Leap of confidenceA short break on horseback on the golden beaches of Co Wexford sounds like a pretty appealing prospect for most people, but when you have a fear of wide-open spaces, and dread losing control of your horse, it becomes a massive challenge, writes Gemma Tipton.
THE OLDER YOU get, the less you end up doing difficult things. I'm not talking about bringing up kids, or dealing with life's "big issues", as these can obviously be enormously challenging. But the truth is, as adults, we tend to stick to the things we know we're good at. We play Scrabble if we have a way with words, and don't try sky-diving if we haven't exactly got a head for heights. This goes to make it all the more inexplicable that, as someone with a nagging anxiety about wide-open spaces, and a fear of being out of control on a madly galloping horse, I found myself on a short break in Co Wexford with a friend and two horses, with crashing waves and miles and miles of open sandy beach ahead of us. Getting beyond the comfort zone is obviously a good thing (if we're to believe motivational gurus the world over), but this seemed to be an extreme voyage into a twilight zone of absolute panic.
It came about slowly. My friend Eleanor and I keep our horses at the same livery yard, around which apartment blocks called things such as The Gallops are slowly eating up the land where we used to ride. Talking about how much we wanted to get away for an inexpensive holiday, we came to the conclusion that our horses might enjoy a bit of a change of scenery, too. I had visions of ambling along forest tracks, listening to bird song and, because this is Ireland, gently splashing rain. But the discovery of a small stable yard near Carnsore Point, and a cottage for rent on a farm a hundred yards down the road, seemed to make perfect sense. Or at least it made perfect sense to every part of me, save the one that was instantly gripped by panic-stricken, sick-making, gnawing, biting fear.
Now, I'm a big fan of taking on the things I'm scared of, I think it's really good for me. But there's a difference between, say, standing up and giving a talk in a crowded lecture room, and doing something that paralyses you with fear and makes you sick to your stomach, especially on a horse.
One of the worst things you can do with any animal is be nervous, because you transmit your anxiety, and the whole thing can get quickly out of control.
On the other hand, I reasoned, other people can do it, so why not me? And I had often envied the exhilaration friends have described after a flat-out gallop. So, I decided, the best way to deal with irrational fear would be to get practical about it. First stop was Google: "irrational fear". As some people online were expressing fears of such things as vacuum cleaners and the serrated edges of cling-film boxes, it became obvious that a certain level of anxiety over being out of control in unfamiliar surroundings on a thundering horse was eminently reasonable. It also seemed that earlier strategies to overcome nerves about public speaking had only made things worse.
My mantra before taking to the podium or microphone had always been "they can't hurt me physically". Which, of course, they couldn't. However, when it came to something that clearly could, there were a lot of stored-up nerves to deal with. I took a look at www.rationalfear.com, where you can see (as they put it) "what actually kills people like me". But I left the site none the wiser for my research.
So I decided to solve the problem by shopping. I bought a CD, Paul McKenna's Instant Confidence. Listening to McKenna's voice is like being relentlessly chatted up by a slightly sleazy bloke in a bar.
McKenna does neuro-linguistic programming (NLP) to plant ideas in your subconscious that can be triggered by actions. The idea is that after listening to the CD, pinching your thumb and middle finger together releases endorphins, and these allay your panic. All good, I thought, after a week's concentrated listening, and so a sunny Saturday found me hacking Bosco down the lane, grinning like a maniac while humming. I decided we needed a special song. So trying to grin, hum and sing a verse from Bohemian Rhapsody (it was all I could think of at the time), we came upon a terrifying barking dog / large lorry / plastic bag combo. Of these three, the plastic bag was most alarming to Bosco, so I decided it was time for the finger pinching. Trouble is, that meant letting go of the reins with one hand, and the whole situation quickly disintegrated.
Next up: EFT. EFT, or "Emotional Freedom Therapy", sounds a little Californian, but is really rather good. I went to Rex Dunlop, who gets you to tap various parts of your body and own up to whatever it is you're scared of. I'm slightly sceptical of the tapping part, although, as I said before, it couldn't hurt me physically. But I did find a huge amount of relief in saying "yes, I'm scared", rather than the more usual "I'm fine, it's grand, I just don't feel like doing whatever-it-is today."
Talking to Dunlop, we got to the bottom of the fact that what I was actually scared of wasn't the galloping part, but of being out of control to the degree that I couldn't deal with unspecified dangers - such as gaping holes in the ground, sudden savage dogs, or "unnameable things". Interestingly, I also "remembered" something long-forgotten (perhaps deliberately so): a riding accident as a child that had put me in intensive care for a week. Naming my fear of "unnameable things", I left Dunlop's feeling much calmer.
I also bought a book, Perfect Confidence by Kelly Marks. Marks is a student of Monty Roberts, the original horse whisperer, and her book on confidence is fantastic. She's practical, funny and is very good at separating what are actually perfectly rational fears that are there to save your life (riding a half-wild horse in heavy traffic), and what are anxieties that are worth dealing with (and tips on how to go about it).
Finally, holiday time came, and so off we went. Wexford is one of my favourite counties. It has fascinating history, a beautiful shoreline, expansive beaches, lovely pubs and statistically less rainfall than anywhere else in the country. The cottage at Kilrane was sweet, with an open fire and views of donkey- and sheep-filled fields reaching down to the sea.
Leaving Bosco and Kestrel in their boxes munching hay, we headed back to cook an evening feast and plan the next day's adventure. Of course, I woke up nervous. But fear, as I discovered, sits on an edge between excitement and dread. You can turn it into that thrilling feeling of sheer exhilaration, or you can let it degenerate into panic. It really is an attitude of mind. And, although it didn't happen instantly, and I don't know whether it was the CD, the EFT, Eleanor's patience, or just the sheer beauty of the surroundings, by the end of our holiday, it had become sheer, blissful delight.
So what did releasing my fear mean to me? As well as the knowledge that I can, if I put my mind to it, do anything, I have unforgettable memories of leaning forward, urging Bosco on in a neck-and-neck race, realising that the Irish thoroughbred is one of the fastest horses in the world, and that this is what he was born to do.
Then there was walking the horses through tidal pools as the sun sank and birds flew in to pick at evening worms. And best of all? Riding along the beach from Kilrane to Carnsore Point, stopping on the way at the Lobster Pot in Carne, where the horses munched grass while we had some of the best seafood chowder in Ireland, and (something which had nothing at all to do with horses) lighting a fire in the cottage in the evenings, opening a bottle of wine, relaxing into armchairs and thinking: "Today was amazing."
Back home, I realised that, at any one time, there are so many people gripped with fear. They're at livery yards, in offices, at lectures, they're at home, putting off lifting the phone, not sending e-mails, procrastinating all sorts of things. And as a result, they (or I should say "we") have been missing out on so much.
The next trip, if I can ever afford it, is another horse holiday. I've found out about a South African safari, where you ride through the landscape, meet giraffes and zebras, swim with horses, and most likely face and overcome a whole new set of fears. I can't wait.
Perfect Confidence by Kelly Marks is published by Ebury Press
Rex Dunlop can be contacted on 086-1597170
Instant Confidence book and CD by Paul McKenna, is published by Bantam Press
Inner Talk CD from www.innertalk.com
We stayed at O'Leary's Farm, www.olearysfarm.com