The Shetland Plan

A rider I have worked with wrote something recently that I have not been able to stop thinking about.

She described being forty, and quietly deciding she would sell her horse and get a Shetland instead. Not because she wanted a Shetland. Because, in her words, it was "a valid reason to never have to ride again but I would still get the horsey fix."

I read that and thought: there it is. That is the bit nobody says out loud.

Photo credit: Equiteam

The bargain riders make with themselves

Almost nobody wakes up and decides to stop riding. What happens instead is much quieter than that.

You start choosing the safer horse. Then the safer route. Then you find yourself grateful when it rains, because now there is a reason not to go. You take on a livery job, or a young one to bring on from the ground, or a project that conveniently keeps you busy at the yard and out of the saddle.

Every one of those decisions is defensible on its own. That is what makes them so effective. You are not avoiding riding. You are being sensible. You are being realistic about your time. You are putting the horse first.

And a Shetland is a completely reasonable thing to want.

The trouble is that a run of reasonable decisions can carry you a very long way from the thing you actually love, without a single moment where you had to admit what was happening.

What she did instead

Charlotte is a member of the fabulous EquiTeam, and she wrote about her experience on their blog. She had spent years working on her position, her fitness and her resilience. Her words for where the real problem sat: "in between my ears".

She tried the audios more or less as a last resort. She chose a package of five sessions with a worksheet for each one, and she listens lying down, because sitting up is uncomfortable and she cannot focus properly.

What I liked most about how she described it is how ordinary it sounds:

"I have never fallen 'asleep' and easily wake when Kerry ends the session, they are easy to fit in and although at first the sensation of entering hypnosis felt strange I now really look forward to that moment of calm when I hit that little play button."

That is what this actually is. No swinging watch. No stage. No handing control of yourself to anyone. You lie down, you press play, and you spend twenty minutes somewhere quieter than your own head.

Riders often expect it to be more dramatic than that, and are slightly disappointed when it is not. Then they notice they have started looking forward to it.

Charlotte also wrote this, and it is more useful than any before-and-after story:

"I am aware confidence is a skill that needs continuous work and focus and there will be times it is put to the test, but I now know I have the tools to overcome and carry on."

That is exactly right, and it is worth being honest about. Confidence is not a thing you are handed once and then own forever. It is a skill, and like any skill it needs practice, and it will wobble when it is tested.

What changes is not that the wobble stops. It is that you have something to do about it when it comes.

Her experience is her own, and I would never suggest anyone else's would look the same. But I think a lot of riders will recognise the Shetland plan, even if theirs takes a different shape.

You can read Charlotte's piece in full on the EquiTeam blog: How hypnotherapy is changing my riding and my life.

If you recognise yourself in this

The audio downloads are the easiest place to start. They are designed to be listened to at home, in your own time, lying down if that suits you better. No appointment, no commitment to a course of sessions, no explaining yourself to anyone.

Have a look at the audio downloads here.

And if you have quietly made a Shetland plan of your own, you are in considerably more company than you think.

Kerry