Haiku Horsemanship

Now that I’m (mostly) back on my feet again after more than four months off nursing my injury, I find I have little time to work with Maira before I go off to work in Hawaii for the autumn and, hopefully, the winter.

What little work I do will have to be efficient and jam-packed with meaning. One of my favorite websites these days is www.zenhabits.net.

Leo Babauta writes about how he has simplified his life through mindfulness of what he really needs, and what is superfluous. Leo has found that most of what many people think they really need is superfluous for him and his family. He lives a stripped down, Zen sort of life in Guam with his wife and six kids. Late last week I ran across his post about limiting yourself to the essential, which Leo calls HAIKU PRODUCTIVITY.

Haiku, an ancient and beautiful form of poetry, is, as Andrew says, limited but powerful. In its traditional form, a haiku is a poem contained in just 17 syllables, arranged in 3 lines of 5, 7 and 5 syllables each. This “limitation” of form forces writers of haiku to focus on finding the words with the most “bang for the buck.” Powerful and compact, haiku cuts to the heart of the matter, focusing on one essential concept. Just 17 syllables can express mountains of meaning.
Here is a fine haiku by master Hashin, which, in its transliteration from the Japanese does not follow the strict 5-7-5 syllable form:

No sky
no earth – but still
snowflakes fall

You get the point. Minimum words, maximum effect.

While Haiku in poetry and in life is a nice in principle, few people take the time to winnow down the zillions of bits of information whizzing around, belongings piling up, and responsibilities multiplying to the degree that Leo Babauta and his family have. In our modern world, we have a lot of stuff coming at us: sitcoms are on 24/7, the radio is exhorting us to buy a cheap used car, the kids have to go to practice, the trash has to go out and the groceries have to come in. We are jugglers. We really don’t take the time to evaluate what’s absolutely essential and pare away the rest. After all, the American dream does not involve purposely doing without, does it?

But Leo got me to thinking. I work very hard to be mindful in my daily life. To eliminate the non-essential “noise” wherever possible, so that the things that really matter stand in sharp relief. If I can see them clearly, I can give them the attention they deserve. While Leo thinks in terms of productivity, I think in terms of creating and preserving a peaceful life, both inside and outside myself.

With Maira, as a four year old, there’s a lot of work to be done. In terms of my own riding skills, the mountain of things to be learned looms ever larger. It’s easy to be overwhelmed. I have no systematic way to focus on the essential stuff, and eliminate the rest. Here is where I look to Leo and Haiku Productivity. I’ll rename his concept Haiku Horsemanship (with his blessing, of course) and think about how I can best use the short amount of time I have with Maira before autumn.

The key to Haiku Horsemanship will be to limit myself to an arbitrary but small number of goals, forcing myself to focus on only the most important stuff and eliminate everything else.

I have chosen three things to practice with Maira. They may seem simplistic to readers, but they will take some finely-pointed attention on my part, and some cooperation of Maira’s part:

1. Elimination of the flyspray dance
2. Standing stock still at the mounting block
3. Bending and straightness in simple serpentines at the trot

I have a little time. If I work with careful attention and avoid the temptation to work on other issues as they come up, I can get the most bang for my buck in terms of training time. I will limit my attention to these few essential goals and allow the rest to fall away. No huge efforts to keep up with whatever is being taught in the lessons. No “going where the day takes me.” FOCUS. Like meditation on a mantra, I will attend only to Maira’s stance, to bending and straightness. These are concepts both simple and complex. If I give them 100% of my attention, I’m hoping I can plumb the depths of their complexity while dealing with them in a straightforward manner.

I spend a lot of time with Maira on the ground. I may as well make it count toward my Zen Horsemanship goals of eliminating the flyspray dance and getting her to stand perfectly still at the mounting block. We will begin with practicing “the statue” tomorrow.

Maira bends like Gumby and she knows how to move straight. The transition between the two, under a sloppy rider who is out of shape, don’t come easily, however. Tomorrow I will begin with straightness. At the walk. We will stop and turn at the fence. She will probably be bored, and I will have to cough up a lot of treats to keep her on board. Come to think of it, I may need a treat or two myself.