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Article - April 2002
In
The Shadow of Equus To Compete - or to Simply Ride | ||
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However, several years ago another friend gave up riding altogether because an injury prevented her from competing. When it was suggested that she ride for pleasure, she looked aghast. If she couldn't compete, she didn't want to ride. In her mind, the very idea of owning a horse was justified by commitment to the grind and discipline of the competition circuit. The competitive link between horses and humans goes back centuries. And it likely began not so much for the sport of it all as for sheer survival. Over 3,000 years ago, being mounted meant being able to move further, faster, and often with more deadly intent. In the competition for expanding tribal territory, or the need to defend turf already conquered, being mounted was the competitive edge to winning the war. Competition for food was decisively easier when mounted, as was defense of the watering hole, or the search for a new one. From the trails of the Eurasian steppe, to the Mongolian desert and the lush river valleys of Europe, riding a horse from an old hunting camp to a new one meant having the edge to beat the competition to the spoils. That same competitive edge was found in tribal backyards where ancient equestrian games were merely dry runs for the tactics of war. A fit horse, fleet of foot and with athletic ability to jump, twist and turn, may have made light work of dodging arrows or deadly stones.
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Since we don't need to make our living through daily equestrian skirmishes any more, we have the luxury to take a fresh look at our relationship with horses and chart some new territory. For a growing number of people, though, this new turf is an internalized landscape of the mind, emotion and spirit. Leaving competition behind, people are exploring some quality time with horses to relieve the stress of competition in other areas of our lives. Through the simple pleasures of caring for a horse, watching its natural behaviour and enjoying a quiet ride, many people are discovering a harmony and a centre in their lives that are otherwise pressured by deadlines, commitments and endless family and working needs. Horses are a way back to ourselves. They are partners, companions, friends. Yet, at the same time, they are a challenge and to ride any horse requires focus, alertness, confidence and unity. How we deal with that challenge helps us stretch both mentally and emotionally. The spoils of those mental gymnastics are the acquired benefits that renew our energy to cope with the rest of life. In "Horse Sense and the Human Heart" (Health Communications 1997), Drs. Adele and Marlena Deborah McCormick explore the very essence of centredness and our emotional connection to equines. The mother and daughter team are psychotherapists with over three decades' experience helping the most desperate and the most despairing connect with themselves through therapeutic work with their Peruvian Paso horses. "Horses have the uncanny ability to illuminate who we are and where we need to go. They respond to us as unique individuals and somehow understand who we are in our hearts and souls. Horses can touch deep recesses in us that are inaccessible to most people - regions people are afraid to address in others, much less in themselves." Getting mounted 3,000 years ago may have been a decisive act to beat the competition. But it challenged and opened up new levels of the human psyche we are still exploring.
Read Margaret Evans' column "In The Shadow Of Equus" each month in The Pacific & Prairie Horse Journal |
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Recently,
a chance conversation with a friend triggered some pretty interesting
dialogue about what we do with our horses and how we value our time
with them. Taking the decision to step back from equestrian competition,
she commented that there was a quietly growing movement of people doing
the same thing - stepping back from competition. People were riding
their horses for pure pleasure, for some well-earned rest and relaxation,
or for some stress-busting therapy. The conversation reminded me of
an acquaintance in Alberta who never competes with her horse. Neither
do some friends who live in northern British Columbia, the Interior
and in the Fraser Valley.