Reprogram your brain to fix your riding issues

Neuro-linguistic Programming For Dummies Cheat Sheet - For Dummies

If you haven't heard of NLP, you really aren't on top of the whole brain-education game.  The cheat sheet linked above will be very helpful in getting you started.  The big work, however, is all on you.

Neuro-Linguistic Programming is not a new concept, but it's one worthy of revisiting as we wend our way through the curly brain hairs that are keeping you from being the best horseman you can be, and in turn keeping your horse from being as happy as he can be.  The basic theory is that if you can identify the ideas you have that are standing in your way--that includes all sorts of belief systems about your own place in the world and the way your horse thinks--and you can identify new ways of thinking that will remove the blockages you're causing, you can change the way your brain handles experiences.

How is this different from any of the other processes I've discussed lately?  Honestly, it's not.  Whether you are meditating your way to success or linking brains with your horse or reprogramming your brain linguistically (using language), you are changing the story you tell yourself and the world about who you are.

Don't you just feel like this some days?  Me too!

Starting at the top of the cheat sheet, you'll need to alter your overall mental state to clear away some of the emotional overlay that's preventing you from thinking clearly.  There are a lot of ways to accomplish this, and the chart lists a few.  The bottom line is that any change to your environment--the parts of it that you control and even the ones you don't, like the atmosphere at your place of employment--will change your mood.  If you plan it right, the change will be for the better.  Rendering yourself more miserable would surely be a change, but you might as well aim to come through this more satisfied rather than less.  If you hate heavy metal music, for example, filling your space with it would not be a positive change and might lead to heightened anxiety in you and fear in your co-workers.  Something as small as changing the way the blinds in your bedroom are turned can set the tone for your whole day.  If you can find something that will lighten your mood, you're off to a rousing start.

Changing personal beliefs is a little harder and requires serious soul-searching.  If you've been a long-standing proponent of a particular style of horsemanship, and employing it is causing you more stress and frustration than it's alleviating, and your horse has stopped responding and is standing glaring at you from the other side of the round pen, you might find that that belief is something that needs to be revisited.  If you're stubbornly clinging to that belief and silently harrumphing at my suggestion that it needs to be changed, think of another belief (Santa comes to mind) that you once held firmly and have since abandoned.  Not everything you believe at any given moment is carved in mental stone.  Beliefs are just that.  They're not necessarily even based in reality.  Do a reality check, and see if you can pinpoint one idea that's not working for you. Then see if there isn't a similarity between that past, long-abandoned belief and the one standing in your way now.  My deadliest belief and the one that most resembled parts of my abandoned thoughts about "respect" was the meme that one must never "let the horse win" or one risks letting the horse take over one's life.  Boy! Was that some wrong-headed interpretation of winning vs losing!  As soon as I replaced the Bad Thought with the new one, that horses don't lie and they only behave like horses (much to our human chagrin), the pieces began to fall into place.  It's a work in progress, but at least it's no longer a work in regression.

Staying on track with your proposed change is tough.  We tend toward mental meandering, and it's very easy to wind up back on the old path without noticing that we've veered.  Making a chart is helpful.  Anything you concretize has a better chance of sticking with you than the more loosely constructed of your plans.  Remember the time you were going to change how you related to your least-favorite relative?  Remember how that worked out?  I rest my case.  Make notes.

Much better atmosphere!

Checking both the conscious and unconscious (or subconscious) levels of your behavior and thought processes really does require a certain amount of introspection.  Meditation helps cut to the chase.  You don't have to become a Yoga Master, but the ability to quiet your conscious thoughts so you can hear the more creative side of your brain will make the process easier and faster.  If you continually return to that loud voice yelling "this is just wrong" in your mental ear, you may find yourself stuck in an endless circuit going nowhere.

The rest of the linked chart will give you guidelines for relieving fear and becoming more flexible in your thinking.  We can all use a little more flexibility.  Think of the most stubborn, least flexible person in your environment and remember that image whenever you start to dig in your mental heels and lose the flow you're aiming to create.  Do you want to be that person?  I didn't think so.

All the changes you are about to make should lead to a better relationship with yourself and with your horse (and anyone else in your immediate vicinity), so have no fear that this tinkering will fall into the "naive intervention" category.  The goal is to become less naive, more tuned in to yourself and the world, ferret out the erroneous drek that's interfering, and not to monkey with what's already working fine on its own.

Let the reprogramming begin!

Shortcut to Brilliance?

Learn Anything in 20 Hours with This Four Step Method

No, I lied.  There are no shortcuts to brilliance.  There are ample shortcuts, however, that can stimulate forward movement in our learning experiences.  I haven't read Josh Kaufman's book, The First 20 Hours, but I will.  There's nothing too off-center when it comes to learning theory and the advancement of personal knowledge.  This isn't at all off-center.  Kaufman, having read that it takes 10,000 hours to master a new activity, was daunted by the prospect of 5 full years of focused learning.  He chose to find a better way.  I spent my life finding ways to help students learn faster, better, more easily, and without bloodshed.  It's a worthy goal.

The key to Kaufman's plan (and the one I discovered worked best in almost every situation) is TASK ANALYSIS.  If you're already tired of hearing me ramble on about this, watch the video and listen to Kaufman do it.  You need to learn this if you're ever going to do any learning or teaching (training) with any level of success.

[Photo courtesy of my daughter, the lovely Jessica Culnan]
Kaitlin's process will begin with her growing taller than the cello.

Task Analysis involves truly looking at the end result first.  Really looking at it and figuring out what it is you want to do.  He calls it "deconstructing the skill".  Same difference.  If you can see clearly the end result and take it apart, you can see some of the steps leading to it that you'll need to master in order to move forward.  Each of those will also required "deconstruction" (analysis) to their smallest components.  At each step, you'll recognize your current level of mastery and begin to build from there.

If you want to learn to ride, what does riding look like?  What is involved with the idiocy of throwing your feeble humanness on top of a not-at-all feeble monster of a critter with a mind of its own?  Well, obviously you need to be able to climb well enough to get there, right?  That takes at least a modicum of lower body strength.  What is like that in your experience?  Climbing stairs comes to mind.  So does riding a bike (which horseback riding is "just like" according to many instructors).  Can you do those?  If not, what do you have to do to get to those skills?  Walking, knee bends, maybe some core exercises like ab crunches would probably do the trick.

That's simplistic, but I'm going to stay here in Simpleville for a bit.  How do you know if you're mastering the stepping-stone skills?  Can you tell whether the ab crunches are working?  Sure!  Do you look and feel stronger through that area of your body?  BINGO!

Time passes, and now you can walk, climb, sit upright, and possibly balance well enough not to fall off when the animal starts moving.  Is that all there is to riding?  No way.  So you watch videos of people doing it, and you analyze them for the minor details.  Where is the rider's leg and what is it doing?  Where are his hands?  How is his back moving?  Can you come up with ways to emulate those without being on a horse?  Find a nice core ball, an upholstered chair arm, a flight of stairs, and you're in business.

Not exactly what I was picturing when I did the analysis, but
there are steps I can take to Make It So.

It's not hard to do a task analysis, as you can see.  Kaufman takes it one step further and says you need to practice each step for 20 hours.  That's a good idea.  In the simple case of getting on a horse's back, you probably already have many of the steps mastered and aren't aware of them.  So what you might need to do 20 hours' work on is actually getting on and off a horse.  That's where a good beginner instructor comes in and I walk out.  You'll need eyes on the ground to tell you when you're messing up and in danger of being on the ground with those eyes.

All of this is easily applicable to higher levels of riding and to training your horse.  Figure out what you want it to look like (not physically...you're not going to analyze your 14.3hh Pintabian into a Dutch Warmblood or yourself into Olympic Village) and what it would take to get there.  Figure out which skills and abilities your horse has and which it needs work on.  Start from step one and move forward, making sure not to skip the quizzes and tests along the way that check your progress, and if you give your effort an "F", be sure to redo that part of the course.  No cheating!

The key, however, harking back to last week's post, is ABILITY.  You and your horse have some, not all, of the ability you would like to apply to this project.  Be honest in your assessment and don't get angry if one or the other of you hits a wall.  Do what you can; enjoy what you do; move forward until you can't go any further, then move sideways.  Sideways is good.  Think of the process as a maze.  Sometimes one of those side passages will lead to an even bigger forward movement.  Nothing is ever wasted except the energy you put into whining and complaining and wishing.

Excuses 101: Why You Need That New Horse

Novelty and the Brain: Why New Things Make Us Feel So Good


Belle Beth Cooper (like her on Facebook) does a wonderful job of explaining why "Oooo..!  Shiny!" is so much a part of our functioning that we need to make fun of it to make it less painful.  We are all suffering to some degree with Attention Deficit Disorder in that we are quite capable of being equally enthralled by the new USB drive we just bought to backup all our photos as we are by the packaging it came in.  That's especially true if said packaging is unique in any way, like shaped like a frog or requiring tools to open.  I borrowed the illustration from her article because, well, it made me look twice, thus proving her point.

That this applies to horsemen is a no-brainer.  Check my tack room:

Yes, there's only one of me, and that's only one side of the room.
So sue me!

If like most of us you have things stashed away that you bought on a whim after reading an article, taking a lesson, or visiting a tack store, then you are a fellow traveler.  On the other side of this room is a wall hung with saddles, at least two for each of the four horses I'm currently riding and a couple for no reason other than "But if I sell it I'll just want to buy another one".  It's a painful affliction, affecting not only reasoning ability but the ability to put food on the table and shop for clothing at venues other than Wal Mart.

Cooper's research indicated that the distraction needed to fall into the category of completely unique stimuli in order for the SN/VTA (see the illustration in the article) to be enthralled, but I wonder how that result might change if the subjects were horse people who've been so completely indoctrinated in the nuances of novelty between, for instance, shapes of mouthpieces in snaffle bits or knee rolls in jumping saddles.  I have no statistical proof, but I think it is possible to train the brain to be so discerning that "His left hoof angle is .03 degrees off!" is a statement that actually has been made and worried about and obsessed over and screamed into the ear of a long-suffering farrier.

What this has to do with my current theme of mindfulness and using our innate ability to help us in our interactions with our horses is merely that it offers a physiological excuse for our periodic inability to quiet our minds and let our brains take over.  It's our brain's fault!  Like the RTPJ, the SN/VTA region is pre-programmed.  It has a job to do, and that job is to notice when a unique stimulus is passing through our neighborhood and glom onto it like horse hair on corduroy.  Is is worth fighting our natures to gain a more enlightened approach?  Of course it is.  The point here is that we must not waste energy hating ourselves for our brain structure.  We need to be kind, understand that working past the built-ins is a journey, not an end, and let ourselves screw up with abandon as necessary.

We also need to avoid trying to fit every horse into a mold that has no basis in the reality of that particular animal.  We notice the differences between our current horse and our last one because we're programmed to do so.  When we then try to "correct" those differences, misery happens on both sides of the saddle.  Noticing is excellent.   Being unable to accept and adapt is not.  I would be much happier to see FT's ("Famous Trainers") use their forums in the pages of the horse mags to publish examples of different types of horses and not critique them as if there is only one perfect model to which all others must aspire.  Helping horsemen learn to adapt to the horses they work with would be more valuable.

But we also need to always come back to the task at hand, no matter how long the side trip might be.  There's a good place waiting down the road for us to visit, and we will get there, briefly, if we work at it.

Intro to Meditation

I promised in the last post to offer some instruction for beginners who aren't quite sure how to go about quieting their minds to allow their brains to breath.  What follows is a simple relaxation technique with a huge payoff.

1.  Lie down or sit comfortably with both feet on the floor.  Lights off or dim will help tremendously.  Close your eyes.  Shut off the phone.  Yes, really.

2.  Take five deep breaths, filling your lower lungs first and then your entire lungs.  Hold each for a count of five, then release in the same order, breathing out from the bottom first.  Let your belly swell as you breath in.  It's okay.  No one is watching.

3.  Begin with your toes.  Tighten them all as much as you can, hold for a few seconds, then release.  Notice your toes.

4.  Tighten your calf muscles, hold for a few seconds, then release.  Notice your calves.

5.  Repeat with your knees, thighs, hips, pelvis, abdomen.  Notice all of those parts (without judging, just awareness).

6.  Move to your fingers and repeat the process there, with your forearms, upper arms, shoulders.

7.  Move your awareness to your neck, head, scalp.  Repeat the process.  Move to your eyes, lips, chin, forehead.

8.  Breathe deeply again five times.  By this point you should be very relaxed.  If you're not, just enjoy whatever relaxation you have managed to achieve and go on about your day.  Try again tomorrow.  Don't judge yourself.  You're going to have to figure this out as you go along.

Now, when I did this with my classes, I followed it with guided imagery that left them feeling as if they were amazing students.  It worked.  If you want to follow through, you might record for yourself a guided meditation about your connection to your horse.  Better yet, just achieve this meditative state repeatedly until it becomes second nature and you can quiet your mind on command.  Then go mess with your horse.  It will be a different experience.

We'll revisit this in the next post.  You have your assignment.

Mind Reading and Mindfulness

The TED Talk above is fascinating on so many levels.  But it is included here for two simple reasons:

1. It pinpoints for the psych geeks among us the RTPJ (Right Temporal-Parietal Junction) in the brain, which is charged with the job of thinking about other people's thoughts.  It's totally awesome to realize that we don't purposely devote our waking hours to wondering who's unfriended us on Facebook today, but instead are hardwired to do just that.

2.  It's very cool to watch the little kids change their judgments as they mature and to wonder how many of us have failed to develop entirely.  I have a list of names, but I'll just keep that to myself.

We humans spend a great deal of time assessing, analyzing, and trying to change other people's thought processes.  It's stock-in-trade for teachers and other leaders, of course, but we all do it no matter our station in life.  Because we are herd animals (yes, just like horses, only meaner), we like for our social circle to consist of people who think the way we do.  It's just easier that way.  No wondering who's likely to attack us in the night or talk smack about us around the cave.  No worrying that our food stash is being raided while we're away at a TED Talk.  We like to be secure in our sense of belonging, and that means making everyone as much the same as possible.

If the last Presidential election proved anything, it's that this is fruitless labor.

Where do mind-reading and mindfulness intersect?  They are two sides of the coin.  While we are firmly embroiled in our efforts to make everyone think the way we do (and therefore be as "right" as we are), we are anything but mindful.  Here's where I will try to change the way you think.

When I say to fellow horsemen that they need to approach their horses and their interactions with them in a mindful way, I note a distinct shift as far from mindfulness as it's possible to get instantaneously.  What I get is a rider who is completely distracted by her efforts to note in painful detail everything she and her mount are doing, thinking, feeling, and imagining.  Those brain cells are working so hard, the odor of frying grey matter is nearly overwhelming.  Yelling, "Stop thinking so hard!" results in stunned glances and sputtering...and that's just the horse.

Mindfulness is, in reality, an empty mind.  Not an empty brain, mind you (yes, that's a pun), but an empty, quiet "mind", that actively engaged piece of our being that no one quite understands but we all kind of "get" when someone tells us to clear our minds.  To paraphrase Deepak Chopra, we empower our brains when we turn off our minds.  It's only when we're not thinking about what we're doing and not even thinking about what we're thinking that we unencumber ourselves enough to allow us to sense with that niggling little something, the name of which cannot be fathomed, what is really going on.  That's when we read minds the best.

How do we begin to become mindful? Well, I can assure you that learning how to meditate while on horseback is not a good plan.  Turning off the conscious to access the subconscious needs to be practiced in advance, and self-hypnosis (otherwise known as meditation) is a fine place to start.  Next post I'll give specific instructions for a basic, beginner's approach to emptying the mind and filling the space left with incoming data that we mostly miss because of all the static we're experiencing.  For those who have already tried meditation, you can skip the next post and go to your Special Place before your next ride.  Quiet your mind so that your brain can function and the small places that feel without thinking can really touch what is so special about the connection between horse and human.

It's at that moment, when you are truly devoid of self-talk and efforts to assess and control that you can meet your horse on his turf.  When you do, you will feel a shock of recognition and wonder why it took you so long to get to that place.  You're gonna love it, I promise.  You will never think like a horse or be able to stream Fuzzbutt's consciousness, but you can attain a certain level of relationship to the space around you that is as close to being in your horse's head as you'd like without starting to flinch every time a squirrel rattles a leaf nearby.  That would be off-putting for your co-workers, so we'll just stick to almost and be happy.

Namaste

Making brain waves with your horse

Thinking Horsemen, rejoice!  You are not imagining that your horse responds to your mood and your emotional levels.  His reaction is real, as is yours to him.  But why and how and who cares anyway?

In the continuing discussion of Brain v Mind, I am taking the theory one step further and positing that if my mind controls my brain, then odds are in favor of my horse's mind controlling his brain as well.  I'm not going to venture into the "what in hell, then, is going on in the cockatoo's mind that's causing his brain to signal that he needs to shriek like a banshee while I'm trying to type?".  I don't know the answer to that and possibly never will.  Horses are easier, so I'll pretend to be knowledgeable about their mind/brain dichotomy.

"Can we discuss this?"

Last week I suggested that if you are riding in fear (or doing anything else with an overlay of mind issues), your mind--your "self"--is allowing unresolved problems to trigger responses in your brain that, in turn, trigger autonomic nervous system responses along the lines of massive dumpings of adrenaline into your blood stream, raising of blood pressure, dilating of pupils (making Fuzzbutt look far darker and more menacing than he actually is), humming of show tunes, and so on.  I suggested that the over- or inappropriate reactions could be quelled if you took a moment to recognize the voice of your mind and tell it kindly to step off while you realistically assess the situation.  Quiet the big voice of your mind so that the little one can be heard and felt by the brain.  I reference the intriguing book, Blink: the Power of Thinking Without Thinking, by Malcolm Gladwell.  There is a lot to be learned yet about how the mind makes snap decisions and what intuition really consists of, but for now the idea that our minds have a better sense of the world in quiet moments than in frantic ones seems workable.

So, back to the horse, it seems logical that if our minds talk sometimes overly loudly to our brains, thus causing out-of-proportion reactions in our bodies, the horse has a similar structure to his mental functioning.  That certainly explains why a squirrel close up isn't at all frightening in the pasture while one rustling a few leaves in a tree along the trail is horrifying and worthy of a massive, wild-eyed, sit 'n spin.  He is most likely already on edge as he's in an unfamiliar setting that sets his nerves jangling with possible threats and his is loud mind voice is screaming "Predator!" with such conviction that his quiet, sane mind can't be heard when it whispers, "It's a friggin' squirrel, you wing nut!"

When I was learning about horses back in the dark, pre-Internet ages, I was told repeatedly never to pat or fuss over a misbehaving horse because the attention would only cement the bad behavior.  That would lead to many trials of retraining and relearning new responses.  As time has passed, however, calmer voices have spoken and pointed out that it's imperative to know the reason for the reaction at hand, both in the horse and in ourselves.  I've seen the benefits of this shift for myself with my own horses.  The horse become sulky and sullen and wants to quit working every time you reach a particular point in your riding regimen.  Do you assume it's something he's doing just to spoil your day?  Do you call him lazy?  Do you beat him?  Force him?  Make him see your superior ability to analyze situations?

I would suggest that a better route would be to first determine what role you're playing in his reaction.  Is your loud mind screaming at your brain that there's something amiss?  Did you notice a subtle slowing of Fuzzbutt's reaction time as you made the third pass at the oxer?  Did your loud mind scream at your brain, Kick him before he stops!  Did you do that?  Did your muscles tighten and your heart rate increase?  Did he notice?

If the answer to those questions is yes, then perhaps you cued him to become balky.  Maybe he knows you're going to kick him right about where that dark spot in the ring footing is, and he's become reactive because he hates being kicked.  Maybe the first time he balked it was because he had an itch or was a little sore or just needed a breather.  Did that accidentally trigger a series of events that got out of control?

Did you check in with your horse?  Did you try quieting his screaming mind by changing up the routine, giving him a break, talking to him, petting him, or otherwise distracting him from whatever is bothering him?  If you did, did you take the time to notice whether he quieted and calmed and changed his intentions?  If not, why not?  Do you care?

Thinking Horsemen of the World, the challenge is afoot!  Find a way to put your quiet mind and his into harmony.  It can't hurt, and it might be a step toward enlightened riding.

Where your mind takes you

This week's required reading is Super Brain by Deepak Chopra and Rudolph Tanzi.  I'll wait while you order a copy.....

Zip and Cliff will read to you while you wait for your copy to arrive.

Unlocking the secret of mind-over-matter has been a quest that has engaged humans for the entirety of our existence on this planet, no matter how long you believe that to be.  We are desperate to figure out what makes us tick, mostly, I suspect, so that we can prove that each of us ticks better than someone standing on the other side of the room.  That's how we humans roll.

The book is subtitled:

Unleashing the Explosive Power of Your Mind to Maximize Health, Happiness, and Spiritual Well-Being

Who wouldn't want to unleash something explosive in his or her mind?  And if the explosion brought with it any one of the above-named improvements, what a bonus that would be!  This book may not have all the answers, but it certainly holds sufficient wisdom and research-based context to keep anyone busy analyzing the details of an otherwise unexamined brain.

The biggest takeaway for me turned out to be a line I heard repeated the same night in a movie trailer:  "Fear is a choice.  Danger is real."  Whoa!  

So basically, it seems that we, as I used to teach my students (teachers don't learn as easily as students, obviously), make decisions every second of every minute of every day of our lives.  We decide to eat, drink, walk, sleep, frown, smile, hate, love, and on...and on....  Everything we do beyond the unfettered functioning of the autonomic nervous system (heart beating, lungs taking in air, liver functioning, etc) is a conscious or semi-conscious decision on our part.  Our brain and our mind are not one and the same. 

Who knew?

I'm not going to try to rehash the brilliance of these two authors in my feeble way.  I am, however, going to put on the table the idea that the brain functions as a minion to the mind.  The mind (call it whatever you want including the "self") is the controller, the joystick as it were, that gives legs to the actions of the brain.  The brain recognizes things we see, processes our senses, gives us the ability to walk upright, and keeps the machine operating.  The mind picks the trendy shoes we walk in and makes value judgments about the DQ whose pampered equine is gathering steam in the stall next to Fuzzbutt's.

The mind decides to be afraid.  Do the math, carry the one, and it's apparent that the mind can also decide not to be afraid.  It can decide to be sad, or it can decide not to be sad.  It can decide to put aside all the overlaying crapola we've absorbed and cling to and just be aware of reality.  What a concept!

I know I've felt this split on those days when, after a long layoff, I've pondered just how hairy Zip's emotional trigger might be and whether or not there's danger lurking in those rolling eyes.  Most times, I've actually, consciously made the decision to not be afraid.  Looked at objectively, it's generally possible for any scenario to be taken down to its most real level and assessed accordingly, and horses are certainly real. When we stop laying our own emotional stuff on their behaviors and we recognize that horses don't misbehave, they only behave, we have a clue.  And if we also recognize that horses, like very young humans, are very primary-process ("I", "me", "mine", "give it to me!", "cookie?") and far more transparent than we are, we can more aptly judge the reality of the danger vs fear dichotomy we're experiencing in the moment.  

Give yourself credit (a little, at least) for knowing your own horse.  You know what it means when he gives you that look.  You know instinctively what the ears, eyes, nostrils, tail, and breathing pattern of your equine buddy mean.  But many of us will overlook our own intuitive understanding and apply decades of our own silliness before adding that big dose of fear to the equation.  

What if you didn't?  What if next time you just take what Fuzzbutt is telling you at face value?  What if you leave him alone when he's actually signalling danger, and what if you set aside your mind-made fear and just hop aboard if he's not?  What if?

This came up when I discussed (that's how I think of my diatribes, despite there being no one talking back to me) Michael Johnson's Healing Shine.  His big  Ah-HA!  moment arrived at the behest of a Native American mentor who pointed out very nicely that Michael was Shine's biggest problem.  I'm thinking that maybe our minds are our biggest problem, and we have a bad habit of spreading that around.  

Think on, Fearless Reader!  And peel off the layers between your brain and reality.  It might be a whole new world you're looking at.

What Hormesis Means to Me

Back in the Day (that would be the day before we discovered the Intertubes and immersed ourselves in strange bits of misinformation), there existed upon the land the interesting practice of exposing people to low doses of radiation and/or poison in order to make them immune to damage from higher doses.  This "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" approach to life went out of fashion when doctors set up web sites warning against all sorts of exposure to the natural world (and the unnatural, of course, as well).  In the end, we have very little hormesis left and a whole lot of fragility.  Allergies of all sorts are a plague upon us, and so is the severe damage that comes from not having much experience with, say, gravity prior to jumping off the garage roof.

Recently I found myself with a backlog of unread magazines, and I spent an afternoon skimming articles so that I could get rid of the teetering stack on Recycling Day.  By the end of the day, I'd been taught that pretty much everything I knew was wrong (one of my favorite Firesign Theater albums, by the way), and that I've spent my life endangering myself and my child and everyone else over whom I've held any sway in any way.  

Dillon discovering horse snot...and not an antiseptic wipe to be seen

For instance, when my poor child was a-growing, there were no restrictions on feeding nuts, shellfish, dairy products, Elmer's Glue, or what-have-you to small fry.  Keeping them from eating paint was certainly recommended, but beyond that it was pretty much a "whatever they're willing to eat" kind of situation.  Ditto exposure to potential allergens in their surroundings.  I have a great shot of my newborn baby girl suckling at the collie's nose.  She was handling worms on her fish hook (presumably licking her hands clean afterward) by the time she was five, and had been coated in toxic substances at the horse barns where we boarded by the time she was ten.  Her only allergic reaction was to my special recipe for liver and onions, and that's assuming that shoving the plate across the table constitutes an allergic reaction.

More recently, my horses have been Hormese'd (yeah, I made that word up) to a fine turn.  There are many research articles suggesting that I should probably be pilloried for not putting fly sheets or little yellow repellent tags on my horses during the summer and for allowing them to eat pasture grass without having a specialist come to assess the weeds that grow there.  I split the difference with feed-through bug repellents that prevent larval development, even though in doing so I may well be setting the ecology of my little ecosphere back a thousand years. And I keep an eye out for colic and other negative reactions to whatever they've found to eat.  So far (knock wood or something) I've not had a major problem in 16 years.  Sure, Pokey had "pasture heaves", allergic to 22 plants in her environment.  But she was alone in her misery.  And the plants included such goodies as cottonwood trees, of which we have none so she certainly didn't sensitize herself by gnoshing the leaves or bark thereof.  

At Dakota's request, I don't do this anymore.

Perhaps the best signal that we are about to return to extolling the virtues of hormesis instead of fragilizing ourselves and our animals is the penchant for "barefoot" trimming for as many horses as can tolerate it.  I'm not a bandwagon type, and I have had two horses that had to be shod 12 months of the year due to structural defects that rendered their feet overly sensitive to the abuse of stuff like walking around.  But where possible, I've left the others to their own devices, and they've adjusted perfectly.  I hedge by using boots if we're headed out into the woods over rocks and roots.  That's on the days I remember to put their boots on, of course.  Sometimes I don't remember to put my own boots on, so it's certainly not a guarantee.  

Harking back to my last few posts, regular readers (who I love) can probably guess that this is still about the whole randomness fascination I've been flagellating of late.  It's about not being able to really know that what we're doing to/for ourselves, our loved ones, and our animals is helping more than it's hurting.  If I dress Dakota up for a summer's day as if I expect an invasion of aliens and expect to use him as a scarealien in the pasture, who's to say that the welts on his butt are from the fly sheet rubbing the hair the wrong way or from biting insects that got under the sheet?  They could be a reaction to something he ate.  Too many variables.  When I hung fly catcher bags on fence posts all around the farm and found them filled with carcasses (that's 22,000 per bag) weekly, I thought, "Wow!  We really have a fly problem, and it's a good thing I invested in these nasty, smelly solutions!"  Then one day someone said something that made me take pause and think, "Wow!  I've been drawing flies from farms all over the neighborhood!  I wonder what would happen if I stopped doing that."  Yeah.  Almost no flies.  Iatrogenics at work:  the cure made an almost non-existent problem sooooo much worse.  

Hormesis is only a theory, and I'm pretty sure that pumping Zip, my curious problem child who is always most likely to eat a can of creosote or chew up something that is clearly labeled not for consumption, full of his toxin du jour will not make him immune as much as it might kill him or destroy some of his basic operating system (OSZip.01).  But I do believe that sticking to the natural path, letting horses and humans encounter natural stressors, survive them (hopefully) intact, and move forward stronger physically and mentally is a better approach than attempting to foresee every random possibility and engage in frantic preemptive measures whose outcomes can't be predicted with any certainty.  

That's my story, and I'm sticking to it until I hear a better one.