Complex problems have simple, easy to understand, wrong answers. -Henry Louis Mencken
Through witnessing my own journey and the journeys of my students, I have found that most of the time, most of us are looking for someone to give us a simple, step-by-step set of instructions to follow. If we have a problem, we think the solution is to find someone that can tell us how to fix it. If we are asked to do something we haven't done before, we want to know the exact steps to take to accomplish the goal. We can see the evidence of this trend in the magazines at any supermarket checkout; 10 ways to lose 10 lbs, 15 time-saving shortcuts, 5 ways to please your lover. Many of us have become steadfastly sure of our own inabilities and blindingly scared of making mistakes.
This need for direction has been one of my largest horsemanship struggles. Having come to horses as an adult, I felt from the beginning as though I was lagging far behind those around me that had been involved with horses for years. It seemed like there was so much to know; the proper way to groom and clean stalls, how to read the horse's body language, how to use the ropes, halters, and other tack, how to ride properly… the list of things I didn't know was endless. I learned to ask a lot of questions, which was wonderful. What was not wonderful was the idea I developed that I never knew enough to be successful.
So, like many others before me, as I progressed I looked for bigger and better experts with bigger and better recipe books to walk me through everything step-by-step. I found them in abundance. There were books upon books, articles galore, stacks of DVDs, and constant seminars to teach me new techniques to solve my problems. Most want to ensure that they sound important an useful, so they fall into the trap of offering how-to information; How-to get great communication, how-to de-spook a horse, how-to perfect your rein-positions. Once they tell me what my problem is, they then offer simple, easy to understand answers that have little to do with the particular dynamics of my living relationship with my horse.
The first time this pattern became really clear to me was when I spent a year teaching horsemanship to volunteers at a rescue. Most of them were brand-new to horses with a hunger to learn. As they progressed, I found that they were having trouble generalizing the lessons I was trying to teach them. They believed my suggestions to them were only applicable to the specific scenario about which they asked. My constant challenge became to try and present information to them in a way that empowered them to make their own observations and decisions, rather than always needing to rely on me.
I found that these efforts met with very mixed success. Some of the volunteers never found the faith in themselves required to step beyond the need for constant guidance. Others were off and running with wonderful results as soon as they understood that it was ok to listen to their own instincts and observations and to ask questions when they did actually need more information. What really struck me was that those who felt empowered progressed in their equine relationships exponentially faster than even the needy students who got personal attention from me several hours a week.
I believe that those who had trouble were less successful simply because, as they were constantly looking simple instructions, they were putting my expertise in between themselves and their horses. In effect, they were making me the mediator in their relationships, which kept them from achieving any real connection. Contrarily, by trusting their own decisions and communication skills, the empowered students formed very strong, very direct relationships with their horses. Once the foundation of the relationship was in place, developing to higher and higher levels was natural. They discovered the truth - that the answer to their complex horse problems was actually very simple: listen to yourself, listen to the horse, and always put the relationship first.