the act of hearing attentively
Reflecting on last week’s riding lesson, I realized that my experience was very full of me trying to tell my horse what to do. Granted, he was a horse in need of clear direction. In retrospect, however, it seems that I spent a lot of time talking at him – a predominantly one-sided conversation. Did I really think I could boss him around, and were my standards impossibly high? My internal dialogue might run like this: is he really close enough to the rail, did he try to cut that corner of the ring, is he walking fast enough, am I giving him clear direction, is he listening to me? Well, that sounds like a conversation with myself, not with my horse, doesn’t it?
The memory of a few moments where my experience was different is causing me to think about what might be the riding equivalent of the good conversationalist’s dictum: “talk less/listen more.” In a way we both were listening at those moments of perceived unity or harmony. As a musician, harmony has a definite meaning to me – and we were each creating our own tone. If you are playing in an ensemble, even just a duet, you must listen carefully and continue listening, matching your tone to the others’ and constantly making incredibly subtle adjustments, which preserve the element of harmony. This could also describe the process of “keeping your balance" – a misnamed phrase. Balance is not a fixed position you can “keep” or a destination you are aiming to reach, but a subtly dynamic state.
The riders I most admire all possess a quiet quality of leadership and I am beginning to realize that this quality is developed through listening, even more than by leading. It’s more about being than doing. A quote from a wonderful book called It’s A Lot Like Dancing, by the aikido teacher, Terry Dobson, reminds me that these riders all have a similar aura surrounding them, and one aspect of this way of being might be described by the word tact:
“Tact is the ability to do the right thing at the right time. How do we know how to do this? How to be tactful? You can’t decide to be tactful. You can only do it intuitively, when you are fully engaged, when your spirit is collected or synchronous. Tact comes from the Latin word tangere, which means “to touch.” In Aikido, we touch each other physically and spiritually. In this way we are learning to open ourselves up to tact, to saying and doing the right thing at the right time.”
Listening means being open to hearing or experiencing something we might not expect and being willing to adapt ourselves to the situation. The activity of listening encompasses both my outer and my inner life. By remaining open and receptive to the subtle intuitive cues coming from within I know I greatly enhance both my self-knowledge and my listening skills.
In recent lessons I have ridden and quickly become enamored of a large paint horse named Amigo, who just happens to have a few “issues.” I confessed to my friend Helene that paint horses always make my heart beat a little faster. Shown above is Jerry, who provided some of my very first positive riding experiences. I call him “that handsome devil.”
Reflecting on last week’s riding lesson, I realized that my experience was very full of me trying to tell my horse what to do. Granted, he was a horse in need of clear direction. In retrospect, however, it seems that I spent a lot of time talking at him – a predominantly one-sided conversation. Did I really think I could boss him around, and were my standards impossibly high? My internal dialogue might run like this: is he really close enough to the rail, did he try to cut that corner of the ring, is he walking fast enough, am I giving him clear direction, is he listening to me? Well, that sounds like a conversation with myself, not with my horse, doesn’t it?
The memory of a few moments where my experience was different is causing me to think about what might be the riding equivalent of the good conversationalist’s dictum: “talk less/listen more.” In a way we both were listening at those moments of perceived unity or harmony. As a musician, harmony has a definite meaning to me – and we were each creating our own tone. If you are playing in an ensemble, even just a duet, you must listen carefully and continue listening, matching your tone to the others’ and constantly making incredibly subtle adjustments, which preserve the element of harmony. This could also describe the process of “keeping your balance" – a misnamed phrase. Balance is not a fixed position you can “keep” or a destination you are aiming to reach, but a subtly dynamic state.
The riders I most admire all possess a quiet quality of leadership and I am beginning to realize that this quality is developed through listening, even more than by leading. It’s more about being than doing. A quote from a wonderful book called It’s A Lot Like Dancing, by the aikido teacher, Terry Dobson, reminds me that these riders all have a similar aura surrounding them, and one aspect of this way of being might be described by the word tact:
“Tact is the ability to do the right thing at the right time. How do we know how to do this? How to be tactful? You can’t decide to be tactful. You can only do it intuitively, when you are fully engaged, when your spirit is collected or synchronous. Tact comes from the Latin word tangere, which means “to touch.” In Aikido, we touch each other physically and spiritually. In this way we are learning to open ourselves up to tact, to saying and doing the right thing at the right time.”
Listening means being open to hearing or experiencing something we might not expect and being willing to adapt ourselves to the situation. The activity of listening encompasses both my outer and my inner life. By remaining open and receptive to the subtle intuitive cues coming from within I know I greatly enhance both my self-knowledge and my listening skills.
In recent lessons I have ridden and quickly become enamored of a large paint horse named Amigo, who just happens to have a few “issues.” I confessed to my friend Helene that paint horses always make my heart beat a little faster. Shown above is Jerry, who provided some of my very first positive riding experiences. I call him “that handsome devil.”
1 comment:
I love the photos!!!
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