At a recent clinic in Perth, Western Australia, I worked with a student’s horse to demonstrate a principle in answer to a question. All went according to plan. But then somebody in the crowd asked, “What did you do? I saw what the horse did, but I didn’t see what you did to get him to do that.”

I was a little surprised. I thought what I did was obvious, and the horse thought it was super obvious, so I did it again. Nope. Nobody detected what I had done. The only ones who saw what I did were me and the horse.

Many years ago I was in Arizona hanging out with my friend, Harry Whitney. I remember how impressed I was that Harry could get any horse to walk relaxed but with a tremendous forward. There was no rushing or anxiety. The horses would walk comfortably forward as if they had a need to go somewhere. I watched carefully every horse rode over many weeks. I couldn’t figure out what he was doing to get such a brilliant walk from every horse.

“Harry, what the hell are you doing with your seat to get a walk from a horse? I don’t see you doing anything,” I said.

“I don’t know. I just ask for some life,” was the answer.

At the time, his answer frustrated me because I would ask for some life in my horse but never got the change in the walk that Harry could get. And then I figured it out.

Most people teach a horse to do something. There are billions of words written instructing people how to teach a horse to do something. There are millions of hours of videos on the internet explaining how to teach a horse to do something. Almost every blue ribbon, gold medal, and monetary reward is granted to people who can get their horse to do something better than the other competitors who have taught their horse to do something.

What confused the people in Perth about what I did in the demonstration and what confused me about the quality of walk Harry could get out of a horse, is that in neither case was the focus on teaching a horse to do something.

In both cases, Harry and I were focused on getting the horses to think something.

A horse is always trying to do what it is thinking. So when a horse thinks to do something you want, it looks like you did nothing. There is no more important principle in good horsemanship.

When your object is to drive a horse into doing something, there will always be a barrier to how good it could be. This is because it’s not the horse’s idea. While a horse is thinking about doing one thing and you drive it to do something else there can be no harmony and no partnership. There will always be some degree of resistance - even if barely detectable to anybody watching.

In contrast, when what you are thinking and the horse is thinking are the same jobs it can be beautiful. Directing a horse’s thoughts wins over driving their feet every time.

The reason Harry can entice horses to walk like he does is because he can direct their thought forward as if there was the best hay waiting for them just ahead. The reason people were unable to see me direct the horse at the clinic was that the horse and I were in a highly focused conversation where there was an exchange of ideas. In both cases, getting the movement we wanted was the result of directing the horse’s thoughts first.

I know many of you will feel frustrated because this post does not tell you HOW to first direct a horse’s mind before driving their feet. I won’t explain the process because I believe that would be irresponsible. It’s not something you can learn from reading about it or watching videos. If these ideas are important to you, find the best hands-on help you can and have lessons or attend clinics with like-minded professionals.