Dynamic Unity

The horse evolves constantly, and we need to evolve the same way. Mastering the forces around the Center of Mass, the new understanding of balance control, demands daily adaptation of many muscles, tendons, and fascia. As muscles and fascia evolve in constant coordination, the horse physique can evolve in improper coordination, and it is our job to feel and correct it. It is very easy to be fooled by feeling. We get used to an incorrect feeling. Working alone is a problem as we spend days or weeks before we realize that the horse went in the wrong direction, which is more difficult to correct. I faced this problem. My luck is that all my life, I have ridden four to eight or more horses per day. They were all different, and one helped me recognize the wrong evolution that another horse developed.
Video lessons are useful. After live training, they are the second most efficient solution, as I can point out a developing problem before it becomes a problem or even pathology. There is also the constant evolution of science and the refinement of the practical application. Many horse difficulties are easier to correct with today’s knowledge than they were a few years or even a few months ago. The concept of the Center of Mass, for instance, The evolution from linear thinking, makes possible an education that was a struggle, thinking that balance control was a linear control of forces. Before Steven Levin explained the Center of Mass, I felt the constant lateral shifts with every horse and felt they were part of balance control but not as important as they truly are. Today, instead of trying to increase the balance through the greater tone of my body or the false theory of shifting the weight backward, I focus on channeling the numerous and minute lateral shifts. It is easier and more effective.
The knowledge evolves constantly, and if we don’t evolve, we go backward. I don’t understand why riders need to believe that they know all. We talked about that with Betsy this morning. We have worked together for decades, and we are very comfortable with the fact that we need each other knowledge. Betsy evolves considerably in her riding, and I evolve considerably thanks to her scientific research. Without the practical application, the research goes nowhere, and we need to constantly question the practical application with new knowledge to go anywhere. The covered brutality, part of the equestrian world, tries to forcefully achieve what the training techniques cannot achieve. The reason is that conventional thinking reduces the horse’s part of the performance to obedience to the rider’s directive. This is arrogant and ineffective. The horse coordinates many systems that are out of reach of the rider’s control. Whatever authors believed was the result of their skill was, for a significant part, the horse’s willingness and sophisticated mental processing. Only now has science reached a level of understanding, exposing that horses have done it for centuries despite archaic and even false theories. Our authentic leadership is our knowledge, not our capacity to impose our views. Knowledge engenders intellectual modesty, allowing us to consider the horse’s reaction as a solution that might be better than anything printed in the book. This acceptance engenders respect and kindness.
Jean Luc

Pep Up Pep up When I presented Lafayette in hand for the first time, it was at the demand of a dressage group. I used the music from the movie “Barry Lyndon,” which was a very slow tempo. Lafayette was able to do it because of the long training he had with the rehabilitation from his right hind leg coffin bone fracture. As I exited the dressage ring, three dressage queens approached with polite grins on their faces. They said, “nice, but can you pep up a little bit?” They could have asked why a presented the horse at a slow tempo, or even better, how Lafayette does it, but they were locked in their beliefs, anxious to criticize anyone that did not fit in their little box. At this time, they were defined as “dressage queens.” They were the early version of actual keyboard riders. Their belief is a cult, and they must aggressively protect their faith from facts. I followed Mark Twain’s advice, “They will drag you down to their level and then beat you with experience,” I said “No” and left. I walked away with Lafayette, and an angel was there, maybe twelve years old, with long blond curled hair and blue eyes looking up. She had a piece of paper and a pen on her chess. Her mother told me, “She wants an autograph.” I said yes, of course, and I signed my name. The young girl looked at her paper very disappointed and told me, “I don’t want your name; I want the Horse’s name.” Thirty years later, she is still an Empress in my heart. Jean Luc