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| Saturday 22nd of March 2003 |
| I've been reading Sylvia Loch's book, "The Classical Rider: Being at One with your Horse". I'd got about two-thirds through it, and had a wonderful "aha!" moment about the seat (as demonstrated so ably by Colonel Alois Podhajsky on the left). The ideas that struck me especially were those of the 3-point seat feeling like sitting on the whole pelvic floor; the knees being low, rather than the heels (which will be low as a result); and the hip needing to open to allow the knee to be low and the leg to drape quietly the horses side. The leg needs to be under the body, as though standing. In the words of Xenophon: "I do not approve of a seat which is as though the man were on a chair; .. rather as though he were upright with his legs apart." The upper body needs to be tall and square, according to the Spanish Riding School motto "Down the weight, upright the body!" The same serene, poised |
| sensation as when performing a port de bras in ballet. And as in the port de bras first position, the hands need to be low - at the wither, and very quiet. The fingers may give, but not the hands. And in the rising trot, the rising should seem to originate from the waist and pelvis, not the shoulders moving forwards, or the seat pushing off. Nuno Oliveira's 'waist to hands' riding. So all this had merged into a beautiful tangible concept in my mind, and equipped with this, I went out to the stables and saddled up Mickey. On the way to the outdoor arena, I was whispering thoughts of grandeur and nobility to him, and what do you know - it all worked. My seat, my whole position, felt completely right (well at least it was an improvement on what I had previously. It was by no means perfect). And Mickey was so amazingly soft in my hand! I rode without gloves, deliberately, and kept in mind the idea of the descente de mains, giving to him after doing little half halts with the outside rein, and kept the contact light and steady. In turn, he didn't pull on the reins, or running into the contact. And he felt under me, together - not collected, but certainly not spread out and rushing like he normally is. He was soft and attentive and pliable. And I felt poised and elegant and just as soft and attentive. I was concentrating furiously, and yet also utterly relaxed. My mind was with him, my eyes between his ears. My hips aligned with his hips, and my shoulders with his. We were together, and it worked so well..... it was amazing. |
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