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Spooky horse? Anxious rider? Need a breakthrough in riding, or life?

Spoiler alert: it's not the horse.


Let's start here: I'm not a good rider. I didn't start to ride until late in life, and I can be an anxious rider. When I fall off, I don't bounce; I break. (Though I am learning the art of the tuck and roll.) My horse Pogo is a mustang, and as such she's a pretty sensitive girl. We were both very green when we paired up. This is not a combination I recommend, by the way. At least not if you want to start with a good experience. I did not. And I was just about ready to give up riding altogether.


But recently, I had a big BREAKTHROUGH, not just in riding, but also in life.


And it came from Pogo. She is one of my equine assisted coaching partners, so it should not really be unexpected. But for my breakthrough she was acting in the capacity of my riding partner, not my coach, or my coaching partner.


Pogo
Pogo

While I attribute my breakthrough to Pogo, actually three things all came together at just the right time:

  1. I'm deep into developing a somatics based coaching program. My original concept for this program was to help people tap into the wisdom of their bodies to unravel the places in their lives where they are stuck. As a long time yoga teacher I know that we store our issues in our tissues, and sometimes we have to go back to the tissues to unlock them. In my research and studies I ran across the work of Thomas Hannah using somatic exercises to help with chronic pain. I have chronic pain in my back. I have broken my sacrum twice (about 8 years apart) as the result of coming off a horse. My back pain, however, predates both of these injuries by about 35 years. As it turns out, a LOT of people who find themselves "stuck" in some aspect of their lives also have chronic pain. Coincidence? I think not.

  2. As I mentioned above I was ready to give up riding altogether, but as a last effort I started taking lessons with Tylar Zingarella (highly recommend!) She's currently an intern with our trainer, Richard Schouten, and I must say she is wise beyond her years. She is an excellent riding coach, and she'll be starting her own business very soon in the Charleston, SC area. Look her up!

  3. Pogo, my mustang, continued to give me very specific feedback when I was on her back. She was anxious, nervous, jumpy, & counter bending. The last time I came off of her, however, I was able to tuck and roll. (Proving that you can teach an old dog new tricks.)


One day I was riding Pogo and taking a lesson from Tylar. Pogo was jumpy and anxious; Tylar encouraged me to relax. But I was relaxed, I mean really. I felt great. Heart rate in check, no sweaty palms, shoulders relaxed, even my back felt ok. I was totally Zen. Or so I thought.


Pogo and I had a little conversation:

Pogo: Why are you so nervous?

Me: I'm not nervous.

Pogo: Yes you are! What are you afraid of? Is there a tiger out there I should know about?!

Me: Everything is fine. C'mon quit being so jumpy.

Pogo: You can lie to yourself if you like, but you can't lie to me.


Then Tylar instructed me to sit deeper in the saddle, release the curve in my lower back.

I couldn't do it.

Physically.

Nope.

That's just how I'm put together. I've always had this lordotic curve.


Is it possible that I was actually holding tension I didn't even know about? How could that be? Then I remembered the somatic work from Thomas Hannah, and that's exactly what he was saying. I could find the answer to my problems within my own nervous system. And there is neuroscience to back that up. Then it clicked:


There was a connection between the pain I felt in my back and Pogo's attitude when I was on hers.


My back pain comes and goes, but the tension I carry in my back is always there. That tension is the cause of my back pain; it is also the cause of Pogo's anxiety. Even though I didn't necessarily feel back pain that day when I was on Pogo, she felt the tension in my back. She could feel my sympathetic nervous system in action. She knows that feeling means danger. I went back to Hannah's book - "Somatics: Reawakening the Mind's Control of Movement, Flexibility, and Health." I re-read the pages through the lens of my personal story, and I started doing the somatic exercises prescribed.


The result? Nothing short of miraculous. No, I'm not all of the sudden a great rider, but Pogo IS all of the sudden a great horse. She listens, she's calmer, more relaxed, and we have better conversations. Part of that is the lessons, sure. But a big part of that is me.


My back pain? Much better! Not perfect, but I've been carrying it around for about 40 years now, so it will take a little bit of time to finally let it go.


My life? How do I even say this? Once I recognized what was happening in my nervous system to cause my own pain, I was able to start to unravel and make peace with the origin of that pain. And my outlook on life, even when the world seems to be falling apart around us, is better than it's ever been. I'm physically, mentally, and spiritually more at peace, more resilient, more accepting, more curious.


I consider myself a work in progress on many fronts. For years I have been trying to become a better person, more comfortable in my skin, nicer, and happier overall in this thing called life. I also try to make sincere, honest connection with the people and animals in my life. I've practiced yoga and meditation for a long time and have made slow, steady progress with the occasional setback. Through coaching I've learned to consciously align my life with what's most important to me, and that has worked wonders. And through service to others: being a coach, teaching and helping others, I've made even more personal progress.


But this? This thing with Pogo? This was a game changer.


If you have chronic pain, a jumpy horse, or just want to get better aligned with who you really are, we should talk.


Is there someone you think might like this story? Please share!


Roz



 
 
 

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