Dyno move - or Flip Side of the Coin

Today's lesson is going to be one big analogy and not a lot of description about what we were actually doing, but bear with me for the explanation why. Ok, this summer, as we progressed into 2nd level movements, it dawned on me that I have been, perhaps, fudging the basics. I am the walking, talking example of why going the long route is the short route as we re-start my basics and undo my bad habits. That means that over the last month, I have spent my time riding thinking this: 1. toes in; 2. heels down; 3. legs forward; 4. hips open; 5. stomach tight (keeps my back from being sway back); 6. shoulders up and down (slide my shoulder blades down my back); 7. stomach tight (I have to do it again after my shoulders); 8. hands even (horizontal and vertical plane); and 9. elbows on hips. What this did was neglect the other basics - moving forward and not slogging around the arena, so today's lesson brought that to the forefront. We ignored my stupid heels and worked on Charlie moving forward. This is what I both love and hate about riding. I love that it is always a challenge - that there is always room to grow. But I hate how I can have been riding for 20 years and still need a lesson on moving a horse forward. I KNOW that if you could get to Grand Prix after 5 years of riding, I would have quit riding at year 6, but sometimes I wonder whether I'm the worst rider in the universe that at 20 years, I'm still working on what feels like basics. So I have to look for objective information, and what I'm going to focus on here is the training pyramid and impulsion. But I think the training pyramid should really be a training staircase - or, more realistically, a dyno board. I used to do a lot of rock climbing, and one of my least favorite exercises were pull-ups on the dyno board. You'd hang from it and do a pull up, then launch yourself up one level and do a pull-up on a slightly smaller grip, then launch yourself up and do a pull-up on just your fingertips, etc. And making the jump from one stage of the pyramid to the next is kind of like this wall, and you're beating your head against it, and then you figure out how to leap, fall off, and then leap again until you get the grip and scramble up. Then you fall off again, but this time you climb up faster. So the flip side of the coin is that I ride for the challenge, but I also prefer the times when I'm victorious on top of the step. But after a little while up there, I'm ready for the next step. And the tricky part is that you can't really see the steps above you until you're on them - you think you're doing ok because you can't see just how many steps there are. At least, I have. It feels like I have been beating my head against this particular step for a year now. While I'm glad to be improving (now I know the step is there, which I did not know two years ago), I'm ready to be scrambling onto that step instead of still looking at it. Today's lesson was a good example of how I'm standing at the base of it looking up. At the end of the lesson, I have a few glimpses of the top of the step, but I am completely incapable of describing what I DO when I ride to get that feeling. When I am alone, getting that feeling is the exception rather than the rule, but I can now get it every once in a while. And I recognize it when it's there, but I don't know to get it. So that means I can't really describe what we did today. I know it's the step, and I like how it feels on the top, and it's the essential next step, I just wish the reward was coming a little faster.