One of my closest companions is a 1200 lb warmblood gelding who goes by the name of Corvallis.  We train in Dressage together, a very precise and prescribed method of riding.  He and I don’t speak the same language, but we do have an understanding… most of the time.  Our connection truly mirrors most relationships.  In training, this looks fairly straight forward: when I’m clear with my requests, when I’m tuned-into his needs and I’m holding up my end of the bargain, Corvallis will give me his focus, his athleticism and his respect.  This is a relationship based on trust and communication.

Sounds simple enough, right?  Here are a few factors that make this a challenge: Horses run on pure instinct, 100% of the time.  They are herd animals, and wired with an acute fight or flight instinct (mostly flight). They live in the moment and they are all about sensing the energy around them.

Another factor is that I’m human, and inevitably there are days when I’m preoccupied or feeling stressed.  If I greet Corvallis in this state of mind, he picks up on it immediately.  Sensing my distance, he is no doubt thinking  “Hey, if she’s out to lunch, where does that leave me?”  During our ride the disconnect can manifest as bratty behavior, unwillingness to focus or having one foot out the door.  On a dime, it can turn into frustration, discord and a safety issue.  It’s a lesson I have learned time and again over the years.

Optimally, when Corvallis and I are working on something new or a bit more challenging, my goal is clarity and connection.  Instead of jumping to frustration if we’re not quite getting it, I pause to ask him a few questions, and I ask them nicely:  What do you need from me in this moment?  What don’t you understand?  How are you feeling today?  No need for an answer – if I tune in, I’ll know.  I demand a lot of Corvallis on training days: I separate him from his pasture-mates and the green grass (albeit only for a couple of hours).  I clean him up to look presentable, put a saddle on him, a metal bit in his mouth; I climb onto his back and then ask him to dance. The least I can do is show-up fully.

Being in the moment with Corvallis is a true lesson in Mindfulness.  The most productive learning happens when the only expectations I have is that we’ll engage and be present for one another. What this looks and feels like in the sport of Dressage is difficult to describe. Movements are fluid, elegant and harmonious.  Communication is so subtle between horse and rider, that it appears to be effortless and that the two are of one mind. It’s no different from being with a loved-one or close friend because there’s often no need to explain each other’s thinking…  you just know.

Corvallis is an amazing teacher – not only of Dressage, but also of relationship.  Without the clutter of a human mind, he tells it like it is.  As a matter of fact, he is so good at his job, that if I’m careless or unclear about my needs, he will simply ignore me!  With his large, class-clown personality, our relationship is by no means all work. His loud whinny is a given whenever I walk into the barn. He’s also been known to throw his feed pan out the barn window on occasion – behavior only a mother could love!

Isn’t this ultimately what we all want from our relationships?  to be heard, to be playful, to be respected and to be asked nicely.