My Apprenticeship with Sylvia Loch, part 2

For part 1, see entry from June 2012                                                  www.lisascaglionedressage.com

The Spiral of Learning

     I traveled to Scotland alone this time. Sylvia had a newly renovated apartment for rent at Eden Hall which I would stay in. It had lovely views from the large sitting room overlooking the hillside toward the River Tweed. The kitchen was fully equipped and I planned to save money by eating in. I thought I would spend my free time reading and walking the picturesque hills behind Eden Hall, but was a bit concerned I’d feel somewhat alienated in a foreign country by myself. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
     My first day there Sylvia dropped me off in Kelso so I could watch the Borders Festival of the Horse, event trials on the grounds of Floors Castle. We were to meet up there in the afternoon. I observed with interest the jumping and dressage, but actually had the most fascinating time once Sylvia arrived when we went together into the sponsors tent and met two of Sylvia’s friends, both veterans from WWII and former Cavalry officers. These two very lively gentlemen first insisted on seating me in front of the best view, then procured for me the wine of my choice and proceeded to dazzle me with stories about the good old days, when horsemen were horsemen. They lamented the heaviness of today’s competition horses, commenting with wonder why anyone would willingly train a horse to be so heavy in the hand. They explained that in ‘their day’ (when horses were not yet bred to be super athletes) an officer’s life might be dependent on his horse; his horse must be responsive, light and handy, and each officer trained his own horse. In between the two world wars when Cavalry officers were the only competitors in equestrian events, these men competed in the most varied trials - dressage, steeple chasing, show jumping and even racing. They rode the same mounts for various events, showing the versatility of their horse’s training, as well as their own skill. They wistfully shared that something had been lost in the equestrian arts, and I felt within myself a mournful recognition that once these men were gone, even the memory of it would vanish forever.
    The following day I began my lessons. I was scheduled to take two back to back lessons - one on Sylvia’s schoolmaster Prazer, a 15 yo Lusitano stallion whom I had ridden on my last trip, and one on a 17 h. Irish Draught gelding named Boomer, who was primarily hacked by his owner. Sylvia’s teaching style is very sympathetic and encouraging. She instructs everyone from the most advanced student of dressage to pony clubbers trying to improve basic skills (if they bring their own horse). She explains with passion and patience both the how to and the why of whatever is being worked on and will exclaim with encouragement at the smallest improvement.  This time however, was different. As she explained it, she wanted people to see me  ride and to know I was a classical rider. She was picky about every detail of my position, and watched the horses intently for feedback from them on the correctness of my aids. Sylvia seemed a bit apologetic for being such a taskmaster on my first day, but this is exactly what I had come for. After all, hadn’t I felt both awe and envy before the two Cavalry officers the day before? Surely they didn’t realize such mastery through focusing on what their horse needed to ‘do’ rather than on what they first must accomplish within themselves?  
     My next lesson on Prazer, Sylvia asked me to ride with all four reins of the double bridle in one hand. In order to do this, one must ride primarily with the seat, with the rein aids reduced to a mere squeeze of a finger or a slight turn of the wrist. I actually found it much easier to ride this day - riding circles, serpentines, turns on the haunches - all fairly smooth and accurate. The point of the exercise had worked - I did know how to use my seat, now I needed to focus on doing so. Sylvia asked me to visualize gravity carrying down from my core over the top of my thighs and knees to the balls of my feet. This image helped me to deepen my seat and use it more effectively, particularly as we worked on collected exercises with Prazer. Prazer is the consummate gentleman. He will try with all earnestness to discern what is being asked of him, but is so sensitive to the aids, he may end up doing levade when you thought you were asking for Passage!
     With Boomer, the main focus during our lessons was to help him step under himself with energetic hind legs, so he could learn not to travel so much on his forehand. This seemed to improve quite a bit from lesson to lesson, and Sylvia was always pleased to see at the end of each ride that Boomer had quite a bit of foam on his lips from a happy and relaxed mouth. During my time there, I introduced Boomer to basic lateral work and counter canter, which I found he was more than willing to try. I was told that at one time he had a bad attitude about being ridden. He must have come a long way since then, because I found him accommodating and easy going, as long as you showed him some appreciation for his good will.
     When I wasn’t taking lessons, I spent a good part of the day reading. Sylvia has a vast library of literature from the oldest treatises to modern titles, with many books that are out of print. I spent hours every day reading and taking notes, starting with the out of print books and making a reading list of others so I could purchase them later. Sylvia also asked me to read the draft of the new book she was writing on balance and the aids, and requested I comment in the margins. I was grateful for the privilege and initially surprised that someone so knowledgeable was interested in my opinion. Having come to know her a bit, I later realized why she was so keen on my input - she wanted the book to be as beneficial to her readers as possible, and was genuinely open to any feedback that would facilitate this. The course of my lessons followed the chapters of the book, which I found immensely helpful both from the point of view of a student and as an instructor. This allowed me to read and consider in depth each element of riding and then to gain the precise feel during my lessons. I plan to offer shorter courses at my farm, similarly combining theory with mounted lessons, so riders can learn both by understanding and by feel. When one of these two elements of learning is missing, the process becomes disjointed. There are many good works on how to ride and how to train a horse, but putting in words what is an unspoken art is always imperfect. Likewise, taking lessons without understanding the principles of how to train a horse leads to confusion. Listening to the horse is the fundamental method by which we learn, but even for this we need an ‘interpreter’ if we are to really understand.
     My course with Sylvia also included theory lessons. These one on one conversations took numerous forms - we would discuss her book, my lessons, or watch video together which she critiqued for me. Sometimes Sylvia would quiz me and sometimes I would ask questions, with each answer from Sylvia in depth enough to fill an entire magazine article. I hadn’t entered this deeply into any subject since doing immersion courses in graduate school. It felt as if I were peeling away the layers of an onion. I would peel away one entire layer thinking I had really accomplished something, only to find that beneath was an even deeper layer. I suppose all learning is this way, or even life itself. We never come to the end of learning, but only enter deeper and deeper - like a never ending spiral, often coming back to the point at which we started, but at a whole new level. I think at its heart, this is what dressage is all about. It’s not just about the training of the horse, it’s also about our own journey through life - this never ending spiral.
     In the end, this may be the most important thing I took away - an affirmation of my own ability to participate in the creative processes within me through my engagement with this noble creature, the horse. In addition to all this, I felt I had also made a true friend in Sylvia. We sometimes meet someone whose experiences and ideas about life resonate so much with our own, there’s an immediate understanding and trust. I realized this must have been why I related so well to Sylvia’s books and videos from the very beginning. I had sensed this was someone whom I could trust without question. It wasn’t all about her - it was about my horse. It was about all horses, and their happiness and well being, and our ability to participate in the beauty of their natures through this thing we call Dressage.