07/15/2026
Classical riding centers heavily around working a horse with, and not against, their nature. I spend a lot of time thinking about what this means, and particularly what it means for individual horses who come across my path.
Part of working with a horses nature involves understanding their desire to move, and being careful not to shut their movement down in order for us to feel safe.
A lot of horses, but it seems mustangs in particular, fall prey to programs that rely on desensitizing, shutting them down, and asking them to perform circus tricks and other flashy maneuvers for the sake of humans. Sometimes this type of training occurs fast in order to get the horse “gentle,” but in this case gentle means we’ve taken the horses nature away, and we’ve asked them to tolerate human antics with little backtalk or opinion so that we can feel safer. Not all mustang gentling is like this, but many that I’ve worked with have been exposed to these types of programs.
Pictured is the now soft muzzle of a mustang who is with me for a short time. He experienced the above training, and he has an uncanny ability to be frozen even in movement. He goes through the motions, and tolerates a lot while he checks out and goes somewhere else in his mind. To an uneducated eye he looks like quite the bombproof horse, but his owner found out the hard way the cost of riding a horse that had been trained to check out.
What I love about classical riding and good horsemanship is that the relaxation we look for in the horse can’t be forced or faked. It isn’t always smooth or pretty, especially when asking a checked out horse to move and feel their movement. It’s also tempting with a horse like this to be too careful and walk on eggshells (we do the same thing with traumatized kids too), but what I’ve focused on with this horse is being steady, confident, and assured. I’ve asked him to learn to move in a better way, and I’m very careful to not overreact when his movement is bigger and more erratic than I’d like; they can’t be told it’s safe to move and then get punished if their movement scares us.
As he’s learned to move in a steady tempo that is correct for him and stay in alignment, he’s found his balance and is starting to come over his back, breathe deeply, blink, and lick his lips. He used to purse his lips shut, hold his breath, tense his tail and ears, take short choppy strides, and his mouth would be bone dry. He’s beginning to find a greater range of motion, and the soft lipstick ring around his mouth is proof that he’s starting to let go and that his energy is getting freed. I am quite proud of this, because this is a softness that cannot be forced or artificially created.