Overcoming Anxiety: The Power of Relationships
It has been over 12 weeks now since my accident on my young horse Revel. While I am certain that we will face future challenges together, my hope is that this might be my last post about my physical and emotional recovery from that event. Since I last wrote about my recovery, I would like to say that I have been diligent about my recovery plan, riding and spending time with him. But, as is so often the case, life seems to have intervened and much of September was “lost” to other obligations. I continued riding other horses, fox hunting with my sons. And, when I could steal some time, I continued to play with Revel on the ground. As a result, I recovered both my general ease in the saddle and my joy in being with Revel. The dark cloud of the “event” largely faded to the background in my mind.
In October I recommitted to a plan and focused on riding Revel more consistently. Many things seemed to move forward quickly and positively. In a short period of time, we had regained any lost ground in our flat work. We started working on filling holes in his training and mine. Despite all of these positive gains and developments, I continued to experience a nagging low-level anxiety while riding him that ate away at my joy and sucked up a lot of my energy. I frequently felt really tired after a ride and, while I hate to admit it, I often felt relieved to dismount. I have written numerous times about the need for consistent exposure or engagement in an activity in order to overcome anxiety. I figured that it was just a matter time and things would get better. What I didn’t realize was that I was missing a key ingredient to my recovery.
Last weekend a good friend and talented horse trainer Michael Sparling was at my farm working with a delightfully challenging mustang mare to which he has committed himself to start under saddle. I saddled up Revel and kept him company while he worked with the mare. There was time for coaching, refinement, philosophizing and quiet conversation about life, horses and relationships. Over the course of three days I must have spent over twelve hours with or on Revel. Some of it standing and watching. Some of it working. Some of it playing. Some of it grooming. At some point in time during the second day, I had the awesome realization that my anxiety was gone. That I was feeling energized and refreshed by my time on Revel and the vague and draining feelings of dread had been banished to the farthest recesses of my mind.
The easiest way to explain how and why this change happened is to focus on the sheer amount of time I spent with my horse. It would certainly fit with most treatment models for anxiety where there is an appropriate level of exposure to the anxiety provoking stimulus that lasts long enough so that the initial surge of adrenaline with the accompanying angst has time to subside. I think that this is an important part of my experience last weekend but I feel certain it was not the whole picture.
If you have ever spent any time with young children, you will likely have had the experience of watching a toddler explore his or her universe. First comes the tentative steps away from mom, then they stop, turn and look back just to make sure someone is paying attention. Reassured that mom has “got their back” they turn away again to take more steps into the unknown. This process is a clear demonstration of the role that relationships play in our ability to take risks and confidently explore our world. The more consistent and trustworthy a caregiver is, the more comfortable and confident the child is likely to be in exploring their world. You might be asking what does this have to do with a middle-aged man recovering from a riding accident. The answer is everything.
It is an essential part of human nature to rely on relationships to provide a sense of safety and security. It is also an essential part of human nature to need to feel a basic sense of safety and security in order to challenge ourselves to step outside our comfort zone. If we are overly anxious, we tend to restrict our behavior to that which is comfortable and safe. We don’t need to feel completely safe to step out and explore, just safe enough. And, just as it was when we were children, relationships are the core source of this safety and comfort. I am convinced that it was the presence of a competent and trusted colleague and friend that provided the “safe enough” context for me to take the risk to step across those boundaries I had set for myself and recover my ease and confidence on Revel. Sure, the time and activity was essential, but none of it may have ever happened without the added support of a competent and trusted friend.
So, if you find yourself challenged with lingering worry or anxiety. Or, you feel stuck, unwilling or unable to take the next obvious steps forward. Rather than beating yourself up one more time for not being brave enough, ask yourself if you have the people who you need around you that will help you feel supported and safe enough to take the next step. Maybe this is a trusted friend that helps you to feel more emotionally safe, or a trusted trainer that you believe will help you to feel physically safe. Either way, take the responsibility to surround yourself with supportive relationships and you will more easily find the courage and motivation to challenge yourself and move forward.
Recovery From Injury: A Personal Path
It’s human nature to want to make sense of our world so that we might predict or control it. We seem to have a built-in desire to know and to understand. This desire is even stronger when we’ve had a negative experience.
When a rider has experienced a fall or other riding-related injury, it’s common for people to feel a sense of trepidation getting back into the saddle. Depending on the nature of the accident and the personality and/or history of the rider, trepidation may give way to anxiety, fear or even panic. Under these conditions, we want to know how to address our fear. We want a plan. We want certainty. We want to know that everything is going to be OK if we follow the steps and do what we’re supposed to do.
If you search Amazon for books on “Overcoming Fear and Anxiety” you’ll get somewhere on the order of 650 results. In addition, there are numerous books dedicated specifically to overcoming fear of riding or fear of horses. While many of these books contain helpful information, useful techniques and pearls of wisdom, it occurred to me a long time ago that if anybody truly had “The Answer” there would be no need for the other 649 books. The harsh reality is that, no matter how much we know about overcoming fear and anxiety or how many useful techniques or methods are available to us, each individual’s road to success will be different. It will be unique to that person. Our path forward depends on a multitude of factors, including who we are as individuals, our circumstances, our motivations and goals, and our resources, to name just a few.
Two weeks ago I had a serious fall from my horse. If you missed the original post you can read about it here. In the spirit that everyone’s recovery is different, I thought I would share some of my own thoughts, reflections and choices as I return to riding. This isn’t offered as a blueprint for overcoming fear, but as a reflection on what has been important to me, as well as many of the clients I’ve helped through their fear over the years.
When I started to think about writing this blog post, I realized that there are so many different things to think about in addressing my path to recovery that it was hard to know where to start. So, the first step was to simplify and focus. I did my best to assess my starting point, identify the main questions and challenges ahead and then break them down into workable steps.
Here’s my current assessment.
Physically, while cleared to ride, I’m not yet 100 percent. My mind is clear, but the injuries to my chest, ribs and shoulder have not yet fully healed. I would say I’m at 80 percent.
Emotionally, I’m experiencing moderate anxiety about riding my young horse. Interestingly, since I don’t remember the accident, I’m experiencing far less anxiety about getting back on than I have from other accidents where I was conscious throughout the experience. I feel a degree of confidence from the fact that I’ve overcome anxiety and fear several times before when recovering from other falls and injuries. I also draw some comfort because I’m a far more skilled and knowledgeable horseman than I was 12 years ago, the time of my last serious accident. Finally, my trepidation or anxiety this time around seems localized to my young horse. The thought of getting on other horses, even ones I’ve not been riding regularly over the past year, doesn’t seem to phase me. As my physical strength returns and I have the opportunity to ride, I’ll let you know if that changes.
In my attempts to simplify and focus my plan for recovery, I’ve settled on two main priorities for myself. The first is to do my best to minimize physical risks to myself. I’m not a professional rider/trainer, I’m not in any competition for points or year-end awards, and I have a family with two young boys to support. I ride because I love horses, and my riding goals are not tied to a specific timetable or specific performance goals. I fully understand and accept that there are inherent risks in riding horses and perhaps even more in riding a young horse. I accept these risks because this is what I love to do.
However, given my other life priorities, the path I choose may appear overly conservative to some. I realize that I’m far more likely to be successful if I’m patient with myself and my progress, rather than adding a level of stress and worry by pushing forward too quickly and increasing the risks.
The second priority is to maximize the probability of success. For me, this involves setting things up in a way that I know will be best for me. It also means setting things up in a way that I think will be best for my horse. For example, I know that I do my best with support from others, both in terms of companionship and having an ear to talk through my thought process, including my personal experience and what I’m reading in my horse. My first several rides will be in good company.
I also know I’m most confident in a context or setting in which I have had a great deal of prior success. My first several rides will be in my arena at home where I would have a good chance of recreating the context in which my horse and I have experienced many good (and a few great) rides over the past year. I also know I’m at my best when I’m not rushed. My first several rides will be at a time when I have the time to take my time. This also helps me to limit the distractions of life and to be as focused and relaxed as possible. For my horse, I plan on starting from the beginning while looking for holes in my skills and in his training. I plan on taking my time to strengthen his foundation and rebuilding my trust in him, and hopefully being a more trustworthy partner for him.
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Since starting this post yesterday morning, the process has begun. I finally felt more than well enough to attempt some light riding. So, I went out last night with my young horse, my son and his mare with the simple goal of sitting astride my horse and assessing my own emotions and reactions. It was supposed to be a short and simple process ( insert knowing smile here). We started with some ground work where my horse chose to display his “athleticism” which, while admittedly impressive, only served to raise my anxiety. It only took a moment to realize that my goals for that night had changed from assessing my emotions from the back of my horse to helping my horse get a better handle on his emotions. I took the time that it took to help him get focused and connected with me. When he was settled, relaxed and connected, I took a deep breath, let it out and mounted, tested my neutral lateral flexion, backed him up, walked in a small circle and dismounted. My anxiety was not as strong as I had earlier anticipated, but I wanted to get myself to a better place before I quit. I mounted again walked in small circles and figure eights testing his responsiveness to my leg aids, and when I finally felt my adrenaline drop and I was relaxed, I dismounted and called it a night.
Today is a new day and tomorrow is yet another. I have no idea how long this is going to take. I do know that it’s going to take commitment, effort and consistency on my part. I hope to be able to report a few more steps forward by the time I write again.
Gratitude For An Insistent Loving Partner
I don’t know about you, but I grew up in an age where no one wore a helmet while riding. Sure, we had those fashionable little hunt caps we wore during shows that had all the protective qualities of Hershey’s Magic Shell (you know, the stuff that hardens when you pour it on your ice cream). But, I don’t ever remember a discussion about ASTM or SEI safety certification. Like most people, my old habits, preference and prejudices die hard. As time passed and rules changed, I did get an approved helmet for competition. Yet, to be honest I seldom wore a helmet when I didn’t “have to.”
Then, about 14 years ago, my first son was born. I remember the day that my wife came out to the arena while I was riding and she asked me, at least until our children were grown and independent, if I would promise to wear a helmet when I rode. For those that don’t know me personally, my wife is not a horsewoman. She appreciates their beauty and enjoys having them on the farm, but her connection to horses is totally through her love for me and her willingness to indulge my passion. At the time, it seemed a small price to pay for her continued support. I reluctantly agreed to to wear a helmet from that day forward.
I am embarrassed to admit my own arrogance at that point in my life. I remember thinking that wearing a helmet all the time was overkill. Sure it made sense if I was jumping cross country or riding an unfamiliar horse. But, for flat work or other quiet work with a known quantity in a ring? Seriously? But, I am a man of my word and with very few exceptions I honored my wife’s insistent request and wore a helmet whenever I rode from that day forward.
Last Friday we had a gorgeous cool, dry day. The kind that are extremely rare in Virginia in August. I had the day off work and was really excited to finally have the time to spend a full day with a young horse that I have been bringing along. There were several things I wanted to help him with that I didn’t want to rush and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. One of my agenda’s was to introduce him to “the neighborhood.” Just so you have the right image, I live on a dirt road off of a dirt road in a rural area in Virginia. My “neighborhood” is made up of a few small farms and a half a dozen houses. We started on the ground introducing him to all of those terrifying horse-eating monsters like my neighbor’s jeep, mud puddles, utility construction crews, etc. After an hour or so he appeared settled and quiet and I chose to get on. Everything went smoothly at first until we encountered a ridge of gravel at the edge of the road that had been deposited there by a recent rain. So, like everything else we started patiently working at getting brave.
I will never know what spooked him. He spun and took off at top speed. The last thing I remember is making a reasonably calm assessment of my situation. I had lost a stirrup when he spun. I was pulling on one rein with all my strength to try and turn him, but to no avail. I was considering my options. Would it be safer to try and ride it out or get off?
I woke up on the ground dazed and disoriented some time later. I would like to think I chose to get off, but I will never know. Helpful neighbors rounded up my horse and got me home. My wife got me to the emergency room. The CAT scan revealed a minor bleed on my brain which meant a night at the hospital for observation. Since then I have been on the mend looking forward to a day in the near future when my neck and shoulder aren’t sore. Yesterday I returned to my regular routine of feeding my horses and my helmet caught my eye.
As I picked it up I looked at the left side of the helmet to see the damage. I was looking at the left side because, based on all my injuries, that was the side of my body that hit the ground. I assumed that my head hit a rock or something which knocked me out. To my surprise, the left side was unblemished. The right side, however, sustained significant damage. While I will never know what really happened, I suspect that I either got stepped on or kicked in the head.
You may be wondering why I am telling this story. Maybe it is my own process of healing. One of the most powerful ways of dealing with traumatic events is to share our story. This helps us both by connecting with others and making sense of what happened so that we might avoid similar situations in the future. Maybe it is to set the stage over the next couple of weeks so that I can share my own journey as I get back in the saddle and cope with the inevitable fears and anxieties. I have long held that I would never suggest that my clients do something that I would not be willing to do myself. This is not the first time I have had the opportunity to put my sport psychology techniques to personal practical use. I certainly hope that my clients ultimately benefit from my experience.
The primary reason I tell my story today, however, is to simply say thank you to the lovely, loving woman who asked me to wear a helmet so many years ago. Without her insistence I might not be writing this or anything else today. Perhaps if you read this and you were like I was 14 years ago, you might reconsider and suffer the minor discomfort and slight inconvenience of wearing a helmet.