Horsemanship - for MY love of play

​In this era of buzz words, viral trends and fleeting fads, is horsemanship just another?
 
Since I began my horse obsession 35 years ago, there is no doubt I hear the word horsemanship more often today.  So, what really is horsemanship and what’s the point?  Well, this is my story.
I personally love the concept of horsemanship being the ‘art’ of working with horses.  Of course there is science behind the evolution, physiology and psychology of the horse and there are many top-quality horsemanship programs and academies available to learn the ‘way of the horse’, but I don’t think horsemanship can be simply formulaic? 
 

Too many times the answer is ‘it depends’ and feel is not something that can simply be acquired on a course or from a book.  Sure, you can learn ‘it’ but mastery takes something less tangible.  Equally, I do not believe horsemanship is magic – though it sometimes appears so.  It takes special attention to detail, creativity and commitment and whilst anyone can achieve anything they set their mind to do, I feel innate nature plays a big role, which I will come back to in a later blog about women in horsemanship.
 
​Why we practice horsemanship and what it achieves for us is really our choice, perhaps a deeper connection, more sophisticated communication, improved gymnastic performance, elaborate tricks, or simply and beautifully a calm, resilient and engaged horse, the opportunities are quite endless.
 

One thing I am certain of, horsemanship is not a new phenomenon.  It would be arrogant to think that horsemanship didn’t have a part in the very domestication of horses 6,000 years ago.  This is not to mention the many civilizations since, who claim to be the godfather of horsemanship.  Whoever was the first, today it is great to see so many more people consciously challenging how they work with horses and trying to improve.  As we say at home, “do your best until you know better, then do better”.
 
Whatever method we follow and whatever our end goals, as I get older, ‘play’ has an increasingly important role for me. ​

​I began riding at the age of 5 and it was all play.  Hobby horses, real horses, barbie horses, gymkhana games and playing out ’black stallion’ on any family visit to the beach.  Horse play was my obsession.  Every weekend and holidays spent on the local yard, I was immersed in horsemanship, the good, the bad and the ugly.  But I don’t recall hearing the word horsemanship until Monty Roberts entered my radar at about 14 years old.  Then I became fascinated by the apparent ‘magic’ of horsemanship as I soaked up whatever I could find wide-eyed and in wonder.  By 17, I was hungrily documenting every whisker twitch and tail swish, though I didn’t entirely understand why.  I just knew I wanted so badly to be brilliant with horses and suddenly the play was gone and I took myself very seriously.  When I think back to those times I laugh out loud, I thought horsemanship was something that happened in the arena.  And then it all ended abruptly.  I left for university and only able to ride on holidays, I felt so disconnected I wanted none of it and I turned my back on horses and my curiosity.  The pain of grief was real.  

​Aged 30, I had an epiphany with a kick start almost as abrupt as the earlier ending.  I quit my career as a Rural surveyor and went to visit a friend in Canada.  Here I ended up taking a 6-year-old unbroken Arab mare to a 3-day Peter Campbell colt starting clinic.  Looking back, my ignorant arrogance was mind-bending but this single experience was undoubtedly life changing for me.  Peter called me Scotland for the whole clinic.  I later discovered that he thought I would quit, so he couldn’t see the point learning my name.  On the last day he was first to admit he’d underestimated the Scot as he embraced me with a bear hug and a f*@k me Scotland, you hung in there.  I have rarely felt prouder than that moment as I laughed out loud feeling a bit less serious about life and a whole lot ready to play.   

​However, I will never forget just how painful it was to take that step from unconsciously incompetent to consciously incompetent during that clinic.  Sometimes I wish that step had been slightly less public, as I stood in the middle of that dusty arena, in 35 degree heat.  The crowd peered down at me as I struggled to comprehend just how many different ways you could hold a rope whilst Peter repeatedly mocked ‘nope’ at my every attempt and the tears began to fall.  In hindsight, this was my awakening, the only way remaining from the bottom – upwards!

​Being publicly vulnerable can be particularly difficult in today’s society where judgement appears from every corner and if you make a mistake someone is sure to gloat or worse still, post about it.  It sometimes feels like everyone is out to get you and willing you to fall flat on your face.  I’ll remind you; horses are prey animals and perhaps know a thing or two about this feeling.  Vulnerability is not weakness.

​When I recount those tears at my first ever clinic, they were both of pain and joy.  Pain that I did not know what I thought I knew and joy, for that meant I was ready to learn a whole lot more.  The truth is, once you take that painful step from unconsciously incompetent to consciously incompetent you will have no intention of taking it back, and you will  come to realise this is a gift.  If you always know what you don’t know – you always have an opportunity to find out more. 
 
I came home to Scotland from that clinic in Canada, I ordered a copy of Tom Dorance’s book ‘True Unity’ and I bought my first horse – Ava.  At this point I wish to credit Ava as my ongoing mentor in horsemanship.  Of course, other great people have helped me along my journey, but like no other, this particular horse has ensured that I truly ‘show up’, that I eat regular doses of humble pie and that I never take myself too seriously.  Through a heady mix of frustration, self-doubt, exhilaration and joy (not necessarily in that order) Ava reignited a passion in me which I can now never imagine turning my back on.

​Here my horsemanship journey met a fork in the road.  One way - Ava becomes my muse and mentor.  The other way, Wilder Ways is born and people become my muse and I become their mentor.  Both routes result in and from a love of play.
 
And my own learning journey just keeps picking up pace.  For the last few years, much inspiration has come from attending the Horsemanship Showcase, so I can’t tell how excited we are to be at this year’s event (Horsemanship Showcase - The Horsemanship Event of the Year) to share our stories of empowerment through adventures, for the love of play.
 

​If you would like to continue to follow my story, keep an eye on this space as I publish my next two blogs in this wee series I am calling ‘For the love of play’.
 
Thanks for being part of my story.
​Keep adventuring, Cara xxx