Tag Archives: riding

midlines

Sensing and feeling the mid-line can be a challenge when most of us feel out of kilter and out of balance a lot of the time.  A couple weeks ago my lovely Amadeo had a nice big buck while I was riding.  I was feeling fragile emotionally, and so not quick enough to come up out of the saddle to protect myself.  The result: a coccyx sprain.  I walked around feeling rotated, disconnected and fragmented until my next osteopathy appointment.  It was frustrating and interesting to feel that off my mid-line.  Andy Goldman, my osteopath, encouraged me to ride my mid-line in sync with the mid-line of the horse.  So on my next ride, I paid attention to my newly centered tailbone, feeling it connect to the horse’s tail, and sending my energy up my spine through the center of the occipital ridge while seeing/feeling the horse’s poll.

The result was a surprising deliciousness and sense of connection and balance in the ride.  I also noticed that Deo’s crookedness tracking right was connected to the way I close the space between my right shoulder and sternum (shifting my mid-line too far to the left), effectively closing the door to his ability to open to the right!  When I opened that space, with a feeling of widening and softening, he began to straighten and soften!

Revelations!

Then today, while coaching a performer (the lovely Sari Max), I asked her to notice her mid-line with a couple somatic exercises of moving away from and then back onto a centered mid-line.  Then I asked her to move from lying down to standing pausing along the way to look at where her mid-line was in that moment,  The result was that her movement from floor to standing was beautifully effortless and grounded.  Then we took that same sense of mid-line into the text of the play, connecting a physical sense of center and balance to the emotional through-line of each line.  The result was a deeper authenticity and groundedness in the language and movement.  Brilliant and transformational!

SHARE & EMAIL

helping horses, helping humans

I love working with horses and their humans.  Most of what goes wrong with horse and their humans is not in the saddle.  It happens on the ground.  it happens in the stall.  It happens on the way from one place to another.  A lot of it has nothing to do with the horse at all.  It has to do with things that are older and deeper that make their way into the relationship with the horse.  It is rarely intentional or malicious.  It often has to do with a lack of awareness, or regard, or attention or understanding.

Most often what I do starts with movement observation.  I watch how the person moves around the horse, how the horse responds to them, to its environment, to the various parts of tacking up, leading, riding.  I watch.  And then bit by bit, I start to decode the dance.  What is working?  What is confusing?  What is missing?

Much of what I do has to do with bringing both horse and human more fully into their bodies, and then more fully into connection with each other.  That makes for a better relationship.  And usually it makes for a better ride.  Happier horse, happier human.  I love that.

If you want help, you can contact me here.

all the pretty horses

This post is about a new performance project that I am developing.  I would love for you to share this information with friends.  This project grew out of my desire to create performance that would benefit horses, and is part of my company’s “horses helping horses” project.  It is close to my heart.  I am especially excited about this project because our partners, Little Brook Farm, are so deeply woven into their upstate New York community and have taught literally thousands of children about horses.

All the Pretty Horses is a community-based, inter-species dance project with “throw away” horses that have been rescued from abuse or slaughter and now live safe and happy at the equine sanctuary Little Brook Farm, in Old Chatham, NY. The performance is a benefit for the sanctuary and will take place September 22, 2012.

Also participating in the performance are the riders and vaulters from Little Brook Farm, area student dancers and the professional dancers from Paula Josa-Jones/Performance Works.

All the Pretty Horses reveals the depth and heart of the human-horse bond and the beauty and possibility of horses that were thrown away or consigned to slaughter. It shows us that when we share time and space with horses, learn to listen to them and communicate through the language of movement, we become more compassionate, more connected to each other and more a part of the shared earth.

What we need:
We are seeking 20 dancers and gymnasts to participate in this world premiere event. You will have a unique and exciting opportunity to work with a professional dance company and the horses and riders from Little Brook Farm. No horse experience is necessary. Participation fee is $100, which includes all classes and rehearsals. Participating dancers will receive a certificate at the end of the project. Saturday rehearsals are twice a month from April – September. For more information or to join the project:
josajones@gmail.com

We also need financial support:  Funds are needed to pay professional dancers’ fees, travel and production expenses. We raised start up funds from Kickstarter and need to raise an additional $5000 to complete the project.  You can make a donation here.  We deeply appreciate your support of All the Pretty Horses!

still sitting

Still sitting even in the snow, or maybe especially in the snow.  Sitting requires more rigor and devotion when it is cold and windy.

There are days when I do not want to do the work, when I feel that it will take too much from me, or that I do not have enough to give to it. The work could be anything:  the writing, the riding, the dancing.

I went to the barn early today to ride because a snowstorm was coming.  For me, riding is sitting.  Riding is practice.  Riding is that combination of rigor and devotion.  Today was one of those days when I did not think I had enough to give.  My body felt sore and stiff after several days of riding the big, powerful Friesian, Sanne.

At one point in the ride, I wanted to stop and say, “Wait, this is too hard, I cannot do it, I do not know how.”  In fact, I think I did stop and say something like that.  I could feel how the muscles in my arms were braced, how the pieces of my riding were not flowing together, felt I was coming apart, both mentally and physically.

Here is the thing.  It was less my body than my mind.  It was that old doubting, questioning, fearful part of my noisy mind, the part that has gotten up and left the meditation hall even when my body is still sitting there (in the saddle, holding the reins.)

Somehow I did recover myself.  Here is what I did.  I stopped trying the same old thing, and began to improvise my ride.  A circle here, a softening there, a change of direction:  change, change, change.  I shifted my attention to the stiff, unyielding parts of my body and invited suppleness there.

I think this is what it means to be a spiritual athlete.  Nurturing an athleticism that is not about big muscles or marathon sitting, but the kind of athleticism that is about endurance and steadfastness.  About finding a way in, every day.  Offering the best, every day.