Curiosity Instead of Repetition: Avoid Drilling After the Perfect One

There is a moment in training where everything aligns for a heartbeat.The horse becomes light, clear, balanced, and powerful.The movement feels connected, the rhythm flows,and for a second — it feels perfect.

And exactly here, many of us fall into the same very human reflex: we want to feel it again.

But horses don’t learn in the repetition of that perfect moment.They learn in the space after it —in the pause, the breath, the release,in the quiet affirmation that they found the right answer.

“Curiosity instead of repetition” means not chasing, not drilling, not polishing the perfect one until the magic is gone.

It means letting the moment land, and then staying open and attentive to what unfolds next.

Why Drilling the Perfect Moment Makes It Disappear

When something feels perfect to us, we become excited.

We want confirmation. We want to repeat it. We want to celebrate it by doing it again.

But for the horse, the perfect one is not an invitation for more —it is a completion, a resolution.

Drilling after that moment quietly tells the horse:“Not that one. Try again.”

And the emotional shift is immediate:

• concentration drops,

• the horse starts guessing,

• clarity turns into confusion,

• motivation softens,

• the body becomes tighter rather than freer.

What once felt easy, powerful, and connected disappears under the pressure of repetition.

Curiosity: The Pathway to Beauty, Ease, and Growth

Curiosity does something repetition cannot:

it keeps the horse thinking, searching, and engaged.

It sounds like:

• “That was beautiful — let’s breathe now.”

• “You understood — let’s see what happens next.”

• “That is enough for today.”

And sometimes, the most powerful message of all:

Ending the session right after the perfect moment.

There is no bigger release for a horse than this.Nothing pinpoints the correct answer more clearly than:

• the work dissolving,

• the halter loosening,

• the human softening,

• the energy settling,

• the horse being truly done.

  
  

Ending the session is the ultimate reward. It tells the horse:

“You understood me perfectly.This is exactly what I hoped for.”

And because this message lands so deeply, something remarkable happens:

The horse remembers.

The horse offers it sooner next time.

The horse offers it more beautifully.

Stopping after the perfect moment for this special horse and day creates a learning memory that drilling could never achieve.

Curiosity, not repetition, is what turns a single good moment into a reliable, elegant, and joyful piece of the horse’s repertoire.

Three Clean Loops: A Gentle Framework for Loopy Training

To turn this philosophy into practical training, I return again to loopy training.

Each loop consists of:

→ request→ try→ response→ reward / release→ reset→ next loop

Here is the guiding principle:

Strive for three clean loops — then change something.

“Clean” does not mean perfect. It means:

• clear,

• confident,

• coordinated,

• without tension,

• without losing balance or understanding.

• 
  

And importantly:

Clean loops are defined by the horse’s individual ability and level of education.

For one horse, a clean loop might be a single balanced step.

For another, several fluent trot strides.

For another, a soft, thinking halt.

For another, a smooth flying change.

After three clean loops, you have choices:

• stop completely,

• switch to something easy,

• let the horse cruise on their own feet,

• or shift to another layer of the exercise.

  
  

But you don’t chase the fourth or fifth loop if the quality begins to crumble.

Because the horse is already telling you:

• the challenge is high enough,

• the basic components are not fully confirmed,

• or the concentration window is closing.

This isn’t failure —it’s valuable information.

Three clean loops keep the work honest, fresh, light, and progressive.

Training as an Evolving Conversation

Curiosity turns training into a dialogue.

Drilling turns it into instruction.

When we choose curiosity over repetition, horses stay willing, thoughtful, and beautifully alive in the work.

And the perfect moment becomes:

• easier to reach,

• easier to repeat on another day,

• and most importantly —something the horse seeks with us, not for us.

This is the quiet art of training:

not chasing perfection,

but shaping the space in which it can appear

again and again —with more ease, more beauty, and more connection.