Woot Woot! Train Willig coming through!

For today's "jump" lesson, I wanted to experiment with the theory that what Willig is a bit difficult about doesn't have anything to do with the fences, per se, but the visuals (rails on the ground, things under the fence, i.e. his "scary stuff" box).
We put my box and some cones out, and then I waited to warm up until Shannon got out, so that she could also give me pointers on how to warm up properly, because in previous lessons, both she and Mike have pointed out that I kind of "blah" along for a while before we really get to work.
During this, I also asked about why Willig seems so comfortable - in fact, curious - about stuff when I'm on the ground, but then finds it scary when I'm on him. This goes along with the whole "get off to cross the ditch". When he sees me do it first, it builds his confidence. Just horse nature.
So we warmed up, and Shannon did say to tighten him up a bit, not to let him go long and low with his head or to get strung out and go fast, but other than the normal amount of huffing and puffing that accompanies a lesson (and not when I ride by myself), it was fairly non-eventful even though this was like the fourth day of snow.
Then we started going past the scary stuff. I'd ride past it with the crop on the side that I expected him to shy to (i.e. in my left hand if we were passing something with his right eye), and the take away message here was: (drum roll) I ride like a passenger, not the conductor of Train Willig. Even though I'd see him start to look, and start to bend, and start to move away, it wasn't until Shannon would yell at me that I'd react. I could feel it coming an entire 1/4 circle away, and yet would do nothing until she told me to. I'm soooo passive. It's weird.
So then she moved stuff around and eventually brought in the Gator and a snow shovel (which was more scary than the Gator, fyi) and we went past it both directions at the trot and the canter and lo and behold, if I was consistent and assertive, Willig would go past it. He might bend a tiny amount, or do that gawky eyeball roll towards it, but if I was being the boss, he'd be the horse. Go figure.
Then we switched to the scary side, and did a new exercise, where we made 10 meter circles down the long line to the scary side. This added a new element of also going back past the pile of scary things but from a different angle. Again, riding him assertively, confidently, and consistently meant less hassle for both of us. What was weird again was how much I'm reluctant to use the whip or my voice. And when I do use it, I usually forget to praise when he does it right. And then I frequently use it ahead of time (once I get "whip" into my repetoire) instead of immediately after he's bad. And when he gets himself a bit worked up, it takes me a while to turn him (away from the side he's being bad to) and then I like to just stop, instead of working him harder. So if he's trying to canter off left like a jerk, then I turn him right and make him do a tiny canter circle several times so that it is more work to be a jerk than to just go where I wanted us to go in the first place.
So - this gave me a lot to work on, but I ended the lesson feeling, kind of bizarrely, really good. Even though I got Willig with the (now I feel stupid writing this) goal of riding him at Training Level or higher, and we're now going on the flat past a pile of crap, the light bulb went off for me on the stuff we've been working on over fences for a year (or more) now. I'm not RIDING him to the fence. I can work during the week, by myself, on these consistent firm aids and praise, and maybe, just maybe, it's been my three years of being a pansy that has made him fearful of the fences (although I think he's a bit of a goof and probably always going to be unreliable to a degree), and if I can undo that and teach him that never mind, I am the boss after all, and he can trust me, maybe in a few months, once we've mastered it on the flat, we can go back to trying it over fences. Because he is gorgeous when he's in the air. It's just the stuff on the ground that's the problem. And it's not him - it's me. I've got to learn to ride this.
Note to parents everywhere: invest in a good trainer for your kid. In the long run, it will pay off.