17/09/2025
Why Being Too Clever Can Get You Into Trouble with Horses
Now, people like me - the “clever ones.” We’ve solved life’s puzzles with thinking: algebra, essays, careers, actually reading the IKEA instructions. Thinking is our Excalibur. Then that horse that doesn't behave as expected comes along, and we think: “Ah yes, another tricky problem for my mighty intellect to conquer.”
So we diagnose him with “generalised anxiety disorder,” order supplements with the words "calming" in the name, buy 3 new expensive saddle , 63 new bits, and Google: “herbs to help sensitive geldings.”
At no point do we consider the obvious: maybe the problem isn’t HIS brain. Maybe it’s mine. Or, even worse - my body.
Because here’s the kicker: horses don’t care about your IQ 🤓.
They’re not impressed that you can draw the chemical structure of morphine, or that you can pronounce quinoa without hesitation. They only care whether your insides match your outsides.
If your nerves are leaking out of your hands, your seat, your breathing - they’ll clock it instantly. If you ride like a stiff, lopsided backpack, they’ll notice. If you creep around trying not to upset them, they’ll find that deeply upsetting.
The bitter pill I had to choke down (and trust me, valerian root tastes like regret 🤢) was this: my horse didn’t need a genius. He needed a martial artist 🥋. Someone whose body and mind were aligned, balanced, communicating clearly.
Someone who rode and facilitated the transfer of load through locomotion and didn't disrupt it - not someone who just knew the physics equation behind it.
Once I stopped trying to think my way out of trouble and started training my body - to balance, to breathe, to match the rhythm of movement, to be coordinated enough to convey meaning - the horse’s “anxiety” mysteriously vanished. Because it wasn’t anxiety at all. It was him reacting to the horror of being piloted by a disconnected brain in a wobbly meat suit who was telling him the world was terrifying whilst yanking on his mouth at the same time!
So here’s your collectible advice: horses don’t want purely brainiacs. They want martial artists. They want your body and your mind to show up in the same place, at the same time and be coordinated. And if that offends your intellect? Brilliant. Because now you know exactly what you need to focus your attention on.
Collectible Advice 21/365 — part of my Notebook Challenge.
This is meant to be saved, shared, and reflected on — but not copy–pasted. Because copy–paste is uncool, and horses can smell inauthenticity from a mile away. 🐴😉
