Sarah arrived early the next day, her mind buzzing with questions. She found Hiroshi already in the arena, eyes closed, sitting cross-legged in the center.

 

"You bring thoughts," he said without opening his eyes. "Many, many thoughts. Like noisy birds in your head."

 

Sarah laughed nervously. "I thought you said leave my thoughts at home."

 

"Ah, but noticing you failed is first step to succeeding." His eyes opened, twinkling. "Bring Monarch. Today we learn to listen."

 

Sarah retrieved her horse, expecting some profound training technique. Instead, Hiroshi instructed her to stand beside Monarch, doing nothing. 

 

Minutes ticked by.

 

"This is ridiculous," Sarah finally burst out. "We're just standing here!"

 

"Are we?" Hiroshi raised an eyebrow. "Tell me, what has Monarch done in last five minutes?"

 

"Nothing, he's just—" Sarah stopped, realizing she had no idea. She'd been so busy thinking about what they weren't doing, she hadn't noticed what was actually happening.

 

"Again," Hiroshi said. "This time, be here."

 

Sarah sighed but tried again. This time, she noticed everything.

 

How Monarch shifted his weight every few minutes. The rhythm of his breathing. The way his ears flicked at arena sounds. The subtle tension in his poll when doors slammed in the distance.

 

"Now you begin to ride," Hiroshi nodded approvingly.

 

"But I'm not even in the saddle!"

 

"Exactly. Already you ride better standing still than moving with busy mind." He gestured for her to mount. "Bring this seeing into saddle."

 

What followed was the strangest training session of Sarah's life. No drilling movements. No fixing problems. Just walking, feeling, noticing. When her mind wandered to her upcoming show, Hiroshi would clap once, sharply, bringing her back.

 

"Your body knows how to ride," he explained as they finished. "But mind must get out of way. Tomorrow, we put together watching and doing.

 

Today, you learn that stillness is not nothing – stillness is everything."

As Sarah untacked Monarch, she noticed he seemed different. Softer somehow. More connected.

 

"Hiroshi," she called as he turned to leave. "How long did you train the imperial horses?"

 

He smiled mysteriously. "Time is strange thing. Sometimes, forty years feels like single moment. Sometimes, single moment contains forty years of wisdom. Question is: which moment are you living in?"

 

Sarah drove home pondering his words, realizing that for the first time in months, she wasn't thinking about tomorrow's training or next month's show.

 

She was simply appreciating the quiet contentment in her body, the lingering feeling of connection with Monarch, and the strange sensation that she'd learned something profound – even though they'd hardly "done" anything at all.

 

Sarah was starting to realize that in stillness comes power.