I've been riding for about three seasons now. After my last knee surgery, I was feeling pretty down. I promised myself if I took my rehab seriously and kept my spirits up, I would reward myself with my heart's desire--horse riding lessons. I kept my promise on all fronts, and just recently started cantering. (Well, the HORSE does all the cantering, I just stay on board.)
It's such a beautiful feeling to be on a cantering horse--exhilarating stuff! The hardest part is getting a feel for his rhythm so you can go with it. You relax and sink down into the saddle, yet grip firmly with legs. There's a lovely rocking motion, and the world goes flying by.
My instructor must be one of the most laid back people I've ever met. She is always unflappable and charming and chipper. She seems to understand that what I need right now is simply time in the saddle. Time to develop my "seat"--my sense of balance and strength. Most importantly, I need to get a sense of my whole body working WITH the horse.
Because when it seems like my horse isn't "listening" to me, the opposite is true.
I am not clear with my signals. I am not clear with my intentions.
And in the end, this is the hardest part--mastery of my OWN body so I can tell the horse clearly what I want from him.
The horse, after all, is thoroughly trained. He already knows the standard signals for a request to walk, walk faster, trot and canter. He already knows what to do.
It turns out I'M the one who needs "schoolin'". I'm the one who now sends a wild rash of mixed signals. My crop says "go faster!" while my legs clench in the wrong place and scream, "Wait! I'm slipping!" My right heel says "canter, please!" while my timing says, "I don't know what lead you're on."
This quality of learning how to have your entire body acting in concert to ask for what you want--what is it?? It's vital in martial arts, too. It's not your arm striking, or your leg hooking. It's your shoulders and hips pivoting as one unit, a wave of energy and focus traveling through your entire body to achieve its purpose.
A dancer e-mailed me recently with its name.
He says it's "grace".
It occurs to me that this quality of grace--of my entire being working seamlessly to one purpose, one goal--is what I strive for as an artist. Not one-dimensionally, of course. My technical skill is already at that stage. Working through a production issue is temporarily daunting, but not a permanent obstacle.
It's the mental and spiritual parts that need alignment. So when these all come together, united in vision and purpose, we enter that wonderful creative state called "flow". The work bubbles up and through us and out into the world, apparently seamless in nature.
It isn't, of course. Just like a dancer's performance , or a kata, or a dressage performance. It takes years of practice, study, thought and dedication to look "easy". Even then, my sensei said yesterday that a real martial artist never achieves perfection--it's a constant study, as we move into and through new challenges.
But oh, that moment when it clicks....!
And that's what the last few years have been, I realize just now. Not a drought or a fallow period. Not even a slow period.
Just a period of learning a new balance, a new "seat".
A period of my whole artistic self asking for what I want. KNOWING what I want.
And achieving, I hope, yet another, a new, state of grace.
