Goodbye old habits, hello New Year.

So this time last year I was still on a high after finding out I had a place at Buck's first UK clinic.  2015 yielded a myriad of experiences, both good and bad, in both my horsemanship and private life.  The funny thing about life is that even though we like to compartmentalise feelings, thoughts and experiences in our head, real life weaves them all in a rich and sometimes dark tapestry.  It's not until we stand back and reflect on the sum of years worth that we can completely appreciate our experiences.  How they shaped us and changed us.  How they solidified parts of our being and how they made us question ourselves to the core.  Sometimes this happens on a small scale, but it is no less important or significant.  Sometimes it happens on a scale so large, it blind sides you until you come out  the other side still smokin'!  That was my 2015, and the biggest thing I learned (and that Buck helped teach me) is my horsemanship and who I am is not separate.  I may divide up things in my head in order to organise my life and 'chunks' of what my feeble brain can cope with, but who I am is who my horse sees.  It doesn't matter what discipline you ride, what colour you are, what you had for breakfast... your horse knows who you are.  Now let me clarify something here, I don't mean what skills you have with your tools, timing etc (we're all works in progress) I also don't mean your horse thinks, 'oh well she had a bad day, I'll cut her some slack'.  No.  What I am referring to is your horse knows your intention, he knows down to the core of you who you are.  The species has had to be a very good judge in order to survive.  Sometimes seeing yourself through your horses eyes is a bitter pill to swallow.  Sometimes, your horse reflects back a potential version of you that you did not realise was there.... that is what both my horses have done to me this year, and I was oblivious.

First the mighty Tuff.  Through the fog of grief and despair he was nothing short of a true partner at the clinic.  I have wax lyrical about him in many a previous blog.  I assumed it was because of his good nature and being a pretty well broke horse that he stuck through it all with me, but on reflection I'm not convinced that is the case.  He can be very insecure and he needs you at times to step up when he becomes unsure... there was none of this at Aintree.  He was the very best version of himself and was willing me to meet him there.  Sounds batty I know, but he did.  I had fallen apart and he had stayed true, for me, he expected more from me.  Because, and I don't say this lightly, if he had fallen apart I would have crumbled and possibly never recovered.  My horse knows me, he knows the heart and soul of me I he knew I needed him to fill in for me and push me through it.   It's taken until now for me to realise that, and had it been in isolation I would have pessimistically brushed it off.... until Maite decided to make her feelings known.

Maite is a very confident mare and I have struggled internally as to whether I am good enough to own her.  Would she be better with someone more skilled, patient, more time etc.  This has been quite a battle for me.  This constant battle and feeling of not being good enough has marred my progress with her, and my building a relationship with her.  So, before I had my operation I was working her on the ground and bumping her up to the mounting block (as this needs some work).  She wasn't saddled as I had no intention of riding her that day, but I went through the motions of leaning over her, running my arm on her off side etc.  Now, even on a mounting block I am neither tall nor agile enough to bounce on to her back, but I was making enough commotion as if I was planning to mount to the point when Maite just turned her head and looked at me.   What she did next I decided no one would believe me if I told them... she then proceeded to slide her left fore forward, dropped her shoulder and looked at me again.  It was an invitation to get on with the expression of 'here you go, you getting on or what?'   That day changed our relationship.   We worked together right up until my operation, and then 14 weeks after my surgery I had a little ride, and I picked her up right where I left her at the end of the Summer.

Both my horses set the bar at where they see me, and expect me to be.  I have to meet them there.  It's not about me trusting them, it is all about me trusting myself, and this is a theme that runs through the entire fabric of my life.  Who I am is most definitely who I brought to the barn and my horses are helping me work through that and fulfil in my riding where I need to be.  As an instructor said to me once, 'Kate you have all the theory and knowledge up there, you just need to filter it down into your arms and legs'.  

My hurdles with my horsemanship have never been about my horses, they've been about me trusting myself all along.  What Tuff did was not let me project my emotions onto him.  That grief fuelled self destruct feeling that threatened to end my participation in the clinic.  What Buck did was point it out to me.  When I approached him and said I can't do this, my horse feels disconnected, Buck had a look at him and said, 'Well he looks alright to me'.   He was, he was fine, it was me...but I'm pretty sure Tuff and Buck knew that and they expected more.

So, my lovelies, my only resolution for 2016 is to BELIEVE.  Believe that despite all the bad, there is ultimately the good and our horses guide the way.  

I wish you all a happy and healthy 2016 and I hope to see you on the Road to Buck.

See you on the flip side xx

Character and chaos (or rather Tramadol, frustration and self assessment)

So, I was half way through writing my next blog whilst sat in the doctor's waiting room at the end of August, prior to some rather invasive (but necessary) surgery when I got distracted by the GP calling my name.  Then the snowball of organising my family, horses (and mental state) for the impending op, and subsequent weeks of inability took over.  No bother, I foolishly thought, I shall whimsically write my blogs and remaining clinic notes in hospital and while I recover.  Wrong!  You think as an ex-nurse I'd have a clue that I would feel like I'd been battered by Thor's hammer (no pun intended!)  apparently not.  I felt so awful I did not even want wine.  This is unheard of, even after hours in labour, giving birth (and a c-section) I could still find the strength to uncork and pour... (and shove over whoever got in the way of the fridge).

But all is well, and I'm glad to be on the flip side of things.  Recovery will still take a wee while but I feel I've now turned a corner.

Despite not having the energy to type or do anything other than imitate a hibernating bear, the thoughts have been stewing in my pain addled brain, ready to burst upon the page in horsemanship splendour. 

So enjoy, and I hope my rambling make some sort of sense.

The topic I mentally keep revisiting is one that Buck discusses in his book Believe (if you haven't read it, go do that now...).

The Qualities for Success.  Buck goes on to list 8 qualities which horses have and humans should emulate.

1. Intuition
2. Sensitivity
3. Change
4. Presence
5. A non aggressive attitude
6. Determination
7. Humility
8. Love

I'd like to think I am good with 1, 2, 6 and 8.  Always a work in progress, but these four traits come fairly easily to me.  Numbers 3, 4, 5 and 7 however, somewhat less so.

Now reading that list it would be easy to assume that if I have difficulty with change, presence, a non aggressive attitude and humility that I a) wouldn't be a bundle of fun to be around and b) am some sort of degenerate thug.  I'm happy to report I have been know to be fun and people even enjoy my company (go figure) and I'm about as aggressive as a sock.

What I am and indeed what the horses have helped me be, is self aware.  So, let me run through that list again quickly...

1. Intuition - now my mum used to nickname me the witch, for no other reason other than I am very perceptive without actually having to think about it.  I have also learned (the hard way) that when I don't listen to that 'little voice in my head', it is to my detriment.  Horses have helped me develop this skill and I know if I am on the right track.

2. Sensitivity - I am very sensitive to the emotions of people around me.  I can walk in to a room and pick up on the vibe of the people in there.   To feel the subtle change is key in this kind of horsemanship.

3. Change -  Well lets be honest, who is good at change? We are creatures of habit who like to grind our own little rut into the dirt.  Then life happens and we are forced to change and grow.  Change isn't always a bad thing and I am much better adapting to it and being open.  I'm I all signing and dancing in embracing it, er not quite...  But I have changed, I am adapting and honing the skills I need to enhance who I need to be, to be a better horsewoman.

4. Presence - in today's thoroughly sterile modern world of technology, it is increasingly difficult to be in the moment, to stay present in what is happening around us and what we are experiencing.  Heck, most people are too busy taking selfies of what they are taking part in rather than immersing themselves in the actually 'doing'.   Horses are only ever in the present... Maite reminds me of that everyday!!

5. A non aggressive attitude - Now this can be interpreted several ways but for me personally it is all to do with defensiveness.  This can be misconstrued as being aggressive.  Flight or fight.  This ties in with presence.  You bring your attitude and your baggage to the table then you will not be in the present working with your horse, and you will receive some very accurate equine feedback.

6. Determination - According to my husband I have too much of this.  I am very much the type of person if you tell me I can't do something, that's red rag to a bull and becomes incentive to prove you wrong.  However, with maturity comes some common sense and I now stop to think if I SHOULD ;)   Now, with horses you need something about you, you need the guts, you need TRY (but remember to end on a good note, don't lose sight of the slightest try).

7. Humility - This is a tricky one as if you have a problem with humility, people would assume that you are immodest, but I struggle the other way.  I have to remember my self worth.   Be humble and remember the enormous amount of trust a horse has to let you work with him, and ride him. Respect him.

8. Love - Where would we be without it?  I love hard and fall fast.  Horses are my all consuming passion.  Horses are my best friends, I love them deeply.  I also respect my fellow human, we're all in this for the love of horses I hope.

The above is my interpretation of these 8 qualities.  I hope you can see horses and life, it really is all the same.

Next time, where I am in my journey with Maite (with all of the above) and some day three clinic notes!

See you on the flip side x
(Won't be as long until the next one I promise)

Presence and Parables

“You cannot teach a man anything, you can only help him 

find it within himself.”

― Galileo 


In a previously life a was a nursing student, and at some point I saw this quote and jotted it down on a mini post-it note and stuck it on my laptop.  Years have passed but this sticky little piece of paper has endured. Through several house moves and life changes, I could never bring myself to throw it out.  For the last few years it's been stuck on a bookshelf in my kitchen (now supported by sticky tape as it no longer has the ability to adhere on it's own) in an attempt that maybe my children would read it and learn from it.  Or so I thought.  I've now come to realise that that's not why I've kept it.  I kept it as I had no clue what it actually meant.  Of course I understood the literal meaning, and I'm sure I thought I knew what the deeper meaning to this message was all about.  Wrong.  I now realise I did not have a blind clue.

I had an interesting conversation with someone recently, who although enjoyed one of the clinics, found herself frustrated by the storytelling that Buck does.  She said she found herself thinking, "Oh why doesn't he just get on with it".   Hmm, that got me thinking and my response would be this.   Buck's stories are tales of his experiences over the years.  They not only serve as fascinating stories in their own right, but if you really listen to him, they are parables to illustrate a point or particular detail of your horsemanship.  If you do not listen, you miss the subtle nuances of his teachings.

Since this exchange I've gone on to think how many of us are in the room, or arena, or indeed in a conversation, but not actually present?  How many of us think we are listening to someone or our horse, but we are actually humouring the pause in our own diatribe, desperate to start our own talking or doing again?  How many of us are presented with a wealth of information or an experience and consciously or unconsciously ignore it?

I'm not talking about enthusiasm here, we all can get a bit carried away when it comes to talking about or doing something we love.  I'm talking of a complete lack of respect of who we are with (human and equine) and also a lack of respect for ourselves.  Why do we not value our own potential for development to actually absorb as much as we can, especially in a teaching situation.  We are there by our own choosing, because we want to learn, we want to be better.  Or do we?  Or do we just want to be there, and expect our horse to try, when in reality we are not actually present, therefore not trying OUR best but expect the best from our horse?

This kind of horsemanship is really about pushing the envelope in our own ability.  No one can do it for you.  If you truly want to progress and for your horse to progress, you have to be present, you have to take in as much as you are personally able to, you have to go beyond being a mechanic, you have to WANT this.

To be present, to be open, to be able to give it a go, to listen, to walk away thinking yes I got as much as was able to take from today. To TRY.

To have respect for the clinician, the other participants, your horse and YOURSELF.

Yes this is a journey, and don't misunderstand me, I'm not saying you have to be an expert and think you have it all mastered before you begin.  What I am saying is if you want to chase and hone the qualities it takes to be good with horses, feel, timing, precision, then you need to start by being present.  Feel your horse, listen to him, experience the ride.  Otherwise you will be so busy getting on with it, you'll miss both the journey and the destination.

So back to my post-it note.  I'm finally beginning to understand what these words mean.  I'm finally finding within myself what Buck is trying to teach us, and it really does have to come from us.

All of us learn differently.  The 3 main learning styles are visual, audible and kinesthetic, and I appreciate that parables may not be everyone's cup of tea, however, if you dial in mentally at Buck's clinics, what unfolds across 3 days is a rich tapestry of life, skill and experience.  Not just his or yours, but everyone's who is there, both human and equine.  It's a bounty of learning.

It is exactly the same with the horses.  Buck sets it up for them to find the answer themselves, he doesn't force them or do it for them.  He also does the same with us, and his tales are just another key to help us unlock that door.. all we have to do is listen.

See you on the flip side xx

Adventures of a Flat Footed, Buddhist, Drag Queen

I think it was on day 2 that I asked Buck a question about my horse being obedient but I felt he was mentally elsewhere.   He was responsive and respectful to my aids, but he didn't quite feel 'in the room' with me.

Buck told me as nicely as he possibly could that I needed to be more interesting for my horse.  Essentially, Tuff has to tune me out to tune something else in (this also applies to horses that like to make war/crabby expression with other horses).

Hmmm, now I knew this in a roundabout way before I asked the question.  I am very aware that I need to keep Tuff's attention, as with too much head space he makes up his own fun, but I never really considered that I needed to be more interesting, and more to the point what would classify as interesting to my horse?

Forever in the aim to become more horseman than horse mechanic I came home and really have sat and thought about this.  Am I ever interesting when in the saddle?  Or do I play out the same exercises in an attempt to make us both feel like winners?  In one regard, refining feel and softness, but sometimes paying the penalty of being considered regimented and dull to my horse?  What was lacking here (apart from wine dissolved brain cells)?

There is no doubt the exercises Buck showed us at Aintree have definitely helped spice up things in the menage, giving us both another level of communication, but I could not help feel I was fundamentally missing something.

Then it clicked.. whilst having a conversation about a cardigan, that in my husband's opinion made me look like a monk...  Tuff needed a purpose and I needed to try something different.  My cardigan had a purpose, and it fulfilled it well.  However it was not my usual look, but it felt good.  This is what I needed to apply to my horsemanship.  I'll get to the drag queen bit later...

So I made a commitment to take my riding out of the arena, and find purpose out on the trail.  Fairly simplistic in idea, but interesting in execution.   There are potentially a lot of distractions out hacking.  Be it other horses, riders, cars, sheep, cows, killer cyclists and ramblers or even the distraction as a rider to completely switch off and hand over the reins to your horse.   Never a good idea, but as a tired and harassed mum, is sometimes tempting.  So for a full two weeks I set off with Buck's voice in my ear and to begin with a simple ask of my horse... feel my focus and follow my feel in direction and speed.

So this exercise basically required Tuff to be on a loose rein and go in the direction I wanted him to go at the speed I wanted him to go.   My job was to not micromanage and only pick up the reins once he made a mistake (or if we were in mortal danger)  oh and to have lazer like focus.  Now focus is one of those things I am supremely good at when needed to be (i.e in mortal danger or if there is only one piece of cake left) but I can sometime be a very lazy rider, and once I start nattering, switch of completely and be a incompetant leader.  Tuff has the attention span of a gnat and is the nosiest horse I've ever met, so I was expecting a fair amount of correction both of myself and with him in the beginning, but what I found out about myself and my horse is when I upped the ante, so did he.

Treat them how you want them to be, not where they are.  There it is again.  This Buck fella knows his stuff :)

So Tuff and I continued our adventures, and I found myself introducing more and more of the exercises covered at Aintree, out on the trail.  But more importantly I was using them for a purpose, not just randomly implementing them.   They started to make sense to Tuff on another level.   Soft feel and getting to those feet proved useful when riding out with dear Clara, an older slower lovely mare.  Moving the front over particularly useful for avoiding gigantic rabbit holes, back up and moving the front and hind with precision for the many gates we encounter, following my focus is indispensable for many a situation, particularly when going through narrow gaps with your feet up on your horses neck!   Of course it was not all rosy, there were times Tuff was worried but I found he trusted my judgement, and that his feet were becoming mine and I can start to take them anywhere I need them to go... also short serpentines are invaluable when coming across killer soya bean pickers!

But the highlight for me, someone who has struggled to trust my riding and judgement for so long, was the long fast controlled trots on a loose rein, over open countryside, with my horse feeling totally one with me and moving in complete synchronicity underneath me.   Together in gait, speed, aim and focus.  Complete joy.  Buck is still teaching me long after the clinic has ended, as is Tuff.

So why the flat footed drag queen?  Well in the spirit of change and with a family holiday looming, I dug out my sandals and painted my blue-white toes a shocking shade of coral in an attempt to look 'normal' for a week.   Apparently I look better in my riding clothes... and like a drag queen in anything else...pass the wine!

See you on the flip side x

Buck-et List

When written in Chinese, the word 'crisis' is composed of two characters. One represents danger and the other represents opportunity.

John F. Kennedy

After another lovely evening at my hospitable friend Layla's house, I lay in bed that night processing the events of day 2.  Tuff and I's long serpentines without reins that day were great.  Flowing, fluid and on point (most of the time).  We then moved on to getting down to the feet with a soft feel and seeing how slow we could get the walk steps, could we hang a foot in the air? With softness? Almost and yes!  When I got to Tuff's feet we had some beautiful, slow, controlled movement.   We also revisited stopping with a soft feel, again I felt we were making good progress with this.  Just as I was floating around the arena with a big smile on my face, Buck encouraged those of us that were doing well with this to start to think about picking a hind foot to stop on.  Hmmm... easier said than done.  Well the choosing the foot was easy...stopping on it with softness less so.  So as I lay in bed that night, my brain was playing...

Right Hind, Right Front, Left Hind, Left Front... over and over, while visualising and remembering how my horse felt both in the walk and when asking for the stop.  Feel down to the feet.  Being particular is intense work for the brain!  So after a mini mental workout I gave in to sleep, ready for day 3.

Day 3 -I think you can see the change in me in the picture above.  Tuff and I came through those arena gates loud, proud, ready to learn and completely focused.  I seized the opportunity from Buck through the fog of my own crisis, and my boy gave me his all in return.

We revisited the exercises from the following two days.  During which it was interesting to witness the progression with each horse and within each partnership.  For me, what was evident was the change between Tuff and I.  Not a change in which we were different to each other, more of an organic growth, where my horse was almost relieved when I expected more from him, as the clarity in the task and inevitably in the release, gave him great comfort.   He felt like a winner, I felt like a semi-competent horseman and above all we felt like a team.  He got softer, and lighter.  I became more particular with my body, more considered in the feel that I was offering him.  I began to really train myself to guide with my legs and use my whole body to operate my horse.  My hands were less tools of necessity and more for refinement.

The exercise I'd like to talk about that is really a linchpin for all of this is the short serpentine.

This exercise predominantly is looking for the horse to use all four corners of itself while reaching even.  This is achieved by asking the horse to walk forward while being laterally bended at 90 degrees, with ears level, poll higher than the withers.  Imagine if you will, out on a trail, riding around a small bush.. (or sage brush if in USA).

So when taking the horse either right or left, you still need to consider where those feet are, and get in time with the front leg you are taking in that direction, so that it is not a random swinging of the horse around.  To do that would be the equivalent of tripping the horse up.  Knocking them off balance in that way would soon equal a horse that doesn't want to move.   You allow a straight step or two before taking the horse in the other direction.  This allows you to get timed up with the other front leg before asking for the movement.   Do not make the mistake of taking a lot of steps in between the change of direction and allowing your horse to travel 10 ft.  All you will achieve is taking the brace out, then putting it back in with too many steps, taking it out again, putting it back in again.... you see where I'm going with this.   It will equal a long time before you achieve what you've set out to, which is a horse without brace, moving all four corners even.  Now Buck talks about 'legs only' with the long serpentine, but the short serpentine should never be legs only.  Buck also recommends the short serpentine if you ever find yourself on a horse that feels like it's going to blow.  Get on that short serpentine until you feel a change.  Buck told us a lovely story about his daughter being sceptical about the need to teach the short serpentine when she was younger.  She now teaches the colt start classes at MSU and has all of her participants do this exercise!

Tuff felt initially stiffer with the short serpentine during the third day, but we soon worked out the brace and heaviness and took it to a good place.  The picture below shows us in full swing.

Again it comes back to timing, feel and feet.  Think all the way down to the ground when you ride your horse.

I am still digesting all of the information Buck shared with us in those three days.  They passed far too quickly and after the changes made in three days, I cannot imagine what we would all look like after a week under his tutelage.

I will be forever grateful to Tina Griffen, Buck and Mary Brannaman, and all the support team for making Aintree the wonderful event it was.   Also the support of my husband Matt who took care of our little family while I was galavanting.

Buck gave me something back that I was missing.  His gentleness of spirit and kindness is a gift.  Thank you Buck.

 Finally I have to thank the one and only Mr T.  Tuff gave me his huge heart and soul during those 3 days.  He is a wonderful partner, teacher and completely my soul mate, I will treasure the memories we made at Aintree forever.

So what's next in my horsemanship?  Well in the words of Coldplay, "I'd rather be a comma than a full stop".  I will continue my journey of improvement, not only for myself but for both my horses.  I will continue my blog (with more exercises from the clinic), teaching, riding and shooting for the moon.   This level of horsemanship, refinement, and connection is definitely worth chasing.

I will leave you with a song....  

https://youtu.be/VPRjCeoBqrI?list=PLzyYbaYKbahnEmFJFyxlURFHhSc74l5C7

Mr T and I will see you on the flip side xxxxx

Amy, Amy, Amy..

When you write a song, you have to remember how you felt, you have to remember what the weather was like, how his neck smelt.... - Amy Winehouse

Now I was a sucker for Winehouse's talent.  Whatever her personal struggles were, she was a talented songwriter, and a voice from another time.  Although it is a simplistic description above, this quote can not only be applied to any encounter in life, but in a clinic environment it serves to remind us that learning it multi-faceted experience.

You have to remember the participation, the detail from your involvement.  What it evoked in you, not just how it made you feel at the time, but how it made you feel afterwards.  Did it galavanise something within you?  Or strip back what you thought you knew and set you on a different path?

When recollecting my time at Aintree I take a leaf from Amy's book; although I have no sense of smell so that one is lost on me!  I try to remember how my horse felt, how my emotions affected him and the situation,  what the environment was like, and what the clinician and other participants brought to the mix.   Now that's a whole load of information right there, and that's before any breakdown of what was actually being taught at the time...  It's a heady mix of information, feel, emotion, skill; topped off with a lashing of vulnerability as to maximise your learning you have to be open to what is being presented in front of you.

Doesn't that all sound exciting?  Well it was.  It was exhilarating, enthralling and somewhat exhausting!

Day 2 was an eye opener.  After a good meal and decent nights sleep at my friend Layla's house, we drove back to Aintree the following morning.  Throughout the journey, my brain was on a bitter diatribe loop.... I'd survived day 1, I could just go home now couldn't I?  Now, I know that's not actually what I wanted to do, but my old best friend 'doubt' had woken up bright and cheery.   This was further exacerbated by how Tuff was; slightly tucked up, and perceived by me to be stressed from being in all night.  I know this horse inside out, and as soon as he had his halter on he let down somewhat, but the wheel of perpetual self doubt was in full swing.  My emotional state fuelled his and he went down to the arena like Seabiscuit.  He was not actually doing anything dramatic, he was obedient and to anyone else he probably looked fine.  But I could feel every bit of insecurity course through him, straight back into me like a circuit.   By the time we were in the arena and warming up, it all felt too much for me.  I quietly got on with what we were doing and as we worked around the arena, I came across fellow participant Ann who took one look at me and said, "Are you ok?"  

There's that timing again.

I confessed to Ann that it was all feeling a bit too much this morning.  Ann reassured me we all felt the same, including that we've survived day 1, let's go home! feeling.   Wow, did that make me feel better....  Ann then encouraged me to go and tell Buck how I felt.  "WHAT??"  My brain was screaming "Go speak to Buck when I look like I'm emotionally unhinged!!!???!!!!  Are you SERIOUS??"  

Luckily poor Ann did not hear my mental outburst, I simply replied I couldn't possibly, I didn't want to embarrass myself, or look foolish in front of someone I respected.  Ann appreciated that my week had been unusual with what happened to Dad, and hugged me.  As she did, I started to cry.  

At that moment Buck walked into the arena, and I tried to pull myself together.  Ann turned to me and said,

"Go and speak to him, I'll come with you.  If Buck knew you were struggling, and you didn't ask him for help, he would be disappointed as that's what he's here for"  (I may be paraphrasing here, but I think I covered the main bits Ann?)

So Ann and I approached Buck just as he was sorting out his microphone, (which he turned off as we spoke).  He asked me if I was ok and I said, "I'm not a crier, but..... " (then I cried a little, slightly mortifying)
I told Buck I felt that I was unravelling emotionally, that my horse didn't feel connected, and I was unsure what I needed to do/or that if I could do this.

Buck was as calm and serene as usual and said, "Ok, let's see what you've got going on", to which Tuff and ran through our groundwork.  Buck then said, "Well, he looks alright to me.  Go and take your time, get him moving out some more and when you're ready, get on".  I thanked him, he gave me a smile and said, "You're welcome".

As I walked away, the floodgates opened a bit, and there was a passing of tissues between old and new friends.  I set about continuing my groundwork while everyone had mounted up and was listening to Buck, and it was not too long before I joined them.  The relief and release I felt was immense.  In a short interaction, Buck had simultaneously taken the immense pressure I'd put on myself from me, and redirected me in a positive way.  He hadn't given me sympathy or help me wallow and stay in a place of turmoil, he hadn't belittled me or been frustrated at me for being upset;  he simply redirected me to where I needed to be mentally, where I could find comfort and relief.  

Treat them how you want them to be, not how they are.  Doesn't just apply to horses.   

(It works very well with husbands too.)

It wasn't about my horse, it was an amplified version of what was going on within me.  But I think Buck knew that.

The second day saw two distinct things happen for me:

• Firstly, I hands down had the best ride on my horse ever.  He was absolutely amazing, and gave me his all.  He was a DUDE!
• Secondly, the wheel of doubt has been put out of commission.  Permanently.  There has been a seismic shift within me, my confidence is growing and I know I can do this.  It's reinforced the horseman I am, and the horseman I'm yet to become.  
• Thirdly, (ok, I know I said two things but this is pretty important).  The people I met at the clinic were all awesome.  But to those who gave me support, or I experienced a shared kinship with,  I am so glad our paths crossed and I hope we will meet again. You are all like minded souls and special people.  Ann, thank you for your help that day.    

As for Buck, I'm sure he didn't give a second thought about our chat that day, as that is the level of respect and consistency he gives everyone and every horse.  But I am still very grateful.

The picture at the beginning of the blog is of our conversation that morning.

The Road to Buck will never be over for me, but it's one I am enjoying travelling on, and since the clinic has lead me to this... :)

See you on the flip side x

What is your truth?

 "The truth is the most dramatic story you can tell."  

                                                                              Robert Redford


This quote really resonated with me when I read it.   We are all unique, with stories to tell, and to each our reality is our own.  We can both experience the same event, and have a completely different recollection of it, and feelings assigned to that reality.

Before I delve into the first day of Buck's clinic, I want to share with you a glimmer into my truth.  Why for me this was about more than horsemanship.   Apart from the loss of my father, this clinic was always going to be a turning point in my horsemanship career for me.  Eight years ago I had to walk away from life as I knew it.  My horse, my job, house, everything.  I was a well educated nurse, wife and mother who after several years of having her confidence and self esteem eroded, walked away from a toxic marriage.  No one knew that abuse had taken place, no one knew that I was repeatedly punished for having horses in my life, no one knew I had to make a choice, as I wasn't sure if I could survive it any longer.

I didn't know if I'd ever have horses in my life again.  It's who I am, so I felt bereft.

But when I did, what shocked me the most was this constant, the absolute comfort and certainty of my confidence and skill with them, was shaken.   I openly embraced having horses again (and I have a wonderful husband and another child, life moves on and as Buck says, you can't live in two places at once) but this was the area of my life that was stuck, this was the area that has taken 7 years to repair.  For the most part the horses have helped by being my friend, helping me see I can trust my own judgement, and by not judging me.  They are my therapists and confidants and I will be forever grateful.  But the Road to Buck has been a longer one for me, than even I imagined.

So you can see this, for me, was far more than if I could take my horse to a Buck clinic, this was more about me having the faith in myself that I could go and feel I belonged there as a horsewoman and be the partner I needed to be for Tuff.  I'm pleased to say I felt I did that.

The first morning understandably everyone was nervous.  I felt very focused (although a bit sick) and set about warming up in front of the crowd.  Music played, an party vibe buzz filled the morning air, it was a good atmosphere.  It was even better when I had a few familiar, and not so familiar faces, come up to me and say they were rooting for us, and they'd been reading this blog (gulp)!

Normally everyone would be mounted by the time Buck joined a H1 clinic, but due to the nerves, Buck allowed us some more online time before mounting.. well, I was first up in the saddle...

Here I am, first day, riding alongside Buck (whoop!) Photo courtesy of my friends Joy & Heather x

I have to say at this point, as soon as Buck entered the area, there was a collective figurative sigh from the participants.  I have never met someone with such a calming, solid energy as Buck.  He was a joy to be around.  We felt it, and so did the horses.  So that's what I believed helped my cowgirl spirit and we went on to have an absolutely fantastic first day.  Exercises will be covered in detail in future blog, I promise!

Buck made us all feel at home, told us we were among friends and not to be shy.  We set about various tasks, including long serpentines.  Now these, Mr T and I usually have down pat, but I think my hands and legs were possibly on a delay system from messages coming from the old noodle up top, so when it came to asking questions, I found myself asking one I thought I wouldn't need to.   Now the emphasis here isn't actually about what I asked Buck (or the fact I was the first person to ask him a question!  I felt so comfortable it was easy),  it is the manner in which he responded.   I asked Buck about what should I do as I felt completely out of time when helping Tuff with the hand on the reach across when performing the long serpentine.....

Buck rode right up to me, read my name badge, backed up (this was all fluid and seamless on a horse he'd been on less than a couple of hours) and said, "well Kate....there will be times when you have your timing in sync, and then times when you feel like you've dropped the anchor...."  (I'll cover that in more detail soon).  What I found so, humble, so HUMAN, is that he took the time and the effort to read my name badge and address me by my name.  Well what's so special about that I bet you're wondering?  It is that the simple act of respect, that acknowledgement of me (and indeed everyone Buck spoke to) as a person that spoke volumes about him.   I knew before we began I would be in the presence of an exceptional horseman, I knew right then that I was also in the presence of an exceptional human being.

So, in that nanosecond I remembered we all have a cross to bear, and our own baggage, be it hand luggage or cargo sized, but that I would be absolutely fine, I could be authentic, real, and that wouldn't be perceived as a weakness in this man's eyes.   It would simply be my truth.

As we all know, horses are nothing but authentic, and now, I appreciate what the comfort of being truly accepted feels like for them.

See you on the flip side x