Real change doesn’t come in a bottle, new training techniques, new tack, or even a new horse.
Equestrianism, at its core, is not just about riding horses; it is a profound journey of self-discovery and personal growth. Every equestrian aspires to be a better rider, a better horseman, and ultimately, a better human being. The relationship between horse and rider demands not only technical skill but also essential qualities such as patience, humility, self-accountability, critical thinking, and the ability to accept mistakes—traits that define our character. Yet, the hardest part of this journey is often not mastering the horse, but mastering oneself. The true challenge lies in the internal struggle to change, to grow, and to improve as individuals. While we may often speak of our desire to become better riders, the real battle is in aligning our actions with these aspirations, not just in the saddle but in every aspect of our lives. Equestrianism, therefore, is a mirror reflecting our deepest qualities and shortcomings, urging us to evolve into better humans as we strive to become better horse people.
Horses are remarkable creatures, sensitive to the smallest changes in their environment and in the behaviour of their riders. They reflect our inner states back to us, often magnifying our emotions and intentions. In this way, they serve as mirrors, showing us the impact of external influences on our behaviour. Just as society bombards us with messages about success and happiness, we often respond to these pressures with stress, impatience, arrogance, pride, and an inability to take criticism. These negative qualities can distort not only our relationship with our horses but also our relationship with ourselves and others. When we allow these traits to dominate our actions, they create barriers to personal growth and self-awareness. We become blind to our own flaws, resistant to change, and unwilling to accept feedback, which hinders our ability to truly improve and connect on a deeper level. Confronting these shortcomings is essential for both personal development and for achieving true harmony in all aspects of life.
Many equestrians set milestones for improvement based on external events: a new riding season, the start of a competition, or the arrival of a new horse. We tell ourselves that this is the year we will become more disciplined, more patient, more skilled. However, just like in life, these moments often serve as convenient excuses rather than genuine catalysts for change. We convince ourselves that a new saddle, a new training programme, or even a new horse will magically transform us into better riders. But in reality, these external changes are just another way to delay the hard work of changing from within.
The Art of Excuses in the Equestrian World
Equestrians are not immune to the art of making excuses. When faced with the difficult task of improving our riding or deepening our bond with our horse, we often point to external factors as the reasons for our stagnation. We say that we would ride more if only the weather were better, or that we would progress faster if we had more time or a more talented horse. We blame our circumstances, our equipment, and even our horses for our inability to improve. These excuses become a cloak, hiding the real issue: our own resistance to change.
Consider the example of an equestrian who aspires to develop a deeper bond and better communication with their horse. They may attend clinics, buy the latest training tools, and spend hours researching techniques. However, when it comes time to implement these practices, they find reasons to stick to familiar routines, avoid challenging situations, or only work on what’s comfortable. They might tell themselves that their horse isn’t ready, that they need more time, or that they’ll start fresh next week. Each excuse seems valid at the moment, but over time, they add up to a pattern of stagnation. The problem isn’t the horse or the techniques; it’s the resistance to stepping out of their comfort zone and embracing the discomfort and discipline necessary for genuine progress.
The Reality of True Change in Equestrianism
Real change in equestrianism, as in life, doesn’t happen because of a new piece of tack or a change in routine. It comes from a deep, internal consciousness that we are not content with our current state as riders or as human beings. This dissatisfaction isn’t a fleeting feeling; it’s a persistent awareness that our relationship with our horse, and with ourselves, could be more, that we could be more. True change begins when this awareness becomes the driving force behind our actions, pushing us to create a newer and better version of ourselves every day, both in and out of the saddle.
Take, for example, an equestrian who decides to improve their communication with their horse. They might have tried different bits, training aids, or techniques, each time hoping for better results. The real change comes not when they simply switch equipment, but when they confront the underlying reasons for the communication breakdown. It could be a lack of patience, a tendency to rush, or a failure to truly listen to the horse. When they address these root causes with a genuine desire to improve their relationship, the excuses fall away, and real progress can be made.
This kind of deep, internal change is not easy. It requires a level of honesty with oneself that can be uncomfortable. It demands daily motivation and persistence, a constant effort to break old patterns and form new ones. The equestrian world, with all its distractions and dependencies, often plagues this process. We are bombarded with advertisements promising quick fixes and shortcuts to success, but these are just more excuses in disguise. Real change doesn’t come in a bottle or a new training technique; it comes from within, and it’s a daily struggle.
In the world of equestrianism, as in life, the hardest part of becoming a better rider is becoming a better person by overcoming the resistance to change from within. We can invest in all the external improvements we want, but without a deep, internal commitment to transformation, these efforts will come and go without making a lasting impact.
True equestrianism requires us to look beyond the surface, to confront our own resistance, and to commit to the hard work of becoming the best version of ourselves, for the sake of our horses and ourselves. It’s not easy, but the rewards—inner peace, a deeper bond with our horses, and a life aligned with our true values—are worth every ounce of effort.
In the end, if horses do not make us reflect upon our own shortcomings and inspire us to change, then we have missed the true essence of equestrianism.
