With autumn approaching here in the northern hemisphere, harvest season right around the corner, I tend to get a bit busy. I grow tomatoes, squash, and greenbeans in my suburban yard. Beans need canned, squash needs discovered before it becomes the size of a bus, tomatoes need picked before the next storm or they’ll split. Between work and gardening and horses, the shortening daylight hours bring an underlying feeling of “hurry.” Get it all in before nightfall, coming sooner each week. A scurrying, buzzing inner tension, a craving for the next hour or day or month to satisfy my needs and wants. Sometimes I don’t even realize it’s there until a horse stops me and goes, “I’m not moving until you turn that off.” Reinforcement of self-awareness at it’s finest.
Another thing that is being reinforced by the horses right now is a need for human gratitude. In my riding attempts (and I call them attempts because some days we move, and some days we don’t,) I have been told that same “need/crave” feeling is something that horses receive far too much of. I got this message both from the horses and from a magnificent coach, Lockie Phillips, who I mentioned briefly in my book. When working on the ground I’ve noticed this show up in horses who will avoid blanketing, for example, if the person has a burning need to get them blanketed. If that need goes away and it becomes something they aren’t committed to, then the horse allows it. I call it detachment from the outcome. Lockie calls it being driven by process, not result. The horses call it gratitude, or acceptance of the smallest gifts. The gift of being around a horse. The gift of being allowed to sit on their back without being tossed off of it. The gift of curiosity instead of terror. The breeze being cool, the flies not being as bad today. Does it truly bother me so much that they don’t move off with a squeeze of my leg? They do know how. What do I resort to when faced with a polite “no thank you?” When do I finally let go of my “need” and my “right now?” These are the questions the horses have been asking me recently.
Maeve Birch Home 