fascinating rhythm

The giant metronome in the sky – that’s how I came to think of the incessant and precisely regular sound. It would have been maddening, except for the fact that it seemed to pulse at a tempo perfectly suited to the trotting gait of the horse I was riding that evening -- another lovely autumn night in the outdoor ring. Clear and not too cold, it was apparently also perfect for the local marching band practicing somewhere off in the distance, using an amplified electronic metronome to keep them in step.

Well, of course, I knew rhythm to be important in riding and horse training but that evening I had a very tangible experience of the effect of regularity, repetition and consistency on both my horse and myself. I found it impossible to keep from posting the trot to the beat of the metronome. So after my initial resistance, thinking ‘when will that infernal pounding stop!?’ I surrendered and noticed how happily Knickers seemed to be ticking along, dropping his head slightly, blowing out and shaking himself like a big dog, quickly settling down to trot easily around the ring. We both became somewhat mesmerized and I found that soon I hadn’t a care in the world.

The experience stayed with me and in my musician’s heart I began to ponder the significance of rhythm – a concept I had come to take for granted throughout many years of musical training. I started questioning some of my musical friends, particularly those who play jazz and Latin music, I pulled out all of my various dressage and horse training books and began to think about rhythm – in music and in horse riding, soon finding more complexity than I first imagined.

Rhythm is a vibrational phenomenon, and it exists at many levels and across time scales. Some say that our relationship to rhythm is established in our mother’s womb as we are literally immersed in the beating of her heart. Throughout our lives we experience layer upon layer of rhythms and cycles from the rising and setting of the sun, the phases of the moon, and the turning of the seasons. From the micro to the macro level, rhythm makes time apparent to us.

So, rhythm includes periodicity and regularity, contains the element of tempo, can create shape, is predictable -- the feeling of knowing what is coming next allows for relaxation. I have the rhythm of my work day, my week, the rhythm of an hour’s aikido class or a weekend intensive seminar. These days I also have the regular structure of a riding lesson – a similar progression from preparation, warm up, through gradually more demanding movements, including periods of greater and lesser intensity, ending with a winding down to walk on a long rein, halt and dismount. Like a musical phrase, a song or a symphony, a short story or a novel – each has a certain form and tempo, a rhythmic framework.

Our rhythmic sense should be completely natural and inherent, yet not everyone seems to be able to express it equally well, to “tap into it,” to “go with the flow.” If rhythm is so closely connected to relaxation, then it certainly makes sense that tension is the enemy of rhythm. Any method for releasing excess tension, whether through the Alexander Technique, Feldenkrais, meditation or constructive rest, allows us more access to this quality we all seem to crave: the pulse which has the ability to mesmerize and enthrall and which in turn puts us even further at ease.

The subject is deep and broad and all-encompassing and its application, especially in horse riding and training, so integral, I am quite certain that “I do not know what I do not know” – you know what I mean -- but it is so irresistibly fascinating that it must be explored.

And, what could seemingly illustrate rhythm more perfectly than – tap dancing! Ring in the New Year with this over-the-top number as Eleanor Powell dances to…what else – Fascinatin' Rhythm! Fortunately, even the low resolution film quality cannot disguise the precision of her body mechanics. Note her ability to isolate body parts, the easy poise of her head and if you wonder how she can move and lift her legs without disturbing her overall coordination – it’s the psoas (core strength) muscle. Enjoy!

the maestro

"Equestrian art is the perfect understanding and harmony between horse and rider."
--Nuno Oliveira
Enraptured, I watched in amazement, and could only feel that this must be the epitome, the ultimate expression of equestrian artistry -- its complete embodiment. Nuno Oliviera (1925 – 1989) personifies effortless elegance in this rare footage from his earlier years. Horse and rider are seamlessly inseparable – he transcends their duality, creating a palpable demonstration of oneness. Where does one being end and the other begin?
The creation which results is it seems greater than either could achieve alone – the horse has become a willing partner, allowing the man to experience a physicality impossible without his mount. And while a horse’s movements at liberty are undeniably beautiful, somehow the rider is able to draw out and reveal to us unimagined potentials in the horse. Their synergy positively takes our breath away.
The caption of the video “travail d'un cheval” or “work with a horse” describes not a choreographed artistic performance but rather the patient, precise and utterly consistent process of communication by a master training a pupil. The addition of the wonderfully complementary musical track may enhance the aesthetic impact, yet as I watch again in silence I find it even more magical. This masterful rider seems able to place the center of himself lower than his physical body, somewhere inside the horse – creating the effect of the mythical centaur.
What is he actually doing, I feel desperate to understand -- he is leading and following at the same time! How is he able to do this? I sense an utter absence of muscular willfulness, an infinite patience and what must be great sensitivity to every nuance of the horse’s response. And, sure enough, I perceive not just the rider’s spine but his whole head and torso being used as a tool with energy directed both upwards and downwards, and often in both directions at the same time. As I watch I feel a vague kinesthetic resonance in myself – we all must have had certain experiences -- pure and unfettered, at some point before we began accumulating our many habits of movement and reaction.
The riding is really just too exquisite – I soften inside, release my preoccupation with understanding how, and surrender to the sheer ecstasy of simply knowing that someone has lived who experienced this depth of understanding and this relationship with horses.
Apparently, as he worked, Maestro Oliviera often listened to arias from the operas he so loved – the Italian masters Verdi or Puccini. Watch the footage above with and without the soundtrack and you will find all the qualities of musical expression even in silence: lyricism, drama, the dynamic shaping of a phrase through accumulation of energy and its release, rhythm and tempo, and of course harmony, and even – harmonic dissonance! Do you sense it?Click HERE to view another much shorter video clip of this incredible master.

a moving stillness

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When did I begin to pay attention to what being a “quiet” rider means? It seems fairly recent, but seeds are always sown well ahead of the bloom. Of course, I have heard the quality praised over and over again – this rider has a quiet seat, this one quiet hands, this one a quiet presence -- but with so much else to learn and to “do,” apparently it took some time before I was ready to reflect on what quiet really means – to me, and to my horse.

Late August, Gail Field’s annual Centered Riding Clinic out at Lord Stirling Stable, my only written notes state: “DO NOTHING, learn to surrender to the horse. First do nothing – any tension or holding tells the horse something.” Hummmmm.

Early October, ah yes, there was that particularly vivid experience at Mio Morales’ weekend intensive Alexander Technique workshop. Sitting “still” in our seats, we practiced what became a kind of meditation – we gently and repeatedly brought our attention to the possibility of ease in our head/neck area. The ease ebbed and flowed with our awareness, and I was freshly reminded how much subtle movement is really taking place as we simply sit on our chairs. How interesting and refreshing it was to turn down the extraneous “noise” of excess tension and unnecessary movement. Hummmmm.

Next, a wonderful article by Elizabeth Reese, “The Alexander Technique and Classical Equitation” really got me thinking about what I have been telling my horse as I sometimes fidget around, trying to find just the right organization of myself as I ride. A few choice quotes:

* “. . . any action that the rider does make can [should] be both intentional and momentary.”

* “We must first find a place of quiet listening in order to act. Without listening, all of our actions are really reactions.”

* “The rider needs to discover a neutral place where she or he is not interfering with or disrupting the horse’s balance.”

November, Aikido Winter Camp in Florida: the image of Shibata Sensei’s “calm-before-the-storm” way of being. We quickly came to know that without any discernible movement or clue he could in a split second somehow draw an unsuspecting attacker into the center of the action. This produced a profound sense of aliveness on the mat -- magical in a way. You never knew where he would appear and you never quite knew what to expect. He captured our attention, with his quietness. His movements seemed to carry even more impact as they emerged out of a calm stillness. Hummmmm.

And periodically throughout the autumn I visited philosophical realms with “Dressage in the Fourth Dimension” written by Dr. Sherry Ackerman, a professor of philosophy who is also a dressage rider. An excerpt on sacred geometry:

“All movement begins with its antithesis, immobility. The dot, in ancient cosmologies, represented universal consciousness – the source of all things . . . in . . . dressage, we participate in the dot through the fully engaged halt. We sit, perfectly motionless in poised collection . . . as long as we do not disturb the collection, the horse remains prepared . . . for instantaneous movement in any direction . . . we sit in a stream of consciousness: the motion of immobility.”

So, lately when I get on a horse, or step onto the aikido mat, or find myself in a crowded subway or on a congested New York City street, I am very interested in the component of stillness within the activity -- how to be still without becoming tense. How does my presence affect my horse, or my training partners on the mat? Do others become more manageable or react differently to me when I stay quietly in touch with my center? Where is the neutral place where harmony begins? Hummmmm.

Shown above, Annelie sits quietly connected to the canter of one of the largest horses I have seen her ride, an enormous Cleveland Bay she rode at his owners request at the Centered Riding Clinic at Thorncroft Therapeutic Riding Center. She recently attempted to describe to me the sense of stillness that is possible on a beautifully moving horse; apparently you feel that you are doing nothing, but in reality there is a lot going on!

a thing of beauty

My process in learning to ride has eerily paralleled my beginning years of aikido training. Idealism held sway over practical matters, sometimes resulting in rude awakenings. Tears often took me off the mat in those first years, but not once did I ever consider giving up on my training. For my first riding lesson, I was placed on a 17-hand Percheron cross who decided to get rid of me midway through the hour, and while shaken, I was quite certain that it would take more than that to keep me from learning to ride horses.

Now in my third year of riding I am very thankful that my background and idealism led me early on to the pedagogy of Centered Riding® where I have received incredible benefits from learning its principles. However, I have become aware that my understanding of some of the basic concepts of equitation is lacking. It would be as if studying the Alexander Technique could produce a fabulous violinist without ever taking violin lessons, or that someone could learn the art of aikido without mastering ikkyo, nikkyo, sankyo, etc. -- the techniques through which the art is taught.

So recently, in order to continue my equestrian education, I have been applying myself to the study of “The Principles of Riding” – The Official Instruction Handbook of the German National Equestrian Federation. Initially, I believed that this book might be a bit dry, and would lack the integrated and creative approach I find so appealing in the Centered Riding® methods. To the contrary, I am currently captivated as I find answers to many of my questions using this clear, time-honored and systematic approach. Now that I have accumulated some riding experience of my own, I seem finally ready for a good dose of technical information.

Just as it has taken many years of often strenuous and repetitious aikido training to allow me to experience the finesse and expression I craved from the very beginning, I sense that the aesthetic qualities which draw me to the equestrian arts are also quite far from my grasp and require years of dedicated practice to even begin to approach. Interestingly, this doesn’t seem to curb my enthusiasm in the least – a feeling not experienced since those early years in aikido.

At the end of one of my favorite sections of the book entitled ‘The Co-ordination of the Aids,’ which builds on the previous detailed descriptions of rein, leg and seat aids, I was very pleased to find the final paragraph which emphatically states: “When a rider has developed the seat as described, it is easily recognized for its artistic and aesthetic beauty.” (emphasis mine)

Enjoy the video above which demonstrates great artistry through nearly invisible technique in the partnership of Steffen Peters and Ravel.

tally ho with Balimo™

What a great opportunity I thought when I noticed the clinic announcement on the Equestrian Education Systems (EES) website early last spring – and it was! For the past week or so I have been digesting some of the rich experience of attending the “Seat Symposium” which was held at Gleneden Dressage in Bedford, New York and conducted by Eckart Meyners, German sports physiologist and professor at the Institute for Leisure Research, Play and Movement Education (sounds like fun!) at the University of Luneburg, Germany.

Mr. Meyners is also the inventor of the Balance in Motion or “Balimo™” chair, a fascinating balance and flexibility training tool. However, I discovered over the course of the weekend that learning to use the Balimo chair is only a small part of his method for working with riders. Drawing upon the work of Moshé Feldenkrais he uses deceptively simple movement sequences to re-program habitual patterns of body use. The process creates more fluid, supple and responsive riders – evidenced both in the improved movement of the horse under saddle and the increased harmony between rider and horse.

Having now experienced Mr. Meyners’ work in person, his books are proving evermore useful and inspiring. Here is a passage which so captured my attention that I missed my subway stop! It’s another piece of the puzzle which has challenged me – how to feel grounded and stable atop the horse:

“The rider’s inner eye . . . should feel the weight of the head traveling down through the center of the body, gaining weight from the body as it goes downward. When this weight reaches the rider’s pelvis, it splits and continues down both legs and out the heels. While the body weight is traveling downward due to gravity’s force, the rider appears to be carrying her upper body upright and flexible, like a puppet with strings in the clouds. Meanwhile the pelvis is following the motion of the horse.”

As the above information sinks in, I am finding that my experience of standing on the earth is changing, as is my sense of connection to the ground while riding. In addition to paying attention to the poise of my head, I also notice that its weight is quite tangible – I call it ‘heavy in a good way.’ I don't have to interfere with the poise of my head to allow its weight to sink down through my bones, all the way to my feet, through my heels, down into the earth. A circuit is established, like plugging in a light, because as the weight flows down, an energy also rises back up through me. Paradoxically, the acceptance of the weight of the head, allows the bones to fulfill their function of support, yet also confers a sense of buoyancy and ease. It is intriguing to feel light and heavy at the same time!

Upcoming posts here will share more of the invaluable insights of Eckart Meyners.
The Balimo™ or “Balance in Motion” chair is shown above with lines drawn to illustrate the type of movements possible while seated on it (virtually limitless planes of motion). Even a short period of use brought substantially increased awareness of the “seat” bones, balance (or lack of it!) and movement potential of the whole pelvis.

swing time

The video above communicates volumes about universal principles of body mechanics: Tiger Woods’ golf swing captured exquisitely in slow motion. The aesthetic choices of the filmmaker underscore the classicism of the pure form and remind us why this athlete has achieved an almost mythic status. For me, the primary aesthetic factor is the sheer perfection of his “use of self.” The movement is undeniably beautiful, and it is also mesmerizing . . . I just never seem to tire of watching it.

I can’t seem to resist writing about it either: the still, stable central axis, the grounding which continues in polarity to the raising of his arms, the spiral initiated from the center of the body (pelvis) which is then made manifest, until you see it reaching from the tip of the toe all the way around to the end of the golf club. The slow motion allows us to absorb some of the peaceful expression on his face and the easy quality in his neck area. And do you have any doubt about the power unleashed here?

In looking for other instances of this kind of perfect melding of form and function which have the power to captivate, a variety come to mind – the sensitive and supple dressage rider creating balance and harmony with the horse, an aikido master effortlessly moving through multiple attackers, moments of brilliance during the NBA playoffs, “my” New York hawks soaring nearby and heading out over Central Park, a favorite image of my daughter which captures her in a carefree and buoyant moment. And of course music does this too – a Latin groove, a coloratura’s shimmering riff, a Chopin mazurka, Bill Evans, or a plaintive and haunting solo English horn.

Well what do these disparate performances have in common? Maybe we could call it a lack of separation between the “performer” and the activity. It’s not easy to describe – but you probably feel it too.

“To swing is when an individual player or ensemble performs in such a rhythmically coordinated way as to command a visceral response from the listener; an irresistible gravitational buoyancy that defies mere verbal definition.” (emphasis mine)

--from the Jazz in America website

Maybe that’s what I’m getting at. As the tune says, “it don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing . . .”

the thrill of it all

Much has happened during my hiatus from this space and I finally feel refreshed and ready to share again. Encountered along the journey:

-The really big skies of Montana, pungent hot springs, yoga on horseback, BodyTalk
-A falconry penpal in Wyoming
-Eckart Meyners’ brilliant work
-Alexander Technique teaching at another Susan Harris’ Centered Riding® Instructors’ Clinic
-The honeymoon ends – first scare on horseback
-Josh Lyons, Craig Cameron and Pat Parelli do aikido with horses
-Winners of the first ten years of the World Cup competition in dressage
-Aikido of Missoula – Raso Hultgren leads with power and grace
-Taking Root to Fly – essays on ideokinesis by Irene Dowd

AND, “The Horse” pre-exhibit opening reception at The American Museum of Natural History, here in New York City:

Having so looked forward to attending the event, I somewhat naively took the instructions as to “derby attire” very much to heart and was convinced that everyone attending (the women at least!) would be wearing some kind of amazing hat. This was my very first adventure with floral headgear and I thoroughly enjoyed the whole experience – but I was a bit disappointed that more of my fellow New Yorkers did not join in the spirit. Thanks to Lisa Garrison for giving me the opportunity to be one of the first people to tour the exhibit and also for causing me to acquire such an amazing hat that I will surely have to attend at least a polo match, if not one of the Triple Crown events, and probably collect a few more vintage head pieces in the process.

The exhibit opens this weekend and runs through January 4, 2009.

“Well . . . , Debra once again did it, this time uplifting the entire museum going public by wearing a stunning flower hat, bought at a vintage clothing store earlier in the day, to the opening of "The Horse" at The American Museum of Natural History. Though "derby attire" was suggested on the invitation, I can assure you that the New Yorkers in attendance were conservatively dressed and that Debbie was the ONLY one who entered the event with the stylish energies of a thoroughbred! She truly did her homework - reviewing the website of the Kentucky Museum of Arts and Design and coming up with the time honored tradition of wearing smashing hats! What Fun!

There were a handful of hats and pastels at the event, but none drew so many comments (and photos). Nor did anyone else genuinely befriend the policemen and their horses guarding the steps, who bid farewell to Debra on a first name basis as we descended. I was honored to escort a true inquirer into equestrian matters to this opening!”
-- Lisa Stewart Garrison

soft eyes, big picture

Judith Cross-Strehlke made a deep impression on me during her Centered Riding clinic a few weeks ago at Woodbine Equestrian in Southern New Jersey. Her self-contained manner, powerfully quiet presence, and generous way of tuning into each and every one of us was very inspiring.

Judy also offered me a comment in private which caused me to take a deep breath, step back so to speak, and begin to open my perspective on this process of learning to ride. She suggested that I use more “soft eyes” in relation to my whole approach to learning. Suddenly I was acutely aware of how my enthusiasm, focus and determination had subtly evolved into over-thinking, overly critical over-analysis and a kind of grasping or over-reaching.

With a sigh of relief, I decided to relinquish my hard focus and give myself the luxury of non-doing, just being with the whole idea of horses and riding for a while. No list of books to read, no blog to write. I let go and stepped back, catching myself over and over in the habitual response of asking myself “what should I be doing now?” It took the form of “I’m sure there is a book to read, a thought to get down on paper, a video to order, a clinic or course to sign up for, an image to invoke…” Each time a thought of this type surfaced, I was reminded to breathe, and out would come an audible sigh. Then I would remember to ask myself, “ wait a minute, what is the bigger picture?” 

A week of this “let’s open up to the big picture” approach turned into two, with a couple of days which masqueraded as a mild flu -- of simply sitting on the sofa, reflecting. What is the hurry? What am I really trying to learn? During this retreat on the sofa I was drawn to the Magic Eye (stereogram) books loaned to me by a friend. I had “tried” to use them a number of years ago and was never able to allow my focus to soften enough to enter their 3-D world. A week or so before the clinic I had my first experience of allowing the depth of the images to be revealed to me. Now I couldn’t seem to get enough of the peaceful place where the process of softening my vision took me. One way to learn how to see the stereograms is to start with the image directly touching your nose and allow your eyes to keep the same diffuse focus as you slowly move the image farther away.

The tendency for most of us is to try harder to see something, which I notice goes along with a tension in the neck and jaw and a holding of breath. What a good metaphor for the new approach I was exploring. What a wonderful biofeedback tool for soft eyes. And as I discovered very quickly when teaching the Alexander Technique to the Centered Riding instructors last autumn, most of them immediately released tension in their head/neck relationship at the mere mention of using soft eyes.

If you would like to learn more and try it for yourself, visit: The Magic Eye image of the week. In addition to reminding me to soften my approach and expand my vision of riding, Judy also shared much detailed information and instruction during the clinic. We are already making plans to see her again soon and other ideas from her teaching will be making their way into my reflections here.

Judy rode several horses during the clinic; above she is shown with Chloe, a sweet and beautiful Andalusian mare. Watching her make an immediate connection to Chloe and proceed to ride with seeming effortlessness reminded me of a phrase we use when describing several of our aikido master instructors: “no moving parts.” It really just means that they are so integrated, functioning with such harmony, that we cannot see how they do what they are doing!

enchantment

Spring is in the air in New York today. Junior and Charlotte, the pair of Red-tailed hawks who live across the street from my office window, were just observed soaring high above, slowly circling in a synchronized dance, gradually spiraling down to land in their nesting area high up the building at 888 Seventh Avenue. Usually I don’t see them until mid-afternoon. Although I am becoming more used to their presence, each episode still inspires awe – they enchant me with their regal bearing and their ability to glide effortlessly, often seeming to almost stop their motion – that is when they cast their spell and time stands still.

This past weekend we fell under a different spell. I met my very first stallion, an Andalusian aptly named “Brujo.” His name is translated variously as wizard, magician, sorcerer – he is a fairy tale horse like no other I have personally encountered. His owner, and the owner of the beautiful facility where the Centered Riding clinic was held, is Sue Holtz of Woodbine Equestrian Center. She kindly let us tag along with her and introduced us to Brujo, who was holding court out in his spacious paddock field. She patiently explained some of the aspects of stallion behavior as we gaped at him -- incredulous, smitten. While she emphasized that the “biting” movements of his mouth and lips are typical of stallions, part of their need for stimulation and contact and do not necessarily indicate ill will, she also made sure that we understood that Brujo does bite and that she must not allow him to even catch hold of a piece of her jacket – the next time he could bite her arm and crush the bones.

Helene and I were sufficiently impressed with the above information and kept our distance. We observed him from afar as he pranced back and forth, keeping an eye on his empire and all activity taking place within it. Sue told us that Brujo, as the stallion on the farm, feels a great responsibility – he feels in charge of all the other horses – geldings and mares and ponies alike, and with each visitor to the property he re-asserted his dominance with another flashy pass across the field, head tossing, glorious mane flowing, his complete awareness very apparent.

Later in the afternoon when Helene received permission to feed him an apple, I asked Annelie to come along, partially to keep an eye on us. Brujo was a perfect gentleman, taking the slices from our flat palms, even allowing us to pet him and fawn over him briefly – until the apple was gone, that is. Then he was off, back to the serious business of keeping track of all and everything.

When the clinic was officially over, we lingered, chatting with new friends, Helene spoiling horses, dogs and chickens with treats and affection. I followed Sue out to the paddock and watched as she put a halter on Brujo and, dressage crop at the ready, led him purposefully to his stall in the barn. I also watched, fascinated, as she groomed and tacked him up – noticing her focus and vigilance throughout the process. We were then rewarded with the thrill of seeing her ride him in the outdoor ring. Here was masterful riding we could only dream of, the power and beauty of their movement heart-stopping, the intensity of their relationship mesmerizing. Magic was in the air as we left, reluctantly heading back to the City – the enchanted ones left behind barely noticed our departure.

Above are some photos documenting our ensorcellment.***

***en·sor·cell ( n-sôr s l); en·sor cell·ment n.: To enchant; bewitch.
[French ensorceler, from Old French ensorcerer, ensorceler : en-, intensive pref.; see en-+ sorcier, sorcerer.]