Me & sweet Dill at Equessence in Durham, NC
June 2013
This horse did NOT bite me!
http://equessence.com

In 2007, I was in the midst of a deep healing journey.

I was clinically depressed with severe anxiety and unable to function.

I was desperate and trying anything that may help me.

Back then, I tried a session of equine therapy – horse therapy – in an attempt to gain insight into how I was contributing to my own internal fears and how I came into relationship with others.

Horses are extremely sensitive and intuitive animals. Keen feelers. Keen observers. Horses reflect back human emotions.

If I put out BS, a horse responds in kind. If I feel fear or am not fully present with myself, a horse won’t cooperate.

A horse reflects back my inner experience.

In 2007, my task was to work with the horse to lift up his back left hoof. I watched others with ease and success lift up the horse’s hoof.

When I approached and tried, the horse didn’t budge. Attempt number 2 – Fail. Attempt number 3 – Fail. During that session, the horse would never let me lift his hoof. I didn’t feel safe and neither did the horse.

As I stood close to the front of the horse listening to the instructor give me further direction, the horse did his own thing. I had no authentic leadership skills in that moment. In turn, the horse bit my hand.

I did nothing.

This, of course, was reflective of how I was operating in relationship with others. If someone hurt me, I said nothing. If someone overstepped my boundaries, I did nothing.

Fast forward six years to June 2013. I have been practicing mindfulness for six years. I have been sharing my truth, even when incredibly painful. I have worked through the discomfort of setting boundaries. I have died to my pain.

This June, I had my second experience with equine therapy with Peggy Norwood Stella at Equessence with her sweet, beautiful horse named Dill.

I was VERY curious going into this experience with how I may, or may not, have changed.

Through my healing and mindfulness journey, I have learned to stop wanting anything from anyone. I have stopped hoping for anything better to come along. I have learned how to be present with my feelings, both positive and negative. I have learned how to practice self-compassion and compassion for others and nature.

Through my Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy practice, I have learned how to come into therapeutic relationship with others. I have learned to be still inside. I have learned how to attune to another’s felt sense while maintaining my own sense of independence. I have learned how to make contact with someone from a non-striving, or parasympathetic approach, with no desire or wanting from myself or the other person.

And now, here I stood beside Dill – my authentic reflection and horse companion for the evening.

I was asked to make initial contact with Dill.

First, I made contact with myself and verbalized to the group that I had a strong, negative physiological response to the horse poop that happened just a minute or two before. I knew if I didn’t verbalize this, I would still be holding on to a ‘trying to make things OK’ mentality.

Then I silently acknowledged my slightly increased heartbeat and feelings of self-consciousness.

Next, I stood in front of Dill and used my eyes to receptively receive him. Instead of projecting, ‘Hey, I’m here!’ I communicated with my eyes that I see him.

I asked where Dill’s heart was located. I’m not too familiar with horse anatomy and allowed my heart to resonate with his heart.

Then, I said hello softly, introduced myself, and asked permission if I may approach him.

When I felt Dill had acknowledged me – sensing a sense of softness in my lower throat, shoulders, and chest – I approached.

We made contact. Connected.

This was just the introduction. Next, we went outside so I could walk Dill.

This was ‘the test.’ Would Dill allow me to walk him and stay on the path I choose? Does he trust me? Do I trust myself?

Can I be fully present as we walk around in the circle pen to be a loving leader? Could I avoid distraction and stay in a space of empty, yet purposeful, direction?

Hoorays! Dill and I did it. We walked two full rounds around the horse pen, trotting in tandem WITH each other.

We initiated movement together. We maintained a steady pace without distraction. We ended our walk together.

When we concluded our walk, I thanked Dill for his presence and participation.

And I acknowledged my own shift without perceiving it as a sense of accomplishment. Instead, I viewed it as a sense of an embodied practice.

To stop wanting. To stop projecting. To be open. To be empty. To be present. To be appreciative. To be love.

If you are interested in learning more about yourself, your communication skills, your fear, how you come into relationship with life, or your sense of presence, I highly recommend equine therapy.

Let the horse compassionately reflect what is inside.

With love,

Angela