One year ago I was writing about a major setback that I experienced with Ngugi. For reasons still unclear, she would completely freeze up and not want to move forward–sometimes even refusing to take a step away from the mounting block. It was the most frustrating few weeks of training because it was not clear to me whether it was a physical or mental shutdown. Here’s the link back to last winter’s “freeze” where I wrote

Legs that once moved freely and with agility now stand thick and clamped in the sand.

I wish that I had taken video of those days so that I could juxtapose it with the video here that trainer Laura recorded a few weeks ago. I think it might be unbelievable to some that she is the same horse.
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And yet, I find myself stumbling over what to write these days. I haven’t posted any updates this month, and I’ll admit that I’m typing without direction, without purpose. I’m typing to update, but I don’t feel compelled to write. (Although, there is a HUGE part of me that wants to critique all the faults in my riding in the above video–like my low hands, lack of release, heavy seat, etc., etc.). I wonder why it’s easier for me to blog when things are going wrong? Is it because I need the exercise of blogging more when there’s a problem to solve? I do believe in “writing to learn” and “writing for self-discovery,” so I suppose it does make sense that if there isn’t an emergency in our partnership as horse and rider for me to analyze, my drive isn’t really there.

So I leave my readers with a few questions… Are you more compelled to write when things are falling apart? Does the act of blogging help you feel as though you are tidying up what may have unraveled for you and your partner in the ring? If so, why is this? And how do we get more comfortable and effective at blogging when things are calm and within our control?