Good Enough
This week's Trinity Dressage Schooling Idea
*Good Enough* When does "good" become "good enough"?
aside - Well, I'm proud that I qualify now as an official 'blogger' online. I'm not sure what that means, and I don't have an official "blog", but it seems I'm going to be doing one soon, so please know that I will let you know when I know. Watch this space.
Back to our topic at hand: Good Enough.
Recently, I was happy to show a wonderful, beautiful, sweet horse for the first time. A horse that doesn't necessarily belong in the "Athlete" category; A horse that doesn't always try his hardest, that doesn't always fulfill the criteria for the "submission" collective; the kind of horse that on that day (and probably not for the last time) said to me "nah, I'll pass" when I asked for a shoulder in, and "thanks, I think it'd be easier not to do the medium trot, but gee, thanks for asking!" He's polite, beautiful, sometimes a little cheeky, but never offensive. You see, this horse is the perfect horse for HIS PERSON. I am his trainer, I am not his person, so it's all just kind of irrelevant.
This concept crystallized for me when I sent my dear daughter off to her first day of First Grade. I had no idea what I nor her were in for, and soon, I realized that first grade teachers have to be a blend of third world dictator, a late night club bouncer, and nobel peace prize committee member. They also have to bandage boo-boos, clean up "accidents," and basically placate until the end of the day, especially for those first few precious months when all the Little Precious-es are getting used to all-day school where you actually do something. . and there is no more naptime.
You see, first grade teachers have to have the right blend of "nicey-nicey" and "I don't care, get back to work." At first, I was shocked by what I heard was going on in first grade. I felt offended that my dearest little girl, my innocent little just-graduated-kindergarten sweetheart might be a tattletale, or the prospect that she might have had had to sit in her seat empty handed during lunch because she forgot her student ID. I mean, I was ready to don my SuperMom cape and swoop right in there and mess some people up. And then I realized, first grade is where real school starts. First grade is what she wasn't ready for last year, but what they prepared her for. First grade is the time I have to set her up for success, prepare her, but I still have to send her on her way and wait and see what happened by what I hear when I pick her up from the bus. In first grade. . . she spends a lot more time talking with other kids. . .
Second Level Dressage is lot like First Grade.
For this horse, he does things so well at 'home'. He is an angel for his mother - which is far and beyond waaay more important than any dumb old textbook travers anyway (sorry dressage gods) - and he behaves himself like a gentleman within eyesight of his "family". In his lessons with me, I become the first grade teacher in the closed-door tutoring session and he gets a little tough love, he responds brilliantly, I reward him, and I can proudly show everyone how well he has learned his lessons when they poke their head into the arena to see this lovely student.
When we show for the first time together, and the ring becomes the 'classroom', I soon find he prefers staring out the window to reciting his lessons that he knew so well when it was just us practicing. I ask, and there is simply no answer to be found. I ask again, a little harder, and feel like I'm the first grade teacher: I must find the blend to convince him that it's cool to be the good kid. MY good kid. But no, he's popping his collar and sinking down in his chair. . . still looking out the window, no simple change to be found.
But it is at this point that we all must be realistic and realize that sometimes it's simply "Good Enough."
Dressage is hard: dressage is the pursuit of perfection, and dressage is mentally challenging. Sometimes, even the expectations of greatness, on the horse you know to be stellar, who can handle all the stresses of competition, who trailers like a hero, who makes everything simply a matter of do, repeat, repeat, know. . . that is the horse that sinks down his chair when you ask him a question. Not because he doesn't know, but because he simply isn't interested in answering. And that's because the real school - the real dressage - has begun.
"Good enough," however, is the horse that is exactly what he needs to be, that instills courage, that promotes desire in HIS PERSON to do better TOGETHER. "Good enough" has little to do with perfection, but everything to do with the journey.
The first time that Paige brought one of her homemade books home with a big fat smiley face and "100%" marked in bright red marker, I couldn't understand why the teacher hadn't corrected the mispellings of her classmates' names who were characters in the story, the pages accidently left blank, and (most troubling to me, somehow) why the giraffe with five legs was labeled "jeraf". After thinking for a moment, I suddenly realized it was "good enough", because it was exactly what it needed to be... for now... to build courage, to create desire.
Good Job today, Mr. Good Enough. Because good enough, today, was exactly what we hoped for. Even if the teacher didn't realize it at the time.
