Diving interlude

Greetings from San Pedro, Belize, C.A.!

Steve and I are on an adventure full of sand, salt water and some crazy weather--all of this is fantastic, even if there are no ponies in sight.

Steve at the Aquarium site within the Blue Hole

And what are we doing here? Why, enjoying our other intense and possibly dangerous hobby--scuba diving. What am I doing this very second? Digesting a fine meal and trying to stay awake for at least another hour because falling asleep at 7 p.m. while on vacation seems so very lame. It may, however, be inevitable after diving today in post-storm seas and knowing we head out at 5:30 a.m. tomorrow for a full day of diving. Late-night partying at the local disco seems unwise, or it does for me as I prefer to be fairly well-rested, coherent and alert when I'm headed underwater.

Dive shop mid-storm. The boats had all been moved to the other side of the Caye for the storm duration.

We did miss one day of diving thanks to Tropical Depression Two which smacked into Belize with high winds, storm surge and a lot of sideways rain. If it had made it to Tropical Storm level, it would have been TS Barry, but it went the land route and is staying at TD level and dumping large amounts of rain on it's way west. On it's way through here, it blew things around, uprooted sea grass and knocked over part of the dive shop's dock.

Heavy clouds and sunrise over tanks--on the way to The Blue Hole

Luckily, we had at least gotten some diving in before the storm hit--two dives Saturday and the epic awesomeness that is the Great Blue Hole Sunday in the rain that preceded TDT. Incredible experiences that made sitting out yesterday mostly almost okay and gave us an adventure-filled day with our wacky and entertaining group of fellow divers. Golf carts are a great form of transportation, even in the rain, and you can in fact catch air at ten miles an hour. Who knew? No, I was not driving.

Tomorrow, we head out to Turneffe for a three-dive day with lunch and hopefully some sunshine. My skin does not yet look like I've been in the tropics, but a tan was only one of my very minor goals.

The major goals of diving as much as possible and absorbing copious amounts of warm salt water through my skin are being met to the very best of my ability. Staying awake much longer, however, is a goal rapidly slipping away from me tonight.

More soon, I hope--then back to the horses when we get home.

Emotional Intelligence

Working with horses has had a combined effect of both improving and muddling up my interactions with my fellow humans. This article discusses research showing a link between possible improvement to emotional intelligence and interaction with horses. This makes perfect sense to those of us who frequently wear eau de horse as our perfume of choice. Less obvious is the irritation we sometimes feel when our human interactions become exercises in uncovering the real meaning in that well-worded but obviously false statement.   

This is my inside expression when talking to some of my customers. 
"Well, that's a big stinky load of manure."

Horses mirror our moods and emotions. They do not care why we are exhibiting a particular flavor of attitude, but they will react to it and throw it back at us--sometimes in large and spectacular ways. Humans do this too, but often with a whole lot of other crap tossed in on top of it totally unrelated to the actual conversation. It's probably why horse people often get labeled as "blunt," among other less-flattering terms. 

You can't lie to horses and nuances are lost on them--they read intent and body language better then you do any day--so most of us have given up trying. This naturally bleeds over on occasion to our human interactions, though those on the other side do not always appreciate the less subtle approach some of us have adopted. And there are those people and situations requiring more nuance and delicate handling than a crop in the face--only figuratively, I swear--to remind them about personal space and respect.

On the plus side, tossing horse-references at non-horse people often distracts them from whatever idiotic drama they are planning. I had a customer--one who had been terrorizing the entire staff for several days--come up to me and say something about not really being scary to which I replied, "You're not scary, I ride Thoroughbreds." It took the next several sentences right clean out of her mouth which was quite delightful since most of them would surely have irritated me.

Thankfully for my sanity, and apparently my emotional intelligence, spending time with the much-easier to deal with and not particularly scary horses in my life keeps me on enough of an even keel that even the most aggravating human doesn't usually get to me. There are exceptions, but they disappear in my rear view mirror on the way to the barn and Calabar is quite good at reminding me just where my focus needs to be and it is most definitely not on the irritating customer.

If any one horse has taught me to be direct, clear and calm, it's Calabar. And if any horse has helped me be a better owner to Calabar, to tone down my energy and feed that calmness into any given situation, it's Dixie. If only Calabar could recognize her positive influence, he might not glare at her when he sees us together. 

Actually, he seems to have realized something lately. Or I am channeling calmness and confidence better thanks to my small part in helping Dixie survive her stall-rest without further injury--either physical or mental. She required stillness from her handlers to offset the energy rippling under her skin--energy trapped in a 12x12 box with nowhere to go except circling to stir up poop, hay and shavings, banging into walls or snaking a well-placed nip at an unsuspecting stall cleaner. She was not easy to handle inside or outside her stall which made it that much more important to remain relaxed and confident, not chastise her for being herself and simply give her a safe place to go with all that fire in her soul that made her the winning racehorse she was.

Dixie says this is way better than a stall.

And we did it--she is now the picture of a relaxed ranch horse, watching the happenings around her with a calm eye and getting ready to school us all on how to properly motivate a smart horse like her. 

Dixie the Neigh Savers model.

Through all of that, I've come out the other side a little more sure of my own abilities and a little less nervous about my own horse because Dixie helped me "get" him better. Working on my seat, riding with more symmetry (or as much as my crooked self can manage) is also helping, but the increased peace inside me seems to be translating to him the most. His eye is softer, his body more relaxed and he is asking me to do more each time we ride. Even at dinner time, even when he's hanging out with Forrest, he comes up to me ready to go ride.

Sorry, Forrest--Mom is here and it's time to go ride!

Oh, there is still much more work to be done--horsemanship is never be a finished work, always a work-in-progress and more to learn even with the horse you know best.