A friend of mine loaned me a book recently,J.B. Cummings,BART My Life. Anyone who knows anything at all about thoroughbred racing will know the name of the man regarded as probably Australia's greatest horse trainer. His memoir was winner of the the Australian book industry award for Biography 2010.
Not only is it interesting from a horse point of view, but there is also great life and management learning.
The first of many important lessons appears early where Bart notes there is no magic. He says, "...there is relentless work, discipline, adherence to your methods and plans, taking a genuine interest in the horse's welfare, and, above all, plain commonsense."
A great mentor of mine said many years ago, "The problem with commonsense is that it is not too common." Where does commonsense come from? How do we get it? Like judgement, I don't think it can be taught. It is something learned from experience.
Bart believed that his real education began when he left school early and worked for his father. He noted that his father was more interested in making him think, always encouraging him to ask questions. One of the lessons learnt was that when horses are well looked after, they appreciate it, they never forget. Bart's father felt that horses were often riddles waiting to be worked out. "Soon I realised that this was why Dad was so quiet: every scrap of information, every insight and observation about every one of his horses he was retaining in his mind," said Bart.
Coincidentally, I watched a broadcast on TED.com by the deaf percussionist Evelyne Glennie. She was illustrating how listening to music involves much more than simply letting sounds hit your eardrums.I found one comment particularly pertinent to my topic, "In the same way I need time with this intstrument, I need time with people to interpret them.Not just translate them, but interpret them."
Such insights and much of what Bart writes is timely as I am working with our thoroughbred colt. As a foal he was a lovely tractable fellow, learning quickly. Suddenly, about the time he was twelve months old, his behaviour became coltish and I was no longer able to work with him in the paddock, let alone get him to the barn.
It took four of us and a more mature horse to herd him into our barn. Suffice it to say, after some time, we are kind of friends again. I say 'kind of' because I am accutely aware of how tenuous our relationship is as he watches me intently for an excuse not to trust me. The continued relationship depends entirely on how I behave. One ill considered, impatient mistake on my part and all will be lost.
Bart talks about understanding horses behaviour, and when hiring stable staff, he looks for horsemen who shared his view, "...that the horse's happiness comes first. You really have to love the horse and read its moods. A lot of trainers do not put themselves in the horse's skin and do not ask themselves why horses are behaving in a certain way. Horses are always sending you messages, and you need to learn their language. Unless you are Mister Ed, they won't tell you in english. You need to have empathy."
Substitute the word 'people' for the word 'horse' and the word 'manager' for 'trainer'...
It seems that no matter how much experience I accumulate there is always more to learn. In my areas of interest which include, people, horses and management, this means, to paraphrase the words of the great horseman, There is no magic. Only relentless work. People/horses are riddles waiting to be worked out.
Evelyn Glennie's words noted earlier make a fitting conclusion. " I need time with people to interpret them. Not just translate them, but interpret them."
