remain. And bury themselves deeper. And fester. And wait for another “freak accident” to rise up and “rear it’s ugly head.” It’s a given.

Speaking From Experience
And I say this from experience. Back in my own “invincible” years I was out trail riding and chanced upon a huge herd of llamas who, when they saw us, raced over in a beeline of curiosity, much to the distress of my young Arab who was so overcome with panic that the only thing he could do was take off at mach-speed, backwards, his eyes wildly deadlocked on that herd of alien fluffy beasts. If any of you have ever been on a horse galloping backwards that didn’t flip over, you will know it was a miracle. I was fearful and hesitant on horses for weeks and months (years?) after - even though I tried to tell myself I wasn’t. I laughed it off, joked about it with all of my riding buddies and pretended it was just “one of those things.”

A freak accident.
We women who have opted to play with horses are not wimps. We know horses are an inherently dangerous game. We may be a bit foolish in our feminine “bravada,” but that most of us would like to believe that if we just love our horse enough, he/she will look out for us and make sure nothing bad happens. Because we can have a good cry in our horse’s mane, and share a deep, connected moment when we look into their soulful eyes, if and when something bad does happen, we are crushed, demoralized, floored, surprised, angry. The wind is knocked out of us, physically and spiritually. And our confidence is shattered.
How could this happen? I love my horse - and he bolted. Or he bucked me off. Or he refused to leave the barn (herd) to go for a trail ride. Or he cow-kicked me in the stall. Or, or, or. The list is endless.

Educated Awareness
Educated awareness is the key. We can fortify ourselves with the power of knowing what to do before it happens. We can learn to read our horses so well that nothing comes as a surprise. We can learn to see a bite, a kick, a strike or a rear and, yes, even a bolt (backwards!) coming – and how to avoid, prevent and diffuse these situations. We can learn to feel the first stages of dangerous anxiety building up in a horse we are riding and calmly finesse it right out of them. This is not hocus-pocus. This is honest-to-goodness real knowledge that can bring you powerful protection – and build solid confidence in yourself.
Which will transfer immediately into your horse. When you learn to read your horse with the accuracy that they are reading you (and I assure you they are masters at it and have us all pegged within minutes), they will “know that you know” and appreciate that it is you, rather than them, making the decisions by leading the “dance.” They will begin to see you as a powerful priestess who exorcises their demons. They will begin to willingly trust you and place their vulnerable destiny in your capable hands. And once they do, you will find they, miraculously, focus on you rather than all that spooky stuff out there, lead level-headed, stand still for mounting, stay quiet for tacking, sleep better, stay healthier, calmer and more content.
The primer, the foundation, is learning to read your horse correctly. They are not big dogs. They are the animals that big dogs eat. And they know it. They do not move in packs, they live in herds, and they communicate with a very sophisticated body language based in circles and arcs, not sound and straight lines. If you want your horse to be what you need, you must first be willing to give it what it needs. And what it needs more than anything is for you to communicate with it like another horse, so that it can understand you. For you to learn its language and “speak” with your body like it does. Like anything else, this requires study and practice. It does not come intuitively to people. It is not natural for us to learn and speak “horse.” But we can. And when you become “fluent” the horses are so relieved and so grateful, it will bring tears to your eyes.
We’ve all got war wounds and chilling tales to tell about “life with horses.” And the fact that we’re here to tell them can start to make us feel a bit cocky – the cats with nine lives, so to speak. But I, for one, decided that with 1200 pounds of horse equally responsible for my own precious fate, I would like more working for me than simply “good karma.” I urge you to find some time this week to go out and watch horses at play. Watch their moods change along with their top lines (high-headed = stress and adrenaline, low-headed = calm and valium).
I promise you many “ah ha!” moments of discovery.