The Trail Less Traveled

As I pick up my old Grey gelding's hooves to trim them and know that I have the honor of owning this part in keeping his health and soundness, I think about the first time I tried to trim a hoof. I had lost my farrier, and clumsily attempted to wield my tools and wrestle with my horse, realizing quickly the difficulty of the task, I shortly gave up and looked in the phone book again. When I think about my  lack of ability and knowledge at the time, I am amazed that I know and do what I do now. Of course I believe it was this very awkward attempt that led me to the woman who taught me so much about hoof trimming. 

So many things in my life have impacted the path I have found myself on. And there is constantly a choice and a crossroads. 

Recently the new barn and indoor have been completed,  and plans and wheels have been turning to organize the facility to offer therapeutic services that use horses to help people. I came to learn about this work and gained friends and associates that have guided me on this path about 7 years ago. Somewhere I probably never envisioned myself to be, but yet somehow always knew.

One of the first events held here was a clinic taught by a man who promotes assisting the horse with learning how to release his body in order to use it more efficiently and powerfully. As I worked with him and my young horse, he guided me in using my energy to release her back and emotional blocks. He gave me confirmation in using a skill that I knew that I had but haven't really practiced. One of the things that he stated was that the kidney area where she was holding tension is the area that fear is held in our bodies. The next day I took my pony for a walk out in the back field and suddenly felt a sharp pain in my left kidney. I recognized that this was probably not my pain, rather I was empathizing with her on a physical level. I cleared the energy from her back and loin and had the thought that it might result in urination. Then there was that space.  That space of following a gut instinct and not knowing whether it really made any difference.  This space was so familiar and I know it is the space I had been wallowing in. Doubting, hiding, and falling back on old habits. We took a few strides further into our walk and my mare squatted to pee.

Strange story, I know. But what it left me with was confirmation.  There are places that I can make a difference in ways that I am meant to make difference.  There are lessons to learn and voices to hear on a path that you can't ignore just because they may not sound like everyone else's. Or because you can't find them in school or the parameters of the office.

People don't learn and grow the same. And there are so many places on the path to get stuck, to doubt,  to get fouled up by what someone else says or thinks. And the path continues to bring new things to light. A path is something that is meant to keep you moving. Loitering about is against the rules.

My hope is to bring to this beautiful new space that I am working in the possibility that people get to find themselves.  Their true selves. Through psychotherapy, and trauma work, and horses.  And through whatever it takes. Because to me, that is what therapy is. It's the opportunity to get connected to oneself in a way that you can heal yourself. Through being whole. And I can't offer this to people unless I'm willing to take the path I have set out on. Maybe it's less traveled,  but I know there are plenty of guides along the way.

Letting Go....... Again and Again

The scene is a sufficiently cold New Year's Day, on horseback (of course) with an old friend on the trail and new 2.5 year old Arabian filly being ponied at my side. That's the way I like to spend New Year's, appreciating the old and taking on the new adventures. And this gorgeous, intelligent, sensitive, and spunky little black filly, by the name of Isis, is obviously chock full of new lessons for me. But as is appropriate, this introductory lesson she gives me on this day is really a reiteration of an old one. (See "Letting Go"-2011)

We were walking the back dirt roads behind the mill pond, and had gotten a bit lost, but were heading back to the trailers. It was getting to be dusk soon. Everyone else in the area was ready to head home to, so a few trucks began to go by. It was a tight road and we pulled over to the side. To our trusty  trail horses this was old hat, but little Isis thought jumping in the air and scooting around was her only option.  I held the rope tighter to keep her close and safe. Another truck came by, same thing. I knew three times makes a pattern,  and horses love patterns. I didn't want this unconfident behavior to be what my  little horse learned, so I began to rethink my strategy. As the next happy park visitor began to roll out, I thought about my horse's typically very investigative and thoughtful way, and I realized that she was probably upset because she couldn't see the trucks coming up behind her. So there, when that last truck came by, on that tight little wooded road, instead of holding on tighter to try to keep my mare safe, I loosened the rope to give her the room so she could turn her head to see. And she watched the truck roll by with calm curiosity.

Horses are constantly teaching us these counterintuitive lessons of letting go. As upright, verbal, opposable thumb owning predators, we learn to think that holding on is the best way, or the only way. Horses don't have thumbs, or words, but they do have intention and space. A lead mare can clear a horse from the herd from across the field,  and can keep a frantic racing herd together without touching, without ropes and halters. But for some reason, humans think the more control, the better. Control of others, control of our life, control of our emotions. Until we realize it is an illusion. The fact is, humans aren't built like horses. We need to practice letting go.

I guarantee you that ten years ago, I would not have thought to loosen that rope for my horse to see the truck. But I've been practicing being a horseman worthy of the horse, and loosening my rope has become slightly more of a habit than holding on to it.

In my life there's always opportunities to practice letting go.  Letting go of a thought, an expectation, a habit. Not trying to make it go away -that's more of the same.  But giving it the space to be, like a horse sees another horse. Setting my intention and allowing the beings around me to do as they see fit. And then the next moment doing it again. Noticing when I try to take back control, and then letting go again.

Like tossing rose petals into the air to watch them fall around you. And once they fall, tossing up another handful.

There will be another day, another horse, another rope to let go. And perhaps I will. There will be a million chances every day to let go of the ropes and even chains that I've held on to in my life. And maybe eventually, with continued practice,  I will play without ropes.

The Hard Way

The horses on this farm have lived for over ten years like horses. No barn, no stalls, no tack room, no feed room, no blankets or buckets of mash on a cold night. Just pasture, grass, a few trees, water and a little bit of shelter. This means that the humans who love these horses have had to live with the same inconveniences. So it's been trudging through snow drifts lugging buckets of feed, tending to sick horses in the dark, and managing all aspects of horsemanship in the rain, heat, snow, windstorm and bugs. Though it is a great deal of work and sacrifice, I have found there is something about this way of living with a herd of horses that is very rewarding. 

A new beautiful barn and indoor arena is up and on its way to being finished and drastically changing the way of doing things around here. And though it's an extremely exciting dream come true, honestly,  it makes me a little sad. For many years we have lived in our horses world. All our activities have been in their space and in their way. We've had to do it the hard way, and in doing that had to be flexible.  We've never gotten to throw a horse in a stall when they have moved to the farm, we've had to work with the herd and listen to what they needed to assimilate. Vet visits and hoof trimmings have all happened with a few good buddies standing by in support. Deaths and illnesses in the same manner. We've had to manage our herd in a way that takes into account who they are. And we've built an incredible herd bond because of it. 

I'd say if there's a word to describe how we've been in doing it the hard way, it's humility. Something draws a line in our relationship with horses when we bring them into our world and do things our way.  They become the beasts of burden, made to live how is convenient for us. When we live more naturally their way, we become the beasts of burden, and what a lesson that is.

My point here is nothing about how we keep our horses, rather in who we be when life hands us difficult circumstances.  I've seen a huge difference in people who fret over having to do something the hard way, and in those who handle it with grace and humility. One definition of humility is "having a clear perspective and respect for one's place in context." In other words, the understanding that things are perfect as they are, and being present to the learning opportunity available.  

Doing it the hard way for so long has had its difficulties, but what we leave it with is an invaluable understanding of who our horses are, and who we are to them. This chance we had to be open to a different way of being and learn from our horses has left me looking for a way to keep the spirit of who we are with our horses alive even though our circumstances are apparently improving. Having a clear perspective and respect for one's place in context leaves an openness for all matter of lessons no matter where one is in life. This gives us the opportunity to move to the next place in life better suited for its own challenges and lessons, and hopefully with more gratefulness for what we have, and what got us there.

How Not to Hide your Hiney

Sometimes the nature of humanity breaks my heart. Like when I see people that I care about doing things over and over that simply don’t work. It’s human nature to get stopped in life, and even stuck from time to time. It's easy to look at someone else and think that we can shake them out of it. And then I find myself stopped and stuck, and I feel what that mucky mire is that’s got me weighed down dripping from my boots. Shame.

Shame is an aspect of humanity that seems to me like the most underaddressed big ugly beast of them all. It is so debilitating. One definition of Shame is,  “A pervasive, negative emotional state, usually originating in childhood, marked by chronic self-reproach and a sense of personal failure.” Ew. So murky and sticky. But don’t for a moment think that you don’t find yourself loving to live there. It’s like a deep dark magnetic vortex, so easy to be sucked into.

Reminds me of a technique that is often used in horsemanship, especially with young or naughty horses, of teaching that horse to turn and face the human, providing an aspect of safety and respect. They learn to “hide their hiney”. Such is the definition of Guilt. To put it in human terms, it is understanding the difference between right and wrong and being willing to apologize, show respect, and restore the relationship. This is the purpose of this game.

But sometimes, horses get stuck. They start to think that the ONLY thing for them to do is turn and face. Perhaps a fumbling or fearful human has built this into them, and soon you have an animal whose sole built purpose in life is moving forward, completely stopped. This is the danger of Shame.

I have found myself there many times. Most recently was most frustrating, because I knew what it was holding me back. I knew that there was something that I had neglected to do to the standard expected of myself, and proceeded to beat myself up over it. I thereby avoided any forward progress. Some good friends reminded me of what I already knew, and then I saw what was missing: the circle. I was so focused on the problem and on hiding my hiney about it, that I forgot what I was there for- to make a brilliant difference.

Focusing on the problem and on the shame more, and on trying to make something right is not the answer. Getting connected to your commitment, goal, and purpose is. If a horse or human lives its life in fear of his hiney getting smacked, then life will look like simply trying to avoid a problem, a fear, or a negative interaction. I want my horse to find comfort and connection in a soft rhythmic pace on the circle, and I want to carry that into anything that we do anywhere, being free to connect from any angle, distance or speed. I want to be able to do that with myself and my connection to life as well. That can only be found in the trying and in the living.

One of the first rules in horsemanship is “look where you are going.” If a horse forgets what it means to be a horse, well then they don't make a very good horse. When a person forgets what it means to be a human, and finds themselves staring down the big heavy stick of failure, well then they stop moving forward. Somehow, whether it be through personal reflection and persistence, or a good friend dragging you out of it, the human needs to peel his eyes off the problem and direct his gaze back to the circle before he can move forward. And I promise, it’s a better view.

 

It works if you work it, so work it, your worth it......

 

 

Look into the circle, chin aligned with chest, outside rein, bump bump bump, outside leg, squeeze, inside leg squeeze, use your seat, more seat, ONE two THREE four ONE two THREE four, relax that left arm, outside leg, no LEG.... not heel, outside rein, bump bump bump, ONE two THREE four ONE two THREE four, more seat, stretch your spine, chin over chest, look into the circle, inside rein....bump bump bump,  inside LEG, more, more, ok, good, nice, use that seat, ONE two THREE four, outside leg, no...LEG, Stand up, Sit down, thumbnails forward, don't cross the line, outside rein, outside rein, OUTSIDE REIN, LEG, LEG, SEAT, SEAT....ONE two THREE four......

Ever dared to have a dressage lesson? This ain't no trail ride baby! This is WORK! I could just keep riding my horse how I was riding her. We were doing perfectly fine, lovely in fact. But I saw what was missing, and it was time to take it to the next level.

As my legs started to get frustrated and my fingers got confused, I remembered how I got up at six am several mornings a week to clean horse stalls for this, because as my teacher so cleverly quoted, “Anything worth doing is hard work.” And as I finally got to rest my horse, and my legs, and seat and brain, I got present to how this feeling was not uncommon for me in my current place in life.

I am currently in a transformational leadership program which has me blowing the lid off of who I have known myself to be and what I think I am capable of. And it looks alot like a dressage lesson.

Share yourself, be in integrity, create a powerful context, be bold, be BOLD, be vivid, be the cause, clean your house, clean your car, show up on time, show up on time, get it all done, restore integrity, play a big game, share, share, share vividly, be BOLD, make a difference, no MAKE a difference, powerful context, BIG game, face yourself...in the mirror, be excited, be MORE excited, be GREAT, breakdown, be the cause, breakthrough,share, share, share......

It’s intensity, caused by intentionality. And I COULD just keep living my life how I was living it. It was perfectly fine, lovely in fact. But something was missing, and it was time to blow up “fine”.

Because anything worth doing is hard work. Or, said another way, work hard at anything worth doing, and soon the work only appears as worth.

Higher Standards

One of the greatest things that I love about horses is that a horse knows what you know and knows what you don’t know, and a wise horse that is committed to it’s job in life will not let it’s human get away with less than what it knows.  A lesson from these beings is  one of the most valuable things about a partnership, being an opportunity for one partner to hold the other accountable in the relationship. Accountability for our best is how we learn and grow.

I had spent a pretty peaceful winter with my Lucy. I had been learning a lot about the ability to be soft and effective, and had not so much has carried a stick with me in playing on the ground with her in months. We had gotten increasingly connected in our work using energy, conversations about space, intention, and clear mental pictures. All something I think that both her and I were very happy with. Soft effective communication and partnership is very exciting!

Last week there was a lovely warm day, one of the first of its kind, and I got inspired by spring. I decided it would be fun for Lucy and I to up our game a bit from over the winter, and work on some fancier things. I carried my stick for this. We worked on going one direction, and all went beautifully, in fact it was some of the most fancy, controlled movement, I have ever gotten from her. Very exciting! We went the other direction then, and as it is with animals with bilateral vision, one side is generally different from the other. It was a little more difficult for her to step under herself with her left hind leg, and I gently encouraged her to do so by touching her hip with my stick. Now keep in mind, this was a kind, encouraging touch, not unlike I typically would ask her to do something. It was very soft and light.

But up in the air she went, and out like a rocket. Kicking, bucking and tearing around in that circle, tossing her head, followed by more bucks and a high tailed gallop. Typically just an easy word will bring her down from any upset, but not this time. Lucy was acting like she had clearly had it. After we got settled back down again, I began to laugh at my pretty girl and the ruckus that my little tap had caused. It felt like she was saying to me in a huff, “I can't believe you would do that! You know you don't need to do that!”

I recently began an intensive leadership program, and even knowing the benefits that I would get from the program, I went into my decision kicking and screaming. As I sat in my first weekend and got present to what was really there for me to be, I realized that I had resisted stepping forward into my leadership in my life because then people might expect that from me. We shrink from being the person in life that we secretly know lies like a little gem inside of us. This is a thing to be examined.

I knew as I sat there that in just being there I had already stepped in, and that excellence does not occur from sitting on the sidelines accepting status quo. The good news is that the people with me will hold me accountable, and stand up for me to be the leader that I have said I would, just like my beautiful horse won’t stand for me to be less of a horseman than she knows me to be.

What areas of your life do you know that there are to step into, but haven’t been allowing yourself to for fear of what incredible things you might accomplish, or might amazing things you could be? Don’t be limited by what you think you should be or by what you have been already. Once growth happens, you can never go back.

 

 

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

― Marianne Williamson

Peace of Mind

I went to the pasture today after a long time gone. I missed my ponies. As I was just standing there enjoying their presence I became aware of how quiet it was. This seemed strange and abnormal to me.  The pasture is usually a peaceful place that I can find solace. But this was not the usual kind of quiet. There were still birds and cars and noises. Then I realized that the quiet was in my head.

It’s been a long time since I’ve put my lessons down on paper, or screen that is.  The past year has been like nothing that I have ever thought that I would experience. I’ve had the heartbreak of my life, my world turned upside down, and then found an amazing educational program that has begun to show me the answers to the questions of my humanity that I have held for as long as I can remember. That’s the short version.

The lessons I have been getting from my life and my horses this past year have been way too intense to formulate into words. They have been immense lessons which I am sure will someday make their way from my cerebral cortex into my spoken language. But it seems like the dust is beginning to settle, and once again, I can see more clearly the lessons in the communication that I am receiving from my beautiful  equine friends.

As I am standing there in that peaceful moment in the pasture today, realizing that the quiet was in my head, I got a glimpse of what it must be like to be a horse. I realized that there were only two things in that moment that existed. Action, and Communication. There were no thoughts, opinions, rackets, and other forms of blah blah blah. Just Action and Communication.

Its tough to get out of my head sometimes. Well, really most of the time. I often think that if I simply wrote down all the stories in my head, I could be a very successful teen fiction author. There’s lots of drama up there. It can be fun sometimes, but it doesn’t work for a real life. Turns out that the only things that contribute to a real life are Action and Communication.

It would be great to be a horse and have it all come so naturally. But as humans, what comes most naturally to us is thinking, and over thinking, and making up stuff, and processing it, and worrying, and stressing, and making up more stuff, and making that stuff mean something. It can be very noisy. But the good news that is the more that we get out of our heads and into communication, or into action, the quieter it can become.

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