While the number of conscious riders and instructors of various riding styles is thankfully steadily increasing, certain dogmas unfortunately still persist in some places. These range from ambitious riding lessons that aim for a “swinging” seat with command-like instructions, to misconceptions such as the idea that horses “go against the bit” when the rider hasn’t pulled hard enough in front and pushed hard behind. Such simplistic instructions or judgments about the rider and horse quickly convey authority (anyone who teaches so confidently must know what they’re doing…) or quick fixes (using the rider’s hand, a tight rein, or a whip…), but they ignore the actual causes of complex movement and communication problems, which often arise from ignorance or misunderstood training approaches.
Teaching and training horses for the well-being of the horse means, as a trainer, seeing the rider and horse as a whole and acting accordingly. It means breaking free from rigid doctrines and instead adopting a dynamic, situation-dependent approach. This means considering the animal’s daily condition, history, body proportions, acquired talents, the interrelationships between individual aspects, and even the awareness that one simply cannot know all the background information (none of us has X-ray vision, and unfortunately, no one possesses absolute wisdom). These factors should be incorporated into every action taken. A high standard, one might think – but shouldn’t it apply everywhere one works with living beings, “owns” them, and handles them with at least 55 kilos of weight?
Especially in horse training, it is essential to constantly remind ourselves that we are dealing with a prey animal whose survival strategy relies on keen perception, rapid reaction, and movement. Every form of training and handling interferes with this sensitive system. At worst, any aids are a manipulation of the horse’s body, a shift in its weight distribution, and a wear and tear on supporting structures. At best, they improve its physical condition and fitness. Therefore, our responsibility to apply stimuli in a way that provides guidance rather than creating uncertainty, and ideally contributes to long-term health, is all the greater. Training should never be about “imposing” a human-imposed idea, but rather a collaborative learning process in which the horse understands why it is doing something and can sense that it returns to the stable with greater physical and mental well-being.
Due to the lack of movement that often prevails even in the best trail riding conditions—compared to nature—it is also our responsibility to develop strength and balance in our own horses. Only in this way can we realistically balance the fluctuating rider’s weight in all turns and at all speeds, or, if the horse is not being ridden, remain fit well into old age. Perhaps it’s helpful to recognize that this process is about what we once called collection—and not about pulling or squeezing out. Collection means gathering oneself, centering oneself, in order to then freely express something beautiful from within.
Gathering—something that is stimulated by an inner attitude or an external impulse, but in any case, it directs attention inward. Carefully selected exercises strengthen the stabilizing muscles close to the horse’s core, rather than rushed, levering, or leaning compensatory movements, which lead to premature wear and tear on bone and tissue structures. This quality of movement arises not from haste, but from repetition, pauses, and the right level of challenge.
How can I help a horse center itself? How can I truly understand giving aids as help—genuine support—and not as the application of force? Can I “force” a pedestrian who is standing thoughtfully on the sidewalk to cross the street? Yes, I can try, but depending on the pedestrian’s personality, I can expect to encounter resistance ranging from mild to severe. In horses, this resistance to crossing boundaries manifests as “stubbling” and is a reaction to forceful aids.
“Holding on tight” can also signify an initial lack of muscular strength. Imagine how heavy it can feel to hold someone crossing the street who lacks the strength to walk. Similarly, an inadequately trained riding horse tries to balance itself against the increased centrifugal forces exerted by the rider when turning. In this case, biomechanically sound and well-considered aids from the rider are needed to gradually achieve collection and core stabilization in order to maintain the horse’s long-term health. Patience is not a nice bonus here, but a fundamental requirement.
These aids, however, have nothing to do with pulling back on the reins or applying pressure with the leg, but rather with very subtle shifts in balance within the horse’s capabilities in any given situation. It’s like a kind of body dialogue: Try doing it a little more like this? – And do you notice how much easier we can make the turn now?
If I apply sudden or sustained, firm pressure to living tissue, it will protect itself, harden, and consequently become blocked in its movement or eventually stop responding altogether. However, if I give the horse an easily executable directional cue that immediately releases at the slightest initiative, it will perceive the aid as genuine assistance and gratefully accept it (especially if the extra muscular effort is rewarded with a treat!).
Provided the rider’s suggested direction was sensible, the horse will gradually develop inner strength and carrying capacity. After some time, this becomes that feeling in the calf or fingers of the rein hand where the horse moves effortlessly in all directions at the rider’s beck and call because it has developed inner stability. This feeling cannot be forced – it arises as a result of the rider’s clarity, timing, and respect for the horse’s physical capabilities.
Provided the rider’s suggested direction was also sensible, the horse will gradually develop inner strength and carrying capacity. In the spirit of holistic, horse-friendly training, it is logical that this inner muscular strength is also closely linked to the horse’s “inner attitude”—its self-confidence. Building one strength also strengthens the other, and vice versa. A horse that feels physically secure will also move more freely mentally, take on new tasks, and face challenges with greater composure.
Therefore, all confidence-building exercises and impulses for gradual collection should be presented in small steps to create as many positive experiences as possible for the horse. Success here does not mean perfection, but understanding. Liveliness in mind and movement are mutually dependent, which is why the horse’s courage and initiative should always be encouraged, provided that this does not create dangerous situations for the human. This initiative makes horses proud and present, and is immediately reflected in the quality of their movement.
All of this constitutes a training approach for the well-being of the horse—individually tailored exercises and interventions that place both the horse’s psychological and physical well-being at the center. Rider competence lies not in “getting the right way,” but in reading the horse: in recognizing its signals, its limits, and its willingness. It is demonstrated by knowing which impulse will help the horse at any given moment and how much of it is necessary—and equally by knowing when to refrain from acting and to analyze one’s own impulse or allow it to unfold naturally.
This requires a holistic perspective, experiential knowledge, empathy, an understanding of biomechanical relationships, and the deep conviction that the horse reacts appropriately in every situation. And that ultimately, it is always up to us to create the conditions that enable learning, maintain health, and allow the horse to develop trust in the shared journey.
Conclusion
Horse training for the horse’s well-being requires letting go of rigid dogmas and adopting an individualized, situation-specific approach.
Rider and horse must be considered as a unit, whose physical, mental, and emotional needs must always be taken into account.
The goal of training is not control or coercion, but rather inner balance, core stability, carrying capacity, and long-term health, which manifests itself in supple, natural movements.
Collection means centering and inner muscular strength – no excessively tilted pelvis or over-flexed poll, no pulling, pushing, or squeezing.
Aids are horse-friendly when they are supportive and subtly applied, and not manipulative.
Resistance and stiffness in the horse are warning signals, not faulty behavior, and indicate overexertion, lack of strength, or misunderstandings.
Biomechanically sound, well-planned exercises (using songbird weights) promote both physical stability and self-confidence.
Trust, initiative, and positive learning experiences are essential building blocks for fluid, healthy movement patterns.
Rider competence is demonstrated by reading the horse, precise timing, and taking responsibility for its well-being.
Johanna Thanheiser

