Enter: The Cowboy

Most people that train problem horses do only that: train problem horses. What I wanted was someone who trained riders who rode problem horses. I didn't want to send Spicy away to be 'fixed'. I had an inkling that I was a large part of his underlying issues, and while he'd be 'fixed', as soon as he came back I'd revert him to our old habits. I'm fortunate though, because there is a man in our area who trains people, not horses. His philosophy is he helps way more horses by training their people than just training horses.

Before our first lesson I was tacking Spicy up in the cross ties. I was dreading getting on him for some kind of evaluation, as our last five rides had resulted in manic cantering in a tiny circle while hyperventilating. It was not fun or enjoyable. The Cowboy arrived and watched me tack up while he had a cigarette. Spicy did his normal pre-tack routine: dancing in the cross ties, gnashing teeth at the girth, fidgiting. I hesitated before I put the bridle on.

"I wouldn't want to ride that," The Cowboy drawled.

"Funny you say that, because I don't, really." My relief must've been palpable.

So instead of swinging a leg over, we started on the ground.

When I work with a horse, I go get them from the field, groom and tack up, take them to the ring, mount and then begin work.

In reality, the work should begin the second I clip the halter on.

I know these things, academically. But having The Cowboy there kept me accountable. It was very similar to the work I had been coaching myself through from the Richard Maxwell books, but with 100% adherence instead of only 'when I remembered'. He brought things to my attention that I could only get from eyes on the ground: tension in my shoulders and poor discipline in my hands.

It was helpful to watch The Cowboy handle Spicy in particular. I saw how his reactions (or, non-reactions) to Spicy's anxiety really took the wind out of him. I had been on the fence about what to do next about Spicy's behavior. He was treated for ulcers, had regular body work and a saddle that fit. The low hanging fruit had been hit. We were at a juncture where I either needed to pursue more serious diagnostics or accept that maybe the dissonance was a communication issue. In one session I realized I had made the right decision.

Although, perhaps more than having a communication issue, I was having a self control issue.

I don't live in a vacuum. I go to the barn after I've been at work all day. I have a million things running through my head. Rush hour traffic, impending meetings, chores, homework, family.

"You need to leave all that outside the barn," The Cowboy cautioned. "He's sensitive, he can feel it."

I think about all the times I come to the barn frustrated or upset and I want the horse to 'fix' it. If I'm sad, I want him to make me feel happy. If I'm scared, I want him to make me feel safe. If I'm angry, I want him to be patient and not take it personally.

How unfair I've been.

My lessons with The Cowboy and Spicy have turned into hour long meditation sessions. As time wore on, I wanted to get more from my lessons so I started meditating and practicing mindfulness before my lesson. Now every day, on my drive to the barn, I have 30-45 minutes of uninterrupted meditation. The more I practice, the more I can find That Place, the calm strong energy where I can ride my horse.

You can see it in the best riders in the world. I think particularly of Michael Jung, who looks almost vacant on the horse. Even when he gets in a sticky combination in a giant five star his face never betrays any concern. I imagine it's why his horses are so relaxed.

As much as I'm doing this for Spicy, I've been the main benefactor in all this. All this practice in mindfulness means it's that much easier for me to reach any time I need it. I've been struggling with PTSD while driving since our accident, but finding this mindfulness has all but erased my driving anxiety. I'm more organized and productive at work, and less reactive in stressful situations.

Spicy is flourishing under this 'new me'. He has become extremely reliable. As his anxiety ebbs, a cheeky and playful personality has emerged. I have a bunch of tools now to redirect his spookiness and control his thought by controlling mine. I no longer use him as an emotional dumping ground for my stress. By the time I get to the barn, I'm already calm and happy and I use that time to be outside and enjoy him and myself.