My two younger sisters and I were deeply fortunate to grow up attending weekly horseback riding lessons until we moved to a farm when I was in middle school. On the outskirts of Minooka IL, we rebuilt the hundred-year-old barn and fenced in some acreage on the property to accommodate ponies and horses. I rode the nearby cornfields and continued to show at small, local shows until I left for my first year of college to study Equestrian Science in Missouri. It was the perfect childhood.
Driving us to and from lessons twice a week or more, cheering us on from horse show bleachers and writing check after check at feed stores, working two and sometimes three jobs to support our horse-crazy passion, and tirelessly supporting us in a way she’d only dreamed of when she was a girl was Mom.
Mom always made an effort to find vacation spots where we could trail ride as a family, and her infrequent moments horseback were certainly memorable (I have an especially potent memory from Bear Basin Ranch, where we got special permission from the resident cowboy who smelled faintly of whiskey to go on a snowy winter ride. After catching her horse straight out of the field and riding a few miles away from the herd, her horse promptly spun around and ran full boar back toward his herdmates. Mom kept her balance and her cool until Cowboy caught up with her and grabbed the reins!), but these riding forays were short-lived. Mom’s tenure as a horseperson was more vicarious than direct.
Mom just turned sixty last month (and I thirty, last December), and I felt that this was a meaningful transition time for the both of us. With age and distance away from my horse-crazy youth, I could see that though Mom worked so hard to afford us the life she’d have loved as a kid, she never really allowed herself the chance to gain the horse experience she provided us. So for her recent trip to Washington, Nathan and I decided we’d give her the experience as a 60th birthday present!
We headed to Orcas Island, a lovely ferry ride away from our home in the Skagit Valley, and made our way out to Kate Wood’s beautiful farm and residence. Kate has four gorgeous mustangs she’s gentled and enlists to help her teach natural horsemanship skills and work at-liberty to individuals and groups. I thought that this would be just the right kind of experience for Mom, a new way of looking at and connecting with horses that she might not have ever seen before. She’d been on the sidelines for many, many years as my sisters and I took formal riding lessons and competed in shows, but this was her turn in the arena.
When we arrived on the property, it was the morning after a torrential storm, and I felt a relieved calmness in the air. Kate’s three bay mustangs were laying together in the arena, sleeping peacefully. The sun, as if on cue, began to creep over the top of the forest surrounding Kate’s farm and we were greeted by a sweet grin under a ballcap. Kate introduced herself and she took Mom right into the arena, where they began circling around with a wheel barrel and pitchfork, cleaning up and chatting casually. She explained that because humans are predators and horses are prey animals, our first interactions with the horses can help set the stage for a successful partnership.
“Walking around cleaning up the arena, we’re playing the part of the lion that just finished a big meal. We become less of a threat to the horses.” As Kate spoke with Mom and they circled the arena slowly, feigning disinterest, the horses became more and more curious, approached them, following them around, almost in their way, asking for their attention. I knew that this was the right match for the kind of experience I wanted to offer Mom!
The lesson progressed and Mom chose to work at liberty with the horse she was most drawn to, Ranger. Kate’s coaching was observant, subtle and understated. She allowed time and space for Mom to figure some things out, to feel how it felt when a cue was not effective, and feel when it was right. What I appreciated the most was that she created a safe space where it was okay to make a “mistake” — and then truly learn in a more deep and lasting way.
What amazed me most was my Mom. She fumbled and looked a little timid at first, and I recognized a trait in her that I struggle with: she was afraid to do something wrong. But then, after just a few demonstrations and cues from the observant Kate, Mom really started to get it. Midway through the lesson, Mom looked like she had been doing liberty work for years.
She was truly a natural.
And then it hit me: of course she was a natural. We Tierney girls had to have inherited our horse gifts from somewhere. Growing up, I’ve had many trainers and riding instructors call me a “natural,” and looking at my mom I could so clearly see what they saw in me. Kate echoed this observation in a few comments to me on the sidelines as we watched Mom guide Ranger in gentle leadership around the arena, asking him to halt, having him circle her at a walk and trot, back, turn, lower his head, step up and off a stump. They were such a lovely team, and looked like they’d been working together for far longer than a brief lesson on a November afternoon.
For me, sitting on the sidelines, snapping pictures and witnessing my Mom really come into her own, becoming more present, commanding yet at the same time gentle, and effectively connecting with a gorgeous halterless mustang was one of the most special experiences of my life.
MORE PHOTOS COMING SOON!
None would have been possible without the miraculous Kate Wood and her amazing herd of mustangs. I couldn’t have asked for a better match for my Mom. We’re already planning for her next trip back out to Washington … maybe we’ll do one of her group leadership sessions with the whole family!
I am overwhelmed with gratitude tonight. We broke a world record up in the Hayloft … fifteen of us lined out our mats and squeezed into the space between hay bales above horse stalls for practice. I saw kind new faces and dear old friends, and was completely overcome by a sweet, nourishing sense of community.
Sometimes when a large group gets together, it feels scattered or rambunctious, but tonight’s practice was deeply quiet. Even the swooping, singing barn swallows calmed and came to a landing as we listened to our breath, connected inside, and began to move with awareness. The loft felt transformed into a kind of sanctuary, lulled by the horses methodically chewing their dinner, shrouded in a beautiful sense of peace. It was magical to be a part of.
This type of feeling takes practice. It is not something that comes so natural or easy for many of us, although as my teacher says, “it is your natural state” — so perhaps a better way to say it is that we are simply out of practice. Our minds are busy for much of the day (and night!), and over time we forget what it is like to have a simple, quiet awareness. When we practice yoga, we learn how to be simple and quiet again. We begin with our breath, using that simple awareness as a vehicle to re-discover who we really are. When we are connected with who we really are–our true nature–we are automatically better at whatever we do, whether that is working with a nervous horse or having a challenging conversation with a family member or enjoying the beauty of a sunset. This is why yoga helps us to become better horse people, and better people in general. In other words, the benefits of yoga run far deeper than the physical postures. Anyone who has practiced yoga has a sense for that.
I am so grateful to be surrounded by a community who is willing to do this kind of work, who is committed to taking the time to practice being simple and quiet. The world needs more of this type of feeling, of this type of community. I hope that each of you know how powerfully your inner state–your connection to your true, radiant self–ripples out into the world. This is how we make the most profound difference in our communities and beyond–not through great feats, but through each and every small act. As Mahatma Ghandi–a great yogi–said, “Be the change you wish to see in the world.”
I am so honored to be connected with each of you. May each of you shine brightly with your radiant heart.
This is one of the best times for babies in the Hayloft! Come out to class tonight and get your fix!
We have baby horses, baby barn swallows, baby barn owls, baby bison …
An inspiring quote from last week’s practice:
“Every yoga posture involves a ‘push’ and a ‘yield.’ Pushing is an active force that moves the body further and deeper into the posture, gently exploring areas of tightness. Yielding is a passive force with which you wait and listen to the moment-to-moment feedback from your body; it’s a letting go of resistance that allows the active force to be successful without being aggressive. The pushing and yielding elements occur simultaneously, as in a dance. Done properly, therefore, yoga is a matter of pushing and yielding, of ‘doing’ and ‘not-doing,’ at the same time.”
Yoga: The Spirit and Practice of Moving into Stillness
Is there a Chicken Pose?
Come on over to Hayloft Yoga at Double S Quarter Horses in Bow to find out!
Every Tuesday from 6-7pm. Sure to be the most unique soundtrack in any yoga class you’ll encounter!
There are countless benefits of yoga, and the Yoga Health Foundation offers a list of research-supported, evidence-based findings, supporting the relief of conditions ranging from fatigue to cancer, inflammation to menopause, anxiety & depression. Quite extensive!
What the list doesn’t quite get at, however, is the depth of connection we can cultivate in practice to our Inner Self, or our deepest truth. It’s hard to measure the subtle qualities that we get in touch with and develop through a yoga practice. Tonight’s class was guided by the heart center, opening both physically and energetically to our highest potential in our asanas and, ultimately, in our lives.
“The heart is the hub of all sacred places. Go there and roam in it.”
At the end of class, as we settled into Savasana, placing support under our knees to nourish the low back, lengthening our necks, relaxing our shoulders, our arms, opening our hearts and palms to the sky in a gesture of receiving via letting go.
Even the horses got quiet. Matney brought out her guitar and sang till our hearts were as full as the moon …
Om shanti shanti shanti.
Thank you for a beautiful practice.
Matney’s band, The Mudflat Walkers, will be playing at their CD Release Extravaganza (kid-friendly!) upcoming on Friday, September 19th from 5-9pm in Fairhaven. I hope you will join me in celebrating (bring carrots for her four-legged co-star, whose Debut Performance will be featured during the Mudflat Walkers set)!
Every yoga posture involves a ‘push’ and a ‘yield.’ Pushing is an active force that moves the body further and deeper into the posture, gently exploring areas of tightness. Yielding is a passive force with which you wait and listen to the moment-to-moment feedback from your body; it’s a letting go of resistance that allows the active force to be successful without being aggressive. The pushing and yielding elements occur simultaneously, as in a dance. Done properly, therefore, yoga is a matter of pushing and yielding, of ‘doing’ and ‘not-doing,’ at the same time.”
How can this concept apply to your riding?
Your relationship with your horse?
With other people?
Wishing you all a blissful and happy evening!
I am so honored and filled with smiles by Hadea’s sweet comment after Hayloft Yoga last evening and I want to share it with all of you!
“Each week I show up for Hayloft Yoga with Jessie I think I am there for my body, my flexibility and my strength. 60 minutes later I realize I am there because it fills my soul.
It is like filling up a bag with coffee beans at the grocery store: you slide your little bag under the spout and lean into it and WHOOSH! It is full. It aligns me with Source in such a full way I am awash with self love and compassion. So so so so good. ♡”
It fills me up to have the opportunity to teach yoga in one of the most peaceful spots I can imagine, to some of the sweetest folks I could ask to know, who are equally willing to open up and feel ~ deeply ~ how full their souls already are. Yoga gives us the tools to do just that: to let go of the cloudiness and see clearly that we are really already full inside. I have so much gratitude to each of you for being a part of my community.
You help me feel full, too!
I’d like to leave you with the quote I read at the start of class, from a book I am enjoying so very much called Zen Mind Zen Horse. I recommend it whole-heartedly to all of you!
“One lesson horses teach us right away is that intention begins with inspiration. The foundation of training begins and ends with a breath. Deep breathing disciplines us to slow down. As predators, we like everything as fast as possible, preferably yesterday. Why? The faster the action, the quicker the reward. For prey animals it is just the opposite. The slower the action is, the more it gets absorbed.
Prey animals are patient. For them, rushing is inextricably linked to fear. Proper learning and reflection require tranquility and safety. As super-charged predators, humans need to purposefully slow themselves down. Breathing benefits the trainer by assembling and focusing her attention.”
I invite you to check in throughout your day with a deep, yogic belly breath. See how gently you can expand and lengthen your inhale, and how softly, slowly and completely you can experience the exhale. Just one deep, slow breath, a few times throughout your day. I’m confident it will remind you of how to feel full of Source, or Love, or Compassion, or whatever it is you think you lack.