Thoughts about Thinking

I've concluded that I think too much . . . at least recently, anyways. I've been thinking, and I think that thinking is my best friend and worst enemy. It's one of those love-hate things. It helps me in some situations, since it helps me be observant and logical, but it also sometimes makes my progress go out the window, because I over-analyze.

Like you know that little program I did with Moose a while back because he kept putting his head up when I haltered him? It didn't do anything. He still does it. It's just that now I've accepted that I'm not going to fix that right now. It was a complete moment of "can't see the forest for the trees." I'm glad it did it, since I usually don't stick to programs because every day I want to try out something new, and this one actually lasted for a few days, but I still see now that it was pointless.

So, my inability to stick to programs and my tendency to over-analyze has caused me to think some more. (God help me, more thinking!) I need to make a program and just stick to it, so I don't bore my horse, or get stuck on one little task. So, my solution to this is to come up with a program for each session, so I have a focus on what I want to do. Normally, I wouldn't decide to do this, because I get direct-line, but I had a thought a minute ago. If you have 15 minute to play with your horse, that doesn't mean that you have "get 'er done" in that time. It just means you have 15 minutes. Good to know. I'll update again when I decide how exactly I want to proceed with this. . . we're able to do Liberty somewhat consistently now (YIPPEE!!!!!!!), so I might try for my Level 2 Audition and then start making programs, but we'll see. It's a balancing act: Relationship vs. Progress. Take too long in the relationship department, and you'll wind up not making any progress and dealing with a bored horse. Go too far down Progress lane, and your relationship goes out the window.

A tad off topic, but I don't know if any of you have read the book Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell (it's on Parelli's recommended reading list, and is a very interesting book), but one of the things the author mentions is that in order to become an expert at anything, it takes approximately 10,000 hours. I copied the following excerpt from Catherine Nugent's "How to become an Outlier??"

This got me thinking- how many hours have I spend with my horses? No much when you consider that it takes 10,000 to master a skill, according to the book. I spend about three hours on average a week with my horse. Not nearly enough! I've spend about 470 hours since I started Parelli with my horses- give or take a bit. I've spent about 35 with Archie- not much when you look at it like that, hey? That's one weeks worth of working hours to me. One week! That's nothing! If I want to be really good with horses, then I need to get 10,000 hours. That's 3 hours a day, seven days a week for ten years; Or 8 hours a day for 3.5 years. Interesting hey? How good would I be if I spent THAT much time with my horses? How good would my horses think I am?

Very interesting. Especially since I have professional goals, I found that incredible how to become a master horsewoman, I'd need to spend 3 hours a day for 10 years. Lately, I'm getting around 3-5 hours a week, which makes my grand total hours with Moose somewhere near 370 hours. If you're curious how many hours you've played with your horse, there's 2 options for ya:

1. If you play daily, multiply your average hours playing with your horse by 365 days in a year to equal your grand total.
2. If you play a certain amount weekly - let's say 5 hours a week, then multiply that number by 52 weeks in a year to equal your hours per year. In this case, it would be 260 hours per year.

Just something to think about. And Happy Belated Halloween, everyone!

Thinking To Myself - Literally

I wanted to mention the dialogue in my head today. I was thinking about being sure, and the scenario I created was a college professor talking to his students. P for professor, S for student(s). It's a little repetitive in some parts, and I came up with it myself, so it's not going to be super incredible: only positive comments please!

P: Pat Parelli says that the only way to know you're sure is that you're sure. So how do you know you're sure?
S: When you're sure, like you just said.
P: Okay, but how do you know you're sure? What's the difference between being sure and unsure?
S: Your confidence in your beliefs. If you're sure, you'll be confident in what you believe.
P: Okay, so what would make you sure that 2+2=4?
S: You just know. It's always been that way.
P: For you.
S: Yes, for me.
P: So, would a Kindergartener know that 2+2=4?
S: Well, maybe not.
P: Okay, so what about a 6th grader: would they know?
S: Certainly.
P: You're sure?
S: Positive.
P: Why?
S: That's a higher level of education.
P: Meaning?
S: They should already know 2+2 and 2-2 and 2x2 and even 2/2. 2+2 is only the foundation, and they're way past that.
P: Okay, then. So, why would you expect a 6th grader to know 2+2, but not a Kindergartener?
S: They're farther along in their learning. A Kindergartener doesn't know that much yet.
P: Okay, so relating this back to horses. Would you expect a baby horse to know 2+2, figuratively?
S: No.
P: Why?
S: He's not ready for that yet.
P: But you would expect a '6th grade' horse to know 2+2?
S: Yep.
P: So, how could he be sure that 2+2=4?
S: By what we taught him.
P: So, your actions influence what he learns?
S: Yep.
P: Okay, so if a Kindergartener went to a different school, would you expect them to know that 2+2=4?
S: No, because they haven't learned that in the first place.
P: Okay, what about the 6th grader?
S: Yeah, he should know that, but maybe he'd be a little bit confused about the higher up concepts. Maybe he'd learn another way to do 2x2=4, but the basic 2+2 wouldn't change at all.
P: Okay, then, back to the horse scenario again. We've established that we cause horses to be sure based on the feedback we give them. So, what would happen if the '6th grade' horse got sold and went to another owner? Would 2+2 still equal 4?
S: Maybe, but probably not. Every new owner would have different ways of communicating and different cues for things. So, they might learn that 2+2=5.
P: So, then how would the horse be sure?
S: Based on what the human tells them.
P: But do you see how easy it would be for a horse to be unsure, then, if every time he changed homes, the rules of reality changed?
S: Yeah.
P: So, now what about the 12th grade horse? Here's the guy who's graduating in a year and is all set to work the rest of his life. He knows his job, does it well, and can teach new riders by this point. What happens to him?
S: You'd have to re-teach him starting from the basics.
P: Is that fair?
S: Not necessarily, but it can be better if it's better for the horse.
P: Would that ever happen to a human (unless they moved ouside their country)?
S: No.

So, what should you have gotten from all this? For one thing, like Pat said, the only way to know you're sure is that you're sure. And the only way for your horse to be sure is that you're sure and you get him sure, too.

But you can clearly see the benefits of being all on the same page. This doesn't have to be with a different owner. Sometimes it can be the same owner on different days. One day 2+2=4, the next day 2+2=5. So, maybe we can all learn some empathy when our horses aren't sure around us. Maybe we just need to look inward, before we point the finger. Just something to ponder.