I just came back from a few days at a John Lyons clinic in Pensacola, Fla. I enjoyed John’s teaching and I connected with three amazing women that I don’t get to see often. I also got a front-row lesson about dealing with fear.

John opened the clinic with a dinner at which he told the riders what they could expect during the following few days. He told them they were responsible for their own safety and if at any point they didn’t feel safe, they had full permission to take a break or opt out of an exercise. He explained that fear plays an important role in keeping us safe. He used the illustration that if your teenage daughter was afraid to get in a car with a drunk driver, you wouldn’t tell her to  “get over it.”  You’d be glad she listened to her common sense. So, too, if you don’t feel ready to do an exercise with your horse, you should listen to the important information your brain is telling you.

On my way through Georgia, I stopped by to visit the first friend. She is an incredible person — good teacher, good horseman, and cancer survivor. She has had 10 operations and countless bouts of chemo. If anyone has reason to whine or let fear of the future get her down, she does, but you don’t hear whining. Instead, her conversations are about her horses, students and garden, enjoying today and looking toward the future. This month she’s focused on making her young horse the best he can be by riding him in lots of situations and in different locations, from working cattle to crossing creeks to riding in a big group of horses. If anyone is suited to help a young horse learn to go forward with confidence, she is.

My second friend has some fear issues when it comes to riding. She has had some good scares, and we all know those things stay with you. She’s a good rider, but she doesn’t want to be scared or for her horse to be upset. She took seriously John’s admonition to “Ride where you can and not where you can’t.” So she rode for part of the clinic, then sat out when she felt she or her horse were too tired or nervous to feel on top of things. During her time on the sidelines, she listened carefully to what was being taught and she watched the other riders. Then, while everyone else was at lunch, she took advantage of the open arena to work on the same exercises the class had done. She didn’t let fear immobilize her. Instead, she found a better way to develop the control that she wanted.

My third friend recently bought a big, young horse who had a rough start in life and a lot of fear. She knew she had her hands full, so she trailered him the 11 hours to get John’s help. She was smart enough to recognize that this wasn’t about looking good at a clinic but making a difference in her horse’s life — and keeping herself safe. The first day, when she ran into difficulty, she wasn’t too proud to ask for help. Then, the next day, after a big scare, she decided to sit out a while. After gathering her thoughts, she took the horse back into the arena and worked him from the ground. She reasoned that he wouldn’t learn the exercise sitting in his stall. That took a lot of guts on her part.

These women were on my amazing people list before the weekend, but seeing how they took responsibility for themselves, handled their apprehensions, and still moved forward toward their goals really inspired me, and I hope it does you. If you’re afraid, don’t beat yourself up, and don’t let anyone bully you into doing something you don’t feel confident doing. Please take a minute to think about John’s advice that fear is a good thing. He says that it’s “common sense in disguise.”

As I walked to the barn, I thought through the events of the last several weeks and absent-mindedly fingered the peppermints that are always in my pocket. We went from nearly 80 degrees to icy cold, and then last weekend to nearly 80 again. I know for people who live in places like Wyoming where they brag about the weather changing every 15 minutes, this may not be impressive, but it represented big swings for us in western North Carolina. Our daffodils pushed on, despite temperature changes.

There were big swings in activities and attitudes, too. It seems that nearly everyone I talk with is stressed — about health or finances — and worried about the future.

Last weekend I attended the spring meeting of Equestrian Ministries International (http://equestrianministries.org). We had a great time as people from around the eastern states gathered to share a love of God and love of horses. The weather was perfect.

We heard some amazing stories, including from Debi Metcalf, founder of Stolen Horse International (http://netposse.com). She told how she and her husband found themselves alone when they discovered their horse, Idaho, had been stolen. Over the course of the next year, they learned of other people who were also looking for stolen horses. And they received an amazing outpouring of love and support from people they had never met who wanted to help. Idaho was found, at the time when things looked the most hopeless. I’m reminded of the cliche that night looks darkest just before dawn. After bringing Idaho home, Debi founded a non-profit to help educate owners about horse theft and to help owners track down stolen horses.

Larry Martin of EMI took us through stories of three Biblical characters, showing how Moses, Elijah, and Isaiah each had a major breakthrough, just at the time when things looked the most bleak. They didn’t have the provisions they needed for the future. But they did have the Provider. (I hope to have that audio on the EMI website next week.)

Removing a peppermint from my pocket, I thought about how some of my ideas have changed over the years. I used to be resistant to the idea of feeding treats to my horse regularly. I saw how people often substituted treats for training, and I saw horses who had a hard time remembering their manners once they knew a treat was at hand. So I opted not to treat.

But I have come to recognize that a little peppermint here and there is a good thing. It helps to bridge a gap, easing some transitions. Instead of getting upset when he has to leave his buddies in the field, my horse Calvin hears the rustle of a peppermint wrapper and is reminded that I’m a buddy, too, and that when we are out of the field, there’s a good chance his provider will produce a peppermint.

As I watch Calvin munching his treat, I’m reminded that I need to be more like him, less affected by the highs and lows and stresses related to things I can’t control. Maybe the peppermints aren’t just for my horse.

Most people who say they don’t want to wear a helmet have reasons that are outdated. Personal preference, though, is never outdated. You want to do what you want to do. I respect that. But if you’re relying on old information, I’d like to shed some light on the subject.

My non-helmet-wearing friends joke about how hard their heads are, but protecting the outside of the head isn’t the primary concern. It’s your brain. When you fall and your head hits the ground, your brain slams against the inside of your hard skull. We’re talking brain injury, not just a skull wound. But when a good helmet hits the ground, it absorbs a lot of that impact and it slows everything down, buying your brain time so it doesn’t hit inside your skull so hard.

Then there’s the argument about helmets being hot and heavy. They are surely warmer than a straw hat — but no where as hot as they used to be. If you haven’t tried one of the newer trail models, you’ll be amazed how light and well-vented they are.

As for comfort, the older helmets did hold hard to your head, but newer ones are adjustable and come in various shapes. Once you get used to wearing these helmets, you really do forget that it’s on.

I talk with experienced riders who say they advocate helmets for beginners and children, but they come from the “old school.” Unfortunately, even old-school riders hit the dirt. Ironically, it’s not just dangerous sports such as jumping or galloping racehorses that put someone at risk. It’s often the experienced rider who tumbles off a steady horse who happens to trip ambling home at the end of the day.

The big risk for head injury has to do with the height from which you fall, not the speed that you’re traveling. A fall from as little as two feet can cause brain injury. And we know that your head is nearly eight feet high when riding a full-sized horse. According to the American Medical Equine Association/Safe Riders Foundation, head injuries account for 20% of all equestrian injuries and 60% of fatalities occur from head injuries. I could toss a whole lot more figures at you, such as that hospital costs for an acute head injury range upwards of $25,000 per day, but I won’t do that.

I will say that the risks are probably higher than you think. It’s not that every fall is life-threatening, but some are. You have to work that out for yourself. But please take care of that hard head of yours.

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