Score!

The Blue Angel horse show this past weekend was simply fantastic. All of the Forever Sky riders did exceptionally well, and we are so proud of them. In the midst of all that pride, as well as the laughing, tacking, joking, riding, and running around with Forever Sky T-shirts like a big green cult, there was always one focus.

"What was your score?" you would hear again and again, as each rider came back, carrying a ribbon and her dressage test in hand.

Scores.

We've dealt with them all our lives. Numbers that can have a lasting impact on us. Numbers that might not mean a thing, and numbers that mean everything.

My two sons--twins, age six--are constantly in a race. They each want to get their clothes on first, brush their teeth first, enter or exit first.... They are sometimes so violent about it that I start to wonder if that's why the last couple of weeks of my pregnancy were so difficult. Were they fighting to see who would be born first too?

I find myself literally pulling my hair to keep from screaming at them, but today as I watched them argue about who should have their cereal poured first, I laughed. I know that their desire to "win" is a natural part of their makeup, as frustrating as it is for me. But what they don't realize yet is that winning is complicated. Sometimes we actually lose when we win, and sometimes we win when we lose.

I've always believed that we learn more by losing than by winning. When you tote a blue ribbon around--or an A on a paper or test--you feel like you're on top of the world. You're the best. You're great. You WON. And when you get that A or blue ribbon, you are less likely to pay attention to any criticism that comes with it, criticism that would make whatever you are doing better.

I think that's why I really like the way dressage tests are scored. Leslie got her first 60 this weekend, and she was bouncing around like a rabbit on amphetamines. Okay, maybe she wasn't THAT hyped up, but she was pretty darn happy.

(Side comment: Congratulations, Leslie!! You and Barney were awesome!)

Back in "the day" (why do people say that, btw?), if I had made a 60 on a test, I would have been horrified. Even 90s were out of the question at my house. If I got a 97, my mom would ask, "What happened to the other 3 points?" Some people have thought those words were a bit harsh, but they weren't. My mom taught me to believe I could always do better. Of course she was happy with my 97, that was a given, but she kept me working to achieve my very best, and I thank her for it every day. Forever Sky probably wouldn't exist had she never asked about those missing points.

What is interesting about the scores on dressage tests is that NOBODY expects to get a 100 on their test. Even the idea of an 80 or 90 is laughable. "In dressage," says Alexis, "if you are consistently scoring in the upper 60s and lower 70s, it's time for you to move on to the next level."

I like that.

No person can ever be perfect. No horse can ever be perfect. Certainly no horse and rider combination can be perfect. And so dressage teaches us to look for the commentary on the test, to look for how we can do better instead of whether or not we got the highest score, or the blue ribbon.

Yes, it's true, some of my Forever Sky family walked away with blue ribbons this weekend, but you know what they were focused on--the commentary on the test, not the ribbon. They were interested in how they could improve their riding.

I want to improve my riding, of course. But I am most interested in how I can improve Forever Sky Ranch. When I am at the ranch, I see all those missing points. And I plan to work for those points hard.

So if you're out at Forever Sky for a visit, you might suddenly hear someone shout "SCORE!" No need for concern. That will be me, hands in the air, happy to have accomplished one more thing to make the ranch a better place for my FSR family and their horses.