I find that horse people are very particular. They have strong feelings about how things should be done, from how to lead a horse or put on a bridle how to train a horse.
When I was a kid I took lessons at a local stable and learned the basics of being around horses. As an adult, I moved around a lot and if I was lucky, would meet horse people and get opportunities to ride. When I met someone new I would start out doing things as I had been taught previously and sometimes would be reprimanded for my behavior. For example, I was taught that when you approach a horse with an object such as a brush or a saddle, let him sniff it before you move it towards his body. When I did this with a warmblood I had be invited to ride I was firmly told by the owner, “don’t do that!” So, I stopped. Then, at the next barn I was scolded for not letting the horse sniff an object.
Over the years, moving from place to place and meeting different people, all of whom had their own way, I learned to adapt. But I found it very confusing. Who is right, I wondered. How can there be so many different ways? Everyone was so certain they were correct!
My confusion was exacerbated by my upbringing – my father saw the world in black and white. He believed that there was only one correct answer to every question and one right way to do everything. There was no gray, no room for differing opinions.
So, imagine me, trying to navigate all these people – lovely, kind, accomplished horse people – telling me different things. Which advice was correct?
This dilemma arose in another area of my life in a way that finally allowed me to break free. I took up woodworking and tried to learn all the best techniques. My sister asked me to make her a tansu step chest – a relatively obscure and complicated piece of Japanese furniture that has a particularly complex joint, which I had no idea how to make. I reached out to three or four professional woodworker friends of mine, asking how to make the joint and got three or four different answers (including “I don’t know”). As I talked to each person, I heard what they said but also had some disagreement with each – some idea of how I might do it differently.
Finally, one day, sitting in my shop agonizing over what everyone had told me, I had an epiphany. There is not one correct way. There are many ways to attack this problem, or – I could make up my own way. I had been slowing developing a novel idea in my own head. So, I made a few test pieces and found that it would work.
This was a life changing experience with implications far beyond my woodworking career. I realized that I can do something in a way no one else (or at least no one I knew) had done before, and it’s okay to trust my own intuition. [The chest, by the way, came out beautifully.]
It also ended my confusion about the conflicting advice I’d gotten about horses. When I eventually bought my first horse, part of my excitement was that I could – finally – do things my way. I had learned lots of things from lots of people and I could adopt the bits that resonated with me and discard the rest.
So, the next time someone tells you something about horses that is delivered as if it is the God-given truth, listen, think about it, and see how it resonates with your own experience. Then file it away in the “try this right away” bin, the “look into this more” bin, or the trash bin.
Happy trails!
Monica
