Realignment

You know that saying about best laid plans? Well, I got to experience just how awry things can go first hand this winter. It was incredibly uncomfortable on so many levels. It was also exactly what I needed.

I got to Ocala on January 2nd with the intention of showing my horse, Fantastic Mr. Fox, on the eventing circuit, and looking to soak up all the learning I could while staying at Copperline Farm with Tik and Sinead Maynard. Fox and I had two lovely rides together soon after our arrival, and while tacking up for our third, I noticed a little swelling in his right front fetlock. Long story short, after 6 weeks of diagnostics including x-rays, ultrasounds, an MRI, and two PET scans, we knew my horse had injured his intersesamoidean ligament in an unprecedented way (there is literally not a single case study out there of an injury like his). He would need about a year off to hopefully heal properly and return to work. I was horseless, and all of the hopes I had pinned on the season were dashed. It was heartbreaking, and I cried my guts out for nights on end.

This turn of events also led me to realize how much of myself I was wrapping up into my plans with Fox. He is gorgeous and fancy, and I had been subconsciously envisioning being “seen” and taken note of while in Ocala. On some level, I had a secret little hope that our winter together would be a step towards becoming “someone” on the eventing scene, and somehow I had constructed a whole set of plans and outcomes around this hope without even realizing it. Fox’s injury shone a bright light on these things, which I found myself sincerely surprised to discover, as I thought I had put to rest those desires to prove myself “worthy” many, many years ago…apparently not. So as difficult as the shock of Fox’s new circumstance was, the whole situation was a blessing in disguise, forcing me to slow down and look at my beliefs and motivations from a different perspective. When proving that I was enough through the accomplishments I imagined I might attain by owning and riding Fox was no longer a possibility, a whole lot of fear reared up in its place.

As I began to process this fear and its accompanying emotions, I also realized that without a horse for the upcoming year, I would be missing out on some amazing opportunities at my own farm, including working with several world-renouned riders who I would be hosting as clinicians. So I devised a plan to find a horse to ride for the 2025 season. I was thrilled to find that plan coming together more easily than I had dared to hope, as I connected with the owner of a lovely young warmblood mare who’s needs seemed to align with my own. I took the mare on at the beginning of February with the intent of bringing her back to Maine as my partner for learning and competing for the year.

The mare and I hit it off and I really enjoyed playing with her. She was game at home, and game off property, though a bit herd-bound. I made a plan to take her out to a little baby event near the end of my time in Ocala, and continued our work together with that goal in mind. At the same time, I was facing a challenge in the How to Perform program, led by Natalie Hummel and Hannah Sue Hollberg, that I was participating in. The task for the group that month was to own your big goal; the thing that your heart calls you to do, even if it feels impossible. For the life of me, I could not put my finger on mine. It was beyond frustrating. I felt like it should be easy! It seemed like everyone in the group had one. For many, it was becoming a 5* rider, for some, it was making a US team, and for others it was simply being a better partner for their horse. Despite my longing for clarity, I could not make a single thing come out of my mouth when asked to share my goal.

Somehow I was allowing the perceived opinions of others dictate what I thought my goal “should” be, rather than allowing myself to really ponder what I wanted to be doing with horses.

Right around then, a good friend shared an excerpt from a book she was reading. It defined the difference between a need and a want, and described what happens when someone chooses the actions in their life based on one or the other. It was immediately clear to me that I was basing more of my decisions on need than want, and that I was mistaking my big goal for a need, rather than a want. Somehow I was allowing the perceived opinions of others dictate what I thought my goal “should” be, rather than allowing myself to really ponder what I wanted to be doing with horses. So for the first time, I allowed myself to imagine, if there were no rules or restrictions of time, money, or the opinions of others, what I would truly want to do…and there it was, clear as day. I want to learn more about the things I have not yet learned, namely training and riding the upper level movements of dressage, and to keep playing with horses at liberty and in bridleless riding. I want to flex my artistic muscles by designing costumes, choosing music and choreographing performances with horses. Imagining doing those things is where I felt the spark of joy light up my heart. It felt crystal clear, and it was also absolutely terrifying.

I am not exaggerating when I say I have built my whole professional life with horses and a large part of my identity around being a striving upper level event rider with FEI goals. I have known for a long time that I don’t want to be a 5* rider, but I have been hanging on to the idea that with the “right horse”, I would like to maybe be a 3* rider. And I know that if I dedicated myself to that task, I have the capability to do it. At the same time, I recognized that the identity I have been holding onto in my life with horses and what I truly wanted to be doing were not in alignment, and that to move forward with integrity, I would need to admit that out loud. The prospect of this sent me into an absolute tailspin of second guessing and panic that I have rarely felt in my life…which was a clear signal that there was some work to do in this area of my inner landscape.

The prospect of risking that percieved sense of belonging, no matter how tenuous or imagined, was what had me in a total panic.

What I discovered with help and guidance from the How to Perform group and other friends, through a lot of introspection and tears, was that from a very early age, I equated safety and belonging with being an eventer and moving up the levels. You see, I grew up in Pony Club, following the eventing path, as that is what you had to do “rate up”. Pony Club was the first place where I found my people. People who accepted me and cheered me on. I thought that in order to remain in relationship to those people, I needed to keep rating up and competing in eventing, even if I was scared or didn’t really want to. This was something that my adolescent brain decided was true, even if it wasn’t, and so it became a habit and then a belief. It turns out I was still buying into it 30 years later. The prospect of risking that percieved sense of belonging, no matter how tenuous or imagined, was what had me in a total panic. I realized how thoroughly I was outsourcing my feelings of safety and acceptance, and began the work of healing and rewiring those long held beliefs, all the while still preparing the young mare I was working with for her baby event at the end of March.

The clarity I felt was amazing. I had zero desire to continue calling myself an upper-level event rider, and felt totally free to admit that to myself and anyone else who was interested.

Then several surprising and amazing things happened all at once. First, I took the mare to the show, and immediately upon arrival, I had the feeling that I didn’t actually care to be at a competition. This was revolutionary, because every show I had been to as a non-competitor that season had left me desparate to be there on a horse, throwing my hat into the ring with everyone else. Now I was more like, “meh, I’d be fine not doing this.” Zero desire to prove anything to anyone. But I got on with it anyway, and laid down a VERY nice first dressage test ever for the mare, earning us a 16.9 that put us about 20 pts ahead of the second place test. Then came the show jumping warm up, where the little mare felt completely overwhelmed by the energy of the other horses. I helped her settle as best I could, and debated going into the show arena at all. In the end I decided that she might be more relaxed in the ring on her own than in the warm up with other horses, so opted to take her in. I ended up needing to trot almost the whole course just to help the mare see the jumps and not exit the arena whenever she passed the gate. I knew I did a great job helping her and schooling her appropriately without any fear in myself. And as we finished, two things were clear…I didn’t care at all that we had just racked up 40 penalty points, and I didn’t want to be throwing my hat into that particular arena any more.

I have never been so happy after doing so poorly at a show! The clarity I felt was amazing. I had zero desire to continue calling myself an upper-level event rider, and felt totally free to admit that to myself and anyone else who was interested. This also meant that I needed to have an honest conversation with the mare’s owner, to give her my perspective on what her horse needed in order to be brought along appropriately in her training, and to let her know that was not the direction I saw myself headed in the coming season. As always happens when you operate and communicate from integrity, the conversation went well, and we made a plan for the mare to head home before I moved north at the beginning of April. With the finality of this decision, I did notice my rising panic about the season ahead, and at the same time, I began to trust that the next right step would appear if I kept aligning with my integrity.

And it did…in the shape of a little buckskin quarter horse that Tik Maynard chose as his colt for Road to the Horse this year…I named Rumor after purchasing him at the end of the competition.

So here we are, back in Maine…Fox and I are spending time pushing balls and barrels around my indoor, practicing his lay-down, and taking time to release layers of tension that we have both been holding for years. Rumor and I are getting to know each other, starting from scratch and taking our time to create a shared language.

I am making plans for catch rides at the clinics I am hosting, and adding clinic dates later in the season with trainers who inspire me to move authentically and joyfully along my path with horses. I am spending more time questioning the voice in my head (my ego) and things it tells me are the truth, understanding that those “truths” may simply be beliefs that I came by honestly, and that I can also forgive myself for buying into, as I create more capacity for being right where I am in this moment on my path.

If you're looking to do a bit of digging below the surface, to develop a deeper understanding of your horse, with clearer communication, I invite you to join us as an auditor for the 4th Annual New England Spring Symposium with Tik and Sinead Maynard on the weekend of May 16th-18th.

When you come to audit the Symposium, you will:

1. ​Gain valuable perspective to help break through barriers, and clarify a path forward for you and your horse​

2. Learn to focus and prepare for your goals with your horse, while also allowing for flexibility to accommodate setbacks or side quests

3. Interact with the instructors, riders, and other auditors. You'll feel like you're part of a community the whole time

4. Audit up to 6 hours of groundwork and jumping lessons, and participate in daily interactive discussions and Q&A sessions

   
   

I'm Interested in Auditing the Spring Symposium

The realignment within myself has enabled me to move forward in my work with Fox, Rumor, my clients, and mySELF, with deeper clarity. With self-clarity and alignment comes clearer communication; a cornerstone to a productive path forward through any endeavor.