Hope Horsemanship

Tag: mustangs

  • I’ve Never Had a Connection Like That Before…

    I’ve Never Had a Connection Like That Before…

    This is something I have begun to take for granted.

    Jaime taking input from Tom – after a few minutes of giving Wyoming time to make the choice to accept the side pull at liberty. She is trying, but you can see some tension in her neck and she has some concerns lingering

    Connection has become a buzz word in the horse community, but looking at all the interviews and taglines that use the word, I wonder: what exactly are we all talking about? I don’t think we all mean the same thing when we talk about connection. I can’t be totally sure though because as I waited for it through even hour long podcasts… I have never yet heard it defined. 

    This brought me to consider what do I think it means?

    To me, connection with a horse is when the horse is present in the moment in the physical space with me both in mind and body. The horse is available, responsive, and willing to try when I ask something — regardless if the request is known or new. With connection there is a calm mind, relaxed body, and sense of peace between us. 

    Connection is not 100% on or off, at least not in my experience. It is a place we find with increasing regularity as I honor the freedom of the horse and convince the horse through experience that I am a safe place to be available for connection.  This means I cannot use force or punishment to get something done. This trust is established through clarity, timing, and patience. The higher level of these skills a human carries, the quicker the trust is established. Horses have a range of natural tendencies and while some horses demand close to perfection from a handler to relinquish their own plans, some horses are pretty forgiving of bad timing, poor clarity, and other mistakes that introduce various levels of confusion or negate feel to the process. 

    Jaime looking to re-establish connection with Wyoming as her mind went elsewhere

    There have been years I thought I had connection with Khaleesi. She was the horse I started with the only tools I had at the time which were basically (for lack of better language) Natural horsemanship which I define generally as a horse training method built on the concepts of increasing and driving pressure. *Your definition of Natural Horsemanship may differ, but in this article I’ll give mine for clarity*

    Direct, driving pressure and the punishment factor of increasing pressure until a response comes… well, it works. I was thrilled with how well it went as I used this approach to start four-year-old Khaleesi. I look back now and see I equated obedience and timely response to connection. Some people equate close proximity to connection. Some people have told me grooming a horse is a point of connection. Some people equate solid training to connection. *Grooming a horse, or having the horse respond in a timely way etc of course can be done in connection, but it can also be without connection, therefore they are not evidence of connection.*

    Ilana Starkey working to establish connection with Mia who began present in body but not in mind due to the worry over being separated from her pasture mate Mia

    Though I don’t think it’s useful to anthropomorphize horses, I have found parallel examples in good relationships across the board that help my understanding and adjust my approach. I have experienced being at the same table as another person and yet be completely disconnected from them. I have been in a conversation with someone- even someone I like and have a relationship to – and been actively disconnecting from them, especially if the conversation feels intended to control or manipulate me. 

    I have seen examples of controlling parents whose children grow into very obedient, good kids and also clearly have little meaningful connection to their parents. Unfortunately I think many parents of the ideal obedient kids confuse good behavior and wanting to please with actual connection. I have seen this between horses and humans too. The more I’ve observed about connection the more amazed I am when a good connection is in place, and I’ve realized it is unfortunately rare both in human-human relationships and human-horse ones. 

    Real connection has to have choice, and cannot exist when there is fear of punishment. In humans or horses. The challenge I find is how fine the line can be separating consequences and boundaries from punishment, and indirect pressure from direct pressure. One way I discern in myself how I’m doing, is the concept that we only get two motivation choices in life: fear and love. Punishment and control comes from fear, consequences and true boundaries are rooted in love and have the primary goal of reconnecting when the connection is lost.

    Here Mia makes a choice to give Ilana a try. For a moment she is present and connected.

    Disconnection is painful and stressful within ourselves, the people around us, and with our horses. Unfortunately most of us have learned to live in that as a way of life- look at all the anxiety and stress we endure day to day. 

    This leads me to the number one factor I have found in getting better connection: above all things, do not fear — seek the truth.

    I write all of my blog posts from personal experience with the hope someone else might find it relatable and encouraging. If you experience this, you are not alone. I am getting better at accepting the bald faced truth as the years go on. In years past, I couldn’t always face the harsh reality and what it revealed about my shortcomings. I knew where I wanted to be and found myself looking for any tiny piece of evidence that I had already arrived, and built an alternate reality I preferred around those scraps.

    Today I know that the opposite has been more life changing: I look for all the places where things are not what I hope for, and I dig deeper to find out why and how to clean them up and grow. In those former seasons I can see I had less confidence that the direction I was walking would ever actually bring me to the place I believed it would, and I realize I had too much of my identity wrapped up in this hope being truth. If it didn’t pan out… surely everything would fall apart around me.

    Of course no one else out there reading this has probably ever realized they have way too much of their own identity wrapped up in something around a horse… the performance, success, good behavior, approval from others, ability to achieve a goal, etc. I’m sure that’s only me.

    Over time I learned the truth always sets me free and I don’t have the be afraid of it. There is no failure, only learning. Ironically, operating under the fear of failure and fear of what could really be happening, kept me from the connection I desired most. Fear always destroys connection, within human and horse relationships. I doubt I’m alone in noticing there is a LOT of fear between horses and humans- on all sides of the conversation.

    There is no failure- only learning

    That being said, for at least three years now, my understanding of connection has been the goal of all my work sessions with any horse. Ideally above anything other goal. I still miss the point sometimes and get distracted by achieving something especially if we are so close. Still, increasingly, my horses have begun to experience this approach as a way of life. 

    I’ve begun to take it for granted.

    Jaime waiting patiently for Wyoming to “come through” on a request by the reins to step her hind over. Giving the mare the time she needs to think and process and respond without increase in pressure or driving her around will build stronger trust and connection.

    Then something came to light last weekend during a clinic with Tom Moates here at Hope Horsemanship. I invited a teenage girl who has an unusual drive to go deeper with her horse journey, to work with Khaleesi. She had never been here before, and never met K. Her horse experience has been riding horses in multiple training barns in her home area mostly in eventing and jumping disciplines, as well as a few endurance rides. She does not currently have her own horse.

    We brought K to her in the arena and handed over the lead rope. This brave young girl stood in front of strangers having never met this horse, and never having worked with a horse in the manner we have been learning, and waited for some guidance of what to do.

    Tom walked her through some basic activities and she tried to execute the concepts with this stranger in front of her with four legs and a tail. She picked up the concepts quickly and did her best to go through some simple tasks. Sometimes she was coordinated with good timing and the clarity was rewarded with a beautiful execution. Sometimes she was slightly off, a bit clunky with the request and not as clear. These had less than ideal results. Regardless, K was available to the two legged stranger holding the lead rope and stayed clearly connected to her as they worked. 

    What I noticed as they worked together, was the connection I had been building in the horse was actually available to a stranger, as long as she approached the relationship in good faith and a similar mindset. It was not about the right buttons of a well trained horse. 

    The girl was attempting to ask K to walk a circle around her and could have accomplished that significantly faster by pushing Khaleesi’s nose out and driving her hind end with a rope tail. Walking a circle however was not the goal. The true goal was learning how to direct the horse’s thought, and how to do a thing together without creating disconnection. Driving the horse with pressure at the hind end, which engages the natural flight mode of the horse, which is in the sympathetic nervous system, which brings up adrenaline and worry, would have weakened the connection they had established. 

    I think about the times when someone used manipulation or threat to engage me in an activity. I can think of experiences where this was done subtly, in nice tones, or even making it sound like it’s a good deal for me. I still feel the intent behind it and though I may decide to comply because it’s probably in my best interest, I don’t feel great about the relationship. Even at a low level, I know when I’m being threatened or manipulated. Horses do too. Driving the horse, EVEN IF it only took a small amount of pressure, comes with a different feeling from the horse. This quick response looks more impressive to an undiscerning audience. The ego likes a quick response, even at the cost of the connection.

    The pair did magnificently, though the session was slightly boring to an onlooker, and I wondered if it may have been boring to a teenager. We often joke that good horsemanship is about as exciting as watching paint dry.  The girl had a really beautiful session and clearly Khaleesi was relaxed and connected to her through the entire hour. Curious to know the truth of how she felt about the potentially boring work, I asked her directly later in the day. I was pleased and a little surprised as she bubbled over with joy. Her words were:

    “I loved it! I’ve never felt what it was like to have that kind of real connection with a horse before.”

    The girl was not short on various experiences with many horses. She had ridden multiple horses in various disciplines over years already, enjoyed grooming time with some, spent quiet time in pasture with domestic herds, had to count on an equine partner to navigate jumps and ride 25 and 50 mile endurance rides, and it was this horse she only had just met once where she saw a new potential in what was possible.

    I was particularly pleased to see the long term shift in my own approach to my horses created an availability for connection that transferred to a stranger- even one “uneducated” to my way of working. I was reminded not to take that beautiful truth for granted. This kind of real connection is an amazing gift, between humans, but even more between humans and animals. I think it’s what we are wired for and desire above all else.

    Tom working to help Breeze let down his tension and concerns, to connect in softness, and be guided around the barrels

    All around us, when true connection eludes us, we still deeply desire it. This brings confusion and displacement. We will settle for a poor substitute trying to convince ourselves it’s the real thing: obedience, control, achievement, positive outcomes at any cost. I have been guilty of mistaking those things for connection or trying to find connection with those around me through them. In this model, it’s like the horse has to “disappear” for our demands, and if they comply we think all is well. 

    There is an opposite swing equally problematic. In trying to fix my tendency to force things to happen, I swung through phases of letting my horse lead too much of the relationship. I spent time only listening to the horse, and accepting all of their input without showing up to question, lead, or direct. When I was in that mode, I “disappeared” and didn’t show up authentically to participate in the connection. Horses are desperately seeking good leadership. Over time in this mode, I see horses become harder and harder to interact with and manage. It’s confusing I believe when we “show up” physically but don’t “show up” in a meaningful way. When we pull horses into a human world and put them in our care, we owe it to them to lead and direct them in a way that honors them and is not afraid of meeting them in the connection with our own honest best. 

    The entire process begins when we are honest about our fears and face them. Fear isn’t bad or good- it is an indicator. If you are afraid of your horse, be real about it. There is a reason and there is a path forward. Maybe the horse has real issues that need higher level of experience to address in order to bring the anxiety level down to something more safe to work with. Sometimes our fears are that we will fail, and the horse ends up carrying all of that counterproductive weight. Sometimes the fears are completely unfounded and not based in reality, but in past experiences that never got cleaned up and dealt with.  Those past experiences have to be dealt with inside our own minds and hearts in order to show up fully in the present, available to connection with the horse in front of us. 

    Jaime & Wyoming in a good moment together, Wyoming is soft and relaxed and present both mentally and physically

    Fear can be valuable, and the truth sets us free. 

    This is the journey to connection. The great thing is, it’s available to everyone. The stronger we become in addressing fears, walking in freedom, and the confidence to love without fear, the more we have to offer those around us- horses and humans alike!

    The photos in this blog post are all courtesy of Christian Andrew (Christian Marsh Photography) who was visiting with us one day of the clinic. Christian is working on a book featuring Tom Moates. Stay tuned for more information on that project!

  • The Cup Runneth Over…

    The Cup Runneth Over…

    Hope Horsemanship may be quiet recently, but not out of inactivity. I’ve been working with horses at the Akhal-Teke Foundation (Lexington, VA) which has been fascinating. I showed up in the midst of breeding and baby season and each visit had different needs around moving horses in and out of herds and fields to visit stallions and be weaned from or reunited with mamas. There are cute babies in the nursery paddocks and yearlings needing some handling and attention. With twenty-eight horses on site, there’s always more to do than time to do it! The purpose of the foundation is to steward a bio-diverse breeding population of this very rare breed and the people behind it are dedicated and fun to get to know. There will be more to share about this partnership as time goes on.

    Between getting Khaleesi ready to take on the Vermont 100 in July, just over a month away, some clients and the Akhal-Teke Foundation work, we are planning a Tom Moates Clinic July 11-12 here at HQ (there is still room for one more horse to participate!), and a new program we’re excited to develop with kids June 23-27 where we’ll be addressing a topic each day, discussing it and doing demos with the horses to show how to take on fear, anxiety, how to love well and know what good boundaries look like, how to find confidence in yourself, and what good leaders do, and more. For anyone local to us, there is still room, and though the program is 5-days for 2 hours each day, single days can work as space allows. Contact Jaime@HopeHorsemanship.com for enrollment details!

    I’ve managed to carve out a couple short sessions to check in with Wyoming in between. First, I was able to put on her halter without any nipping threats- which is encouraging (twice!). She is still mildly concerned, but gave me the benefit of the doubt. I sense our connection continues to improve in general over the last year or two. I rubbed her and stood in place for a moment after she accepted the halter and told her ‘that was really nice, and thank you.’ I was glad she relaxed before we continued on – the halter means we’ll be working today. I don’t want to trick her, that erodes trust. I want her to be ok with the work we do together and to stay with her each step.

    I moved her away from Khaleesi gradually, checking in with her every few steps when she got sticky, and reconnected her mentally to me. I was asking her to let go of Khaleesi and take a few more steps with me. It is not about if I’m acting like a predator, pretending to be part of the herd, “listening to the horse”, or getting the correct approach angles. It’s not even about sensing discomfort and starting on “pressure-release” from a distance. I have incorporated all of those things over the years with various change in the horse. They all have limitations that Wyoming has ensured I learn. 

    I mentioned it’s not about “listening to the horse” and what I do not mean by that is one should not be aware of what the horse is telling us. What I mean is I’ve “listened to the horse” so well at times that I’m not able to direct or lead because I’m only responding to what she is putting out and the horse is not intended to lead the dance.

    Instead, I observe and try to understand. With that information, I can better know where the horse’s mind is, and I need to have influence on that mind in order to guide her. Wyoming’s mind goes back to Khaleesi, I pause and do not move forward until I am able to bring that mind back to me, draw a few more steps… mind goes back to Khaleesi, pause, ask her again let go of Khaleesi, focus on me… take a few steps. This is a practice and she lets go a little at a time. Khaleesi is important to her. She is the security of a good leader and the only herd she has. I am increasingly able to offer what Wyoming recognizes as good leadership, however I am not going to be a herd mate (ever). I am not a horse, I’ll never convince her otherwise. I am a human who cares about these horses, and will do everything I can to bring peace and security to her if she’ll stay with me. I can enter her world, and invite her to participate in mine in a way that honors her and lifts her up to be able to participate and do more than she could ever imagine in her horsey brain. 

    I’ve heard the argument that a horse is content in a life of foraging and grazing and resting under a shady tree. That’s probably true. However, when a horse and human partner with trust and integrity, something bigger than either the human or the horse alone could reach happens, and it is a thing of exquisite beauty. When it’s done poorly, it is sad and discouraging. It is hard to see people using horses for their own glory and the trauma and damage that results. My hope is keep learning how to do it well, and honor the horse as I grow- and walk in a sense of grace along the path. 

    Eventually Wyoming truly lets go of Khaleesi, and we walk together to the tack room without further hitches. I put the saddle pad on her back and begin poking at her side where the cinch will go. I’ve noticed she carries tension here, and sometimes in the saddle, she seems physically uncomfortable. At times she almost colicky- and then also no issues. Sometimes both in the same day… The saddle is a good fit, and the cinch is wide, distributing the pressure across a generous area. It’s too intermittent for me to be convinced it is ulcers. Addressing her built up anxiety has had the most effect in resolving the issue.

    When you poke a horse, which I don’t recommend doing just to annoy it, you either find relaxed muscle and it can be almost like a massage, or you find tension and the horse will “boing” like a spring. Depending on the amount of tension, I’ve seen the entire horse’s body act like a giant spring. It can seem pretty disturbing, however I have seen this done in a way that over a few minutes the tension begins to release, the horse starts to soften, and this feels much better for the horse. The kind of tension that’s created when the entire body springs from the contact does not feel good at all, and ignoring it doesn’t make it go away. Putting a saddle over that and trying to ride probably really doesn’t feel very good.

    Wyoming is mostly relaxed, but there are a couple specific points that when poked at create the spring reaction in her side. Surprisingly for what it looks like, she isn’t bothered. In fact she stands still while I poke around at her and eventually she even yawns and shakes her head. The tension begins to release. I do this on both sides, and THEN get the saddle. Once the saddle is on, I poke again in the same places. There is still spring tension there so I poke around a bit more and she still stands calmly. More yawning and licking and releasing. The tension is not completely gone when I go to cinch up, but it’s diminished. The saddle brings up that tension to some extent; it starts with the saddle pad, and it’s connected to experience being ridden more than direct physical pain from. 

    Once I get the saddle on, we enter the round pen and my plan is to check in, ask her to move around me and return in both directions to see how she’s doing. This horse gets sticky in the forward both on the ground and in the saddle, and I’d like to see this improve.

    As expected, I had some stickiness asking her to move around. I am not lunging to tire her out, and I’m not running her in circles in order to “suck her in” to draw to me. I want her to get connected to me before we begin, then I want her to stay connected to me while she walks or trots around the pen, and then remain connected when I stop and invite her back in. Both directions. With me the entire time. When this connection is broken, I must re-establish it before we continue. I worked through the stickiness of forward both directions until she accepted then relaxed into walking around without halter or lead, with me directing her in the pen, was not so bad. 

    Leading, on lead or at liberty, is not a problem. The stickiness comes when I ask her to move on to circle without me being out in front leading. This is important because if I’m riding I cannot be out in front leading which is where she seems to prefer me. 

    This goes well, and I end our short session there. She willingly puts her nose in the halter, and we walk to the tack room. I remove the saddle and then do a poking test. Zero reaction. No spring. Relaxed.

    The second day is similar to the first, only there is almost no tension spring on poking the second day. I have more time to play with the mounting block, sitting in the saddle (though I didn’t ride off), and some experimental time “riding” from the ground. This is when I stand at the saddle, drape my arm over and walk next to the horse in a similar behind the head position as if I were riding. 

    Here I discover something interesting. I can get this working for me when I stand on her left (though it is sticky at first), but when I change sides and stand on her right and ask her to walk off, I get chaos. First she paws the ground and then tries to paw at her underside (as if colic or ulcers), then she reaches over to nip at me. This is very similar to the behavior that has been randomly concerning in the saddle. 

    I was not sitting on her, and doing this from the left side did not create the trouble. Whenever she is uncomfortable enough to reach around to bite at the rider’s boot, it is 90% to the right side. I am pretty certain this is not a physical issue, I hang in there until she takes a couple steps. It’s challenging but I reward small improvements in the right direction. This side never comes smooth, but it does get better. I go back to working from the mounting block then end the session. The strong reaction on the right side is valuable information toward helping her become comfortable carrying a rider. I will certainly dig in there more as time goes on.

    I am happy with our work. 

    First, I am increasingly aware of the horse’s focus and how to encourage her to connect with me, and then how to direct her mind. This leads to what Harry Whitney calls with-you-ness. If I have a calm confidence, a presence in the moment, and can get the horse to stay with me in that space, we have a much better chance at working together. The better chance she will feel better about the work.

    Second, I stay aware of what Ross Jacobs calls the worry cup. A common pitfall working with horses is moving ahead one thing to the next without noticing until the cup runneth over, and that usually means an explosion or some kind of injury scenario for the human. How often have I heard things like: I don’t understand, you have seen X, Y or Z a million times, and now you freak out? That could tell us that X, Y or Z can be tolerated when the cup is low, but if the worry and anxiety is already at 7/8 full, X is just too much for the moment. Before we judge the horse harshly, I can recall a day when things keep going wrong until a simple thing that would normally merit an eye roll, instead gets a full out tantrum. Most horses have various degrees of concern reactions and it can be different day to day. 

    If I would have trapped her with the halter, walked off to the tack room without looking back (or worse, drove her onward as she struggled to leave) then put on the saddle and went to work, we would have had more problems to fix in the round pen. It’s likely I could have pushed her through, but when I returned her to the field she wouldn’t feel very good about it, and the next time I arrived with the halter, she’d put more effort into evading me. If I’d have tried to ride her after the cup was brimming full, I’d probably have us both in a situation neither of us would be feeling good about. This is one way people get hurt. When the cup runneth over…

    Third, I have more joy in the process. I like to see results, but this horse has been a gift of growth in my life for years. She has challenged my horsemanship, my emotional maturity, and my relational concepts. I have let go more of the expectations I carry in my ability to get things done with her. I’ve had more of my own self-worth and identity wrapped up in not failing this horse than I would like to admit over the years, and that’s a burden she can sense even if I pretend it’s not there. I am more curious and less pressured to see “results” with her. I have also come to just plain like the mare for who she is, even though what she does is often everything I wish she wouldn’t do! 

    I actually enjoy her, even if I’m standing next to her at the tack room poking at her sides to see if she’ll let go of some tension. I have been reading more about how important joy is to the brain for personal growth and transformation. 

    This weekend is the Old Dominion 55 for Khaleesi and me. It’s our last event before heading to Vermont. We are doing all the things we learned to prepare for the OD 100 in 2023, and it seems the mare is on a good track for giving me her best. I feel confident that we will take these rides on together and whatever comes it will be fun, and we’ll either grow from increased success, or we’ll grow from learning through failures. Regardless we will grow, and what fruit that comes, we will share it with you!

    Stay tuned! Come visit! And do it all with Joy.

  • The Live Wild Beating Heart

    The Live Wild Beating Heart

    We seem to be entering a new season here on the ground at Hope Horsemanship! Over the winter we have done a lot of work breaking new ground and with the emergence of Spring, we have facilities in place to do more activities right here at home. Over the weekend we hosted our first Roving Clinic with the majority of the activities right on the ground on our tiny little horse farm. I took a video tour and will include the link at the end.

    Sunday at the Hope Horsemanship Clinic with Tom Moates coaching Abigail

    As the clinic approached and a new season seemed so clearly springing up, I considered Wyoming who I would be working with on both days. Where were we and what did I want to focus on with her sessions? How is it possible that after seven years there is still so much trouble in that mare? What was her life about here with me, and have I failed her? 

    When I found her online through a TIP trainer in the Mustang Heritage Foundation, I was looking for a companion for my small herd that could be a solid trail riding mount and teach me more about horses. I considered her- born in the wild – a native so to speak. Who better to learn horse from than a wild mustang who should come with pretty pure horse language and instincts? 

    Her description was a well-started mare who needed some miles and experience. She was a pretty and nicely built red dun, and seemed like exactly what I was looking for. That was seven years ago. Things did not go as expected.

    I have since come to see the horse you will learn a lot from is not usually also the horse that is a solid nice trail horse anyone with a little experience can enjoy. These are two very different kinds of horses!

    There is a saying in the Bible from Paul that God can do anything- far more than you could ever imagine or guess or think to request in your wildest dreams. He doesn’t do it by pushing us around, but by working within us… (the Message edition). This is certainly true.

    God has a sense of humor and loves me, so he didn’t give me a solid riding mount. I already had one of those. I got the learning horse and I got it big. I brought home an enigma that catalyzed an epic adventure I would probably not have agreed to had I seen it coming. Of course that’s the best kind, and the more steps I take into the wild, the more I realize this is the only kind of life I want to be engaged in. In fact, if I thought at this point things were settling down into a predictable solid life I could maintain on my own devices, I’d likely fall into a hopeless depression at this point. How boring that story would seem now.

    Wyoming did not comply with the accepted natural horsemanship style training that I was immersed in. Even if she may have been able to function within that paradigm, to ensure our journey, clearly I did not possess the skillset to get it done, and in the area I live no one I found was offering anything much different. The mare would not travel in a trailer, so the possibility of sending her farther out to someone who might have been able to jam her into compliance with more creative tools was off the table as well.

    We were stuck with each other, and if anyone was going to help this horse- it was going to be me- and we were not going anywhere. I was going to need help, and it was going to have to come to us. Somehow help was going to have to travel to the most remote, least populated counties in the Virginia Mountains. To add layers of complication, I did not even have my own property to hold these education events, and I didn’t have the kind of funding it would have taken to simply hire a good professional from afar to come and give me a private training window. Clearly it would take a community here in the remote mountains and looking back, it has been a substantial miracle.

    It became pretty clear to me that if God could feed thousands with one kid’s lunch, he could bring the help I needed to this little tiny community and give us a place to do the work. If He was really there, and He cared about this mare, and me, He’d have to show up and do something. 

    He did. Seven years later I am looking around my tiny horse farm, the same place I was living when this all began never imagining it could be a clinic hosting education center- I didn’t even believe until a year ago horses could exist and thrive here. 

    We began this journey with the favor and ridiculous “luck” of the free use of a massive private horse facility! We went from 3,000 acres, indoor arena, outdoor arena, massive barn and large turn out to 3.5 acres and only exactly what we need to come together and grow. On the outside it looks like reduction, but on the inside it’s a huge expansion and a new beginning of a growth season. It’s like a seed that contains everything a massive tree needs to flourish has been planted, the roots have been reaching down and now is beginning to sprout above the surface.

    All because of a red dun mustang mare who wouldn’t get with the program.

    It was just last week the truth flickered to life in front of me as the truth hit me like a stone. This mare is the living, beating heart of Hope Horsemanship. She is the thread that has stitched it all together. She is the reason I’ve delved into approaches including natural horsemanship, the “Ray Hunt” lineup, positive reinforcement, clicker training, “pure” liberty, old school just get it done by force, and anything else I could experiment with because something was going to get a real change. Everything had moments that looked like a shift, but none of them stuck and made the difference. Regardless of what I could get her to do, I still had a horse with deep anxiety and massive brace toward working with people, and who would try with a willingness that I still find unbelievable, and then come to an “I can’t” moment and break down into a chaotic wreck. It’s a miracle neither of us have gotten killed in the process!

    Working on a right direction circle a few years back

    After finding Harry Whitney then Tom Moates I see the path straightening out, but now in her teens there is so much baggage she carries- a significant amount of it before her arrival- but in all my best efforts I too have added to the weight she carries.

    This is also a lesson. Best intentions are often laced with unintended very real negative consequences. Such is life. We do our best to unravel the tangles we make in our attempts to grow, we trust God to redeem it, and we have grace with others who are making tangled messes in their own efforts. Then I also remind myself to keep trying even though in a time to come I’ll look back on the tangles I’m still making as I try today. It’s ok. Change is possible and growth does come to those who don’t give up. Let grace abound.

    I always learn deep things when I spend time with Wyoming. Sunday, I was pressing on anxiety she carried walking around me, loose in the pen, to the right. She could tolerate walking to the left, but when asked to the right she showed various degrees of trying to displace her attention to not stay present with me, (sniffing the ground, looking outside the pen).  When I continued to (as gently as possible and still get her mind) bring her attention to our present work and relax and see she will not die… she would break into a trot- movement to dissipate the deep anxiety- and would sweat way more than necessary on this cool breezy day. She was in fight or flight and she chose fight just as many times as flight. Even when the entire pen was available to her she would come into the block I had made in a corner and try to force her way to go back in the left direction before she would consider walking to the right. 

    Wyoming bunched up and anxious about moving in a right direction circle

    We have spent a lot of time over the years making circles on and off a lead rope looking for various things over those years, and in the last two years, relaxation and peace has been a high priority. I can imagine bystanders thinking this is crazy- at what point does one brand the horse broken and move on… leave her alone in the pasture to eventually die or as others have suggested to me: give her to someone who is adept enough to do something useful with the mare, which is clearly not me. And here are the shadow voices echoing in my own mind the same thoughts. 

    Yet I’m borderline belligerent with determination that there is YET hope. Maybe that’s due to my middle name being Hope. Maybe it’s why this enterprise is called Hope Horsemanship. If there is ever a foundational change in this horse it will be the success story of my lifetime. Any sane horse person would have probably walked away from this tangled up knot of anxiety and brace when after three years she still threatens to take me out on a regular basis. So clearly… I am not a sane horse person. I guess I’m ok with that. At this point, I have to know. If she’s not dead yet, there is still hope. 

    Isn’t this what we want to believe about ourselves too? The ones we love? The things they carry that create problems and weight us with anxiety… that while we breathe there is hope for light, love and life to increase?

    Here we are in the pen together on a day of new beginnings, and Wyoming is sick with worry about doing this very simple request, after many years of variations of doing this and not dying. Still she was not “being dramatic” or “making it up” – somewhere in her primitive mustang brain this felt like a survival issue. Still. This was clear to me. To a human it doesn’t make sense, however I know people who deal with severe anxiety and isn’t it the same? Don’t the humans I know with anxiety disorders know somehow that the thing they are about to go into cardiac arrest over is not actually a survival thing, but it doesn’t matter because the reaction is still very real to them?

    I was filled with compassion for this mare. This beating heart of my vision for transformation. I continued to insist that she find the right circle and encouraged her with peace whenever she got even the slightest change, first by taking the direction, then whenever a split second of breathing and relaxation set in. She still couldn’t walk, she had to trot or even canter going that direction, but she began to not fight me every time I asked. She began to choose the open door over the closed one even if the open door felt like death.

    One reason this still felt so life or death for her was because in all the years we have picked up this right circle, she may have complied to avoid the fight with me, she may have made an effort to do the thing physically, but she never broke through to a fundamental change in her mental and emotional systems that she could be ok and relax going to the right around me. She was still deeply unconvinced. The only thing that would change this was experience. The only way to get the experience was to get through it to the other side in a way that was not only obedient, but also relaxed. She would require a handler that could not only get the thing accomplished physically but would be able to help her past the physical into the mental and emotional place before taking off all the pressure so the place she would be left with, after the thing that felt like death, would be a true peace. 

    Chatting with Tom about our riding challenges

    In that pen with me, she is safe and nothing can harm her. Still, she doesn’t know that yet, not really. Not in the way that it is experientially real, and for a horse that is the only way they can know anything. She had to experience the fear of survival, then the submission to it, and then the reality that she is safe and ok.

    How often is this true for me?

    Lately I feel inundated by growth opportunities that feel like a threat to my very survival. I have a sense that God is insisting that I learn in a deeper level that nothing can harm me when I’m in his care, and then remember I’m always in his care. Nothing can take away anything that matters. Nothing can touch me without his consent and only because it will mean I emerge in strength, confidence, and peace having experienced that truth that even though it feels like death, submitting to the storm experience only reveals that I’m completely safe and have nothing to fear. And we are assured that even through death we still have nothing to fear. Even death is not a threat. Tell that to my amygdala!

    A fearless life is a powerful life. Fear is what brings about control and bullying. A fearless life doesn’t have to be so protective and choose to fight, a fearless life walks through open doors that look like death with confidence and find new life, new seasons, and great peace. 

    When Wyoming is in fear of her survival, she chooses to fight me. When she trusts that she is safe she, can hear my direction and walk out to the open space I have prepared for her and carry herself relaxed with confidence. I have seen glimpses of it, and on Sunday she had a significant change when after a gentle request she walked off to the right without displacement, without distraction, and relaxed. She can’t hold this for long yet. Once she begins to walk on water (figuratively) she starts to lose her mind, worry, and go back to her old ways, but it’s a start!

    Change is possible. For Wyoming.

    I believe that Wyoming can continue in the direction of being a horse less anxious about things. I believe I can continue to improve my skills to help her get there. There is not a clear answer to how to do this work. This horse takes more sophisticated observation to know when to do more to press through the hard place, and when to do less because it is going get worse. She’s incredibly sensitive and quick to change for better and worse. The bottom line is I have to get better. The good news is, I can.

    Change is possible. For me.

    I love our community. It’s tight knit and small, but it’s welcoming to new friends. We have folks entering and exiting the circles depending on their season. Many people are hopeful that the horse can be fixed to adjust to their needs and goals when things aren’t working. I have come to believe it’s us that usually needs to adjust to help the horse by finding what they need and supporting them. The change has to start in us, and it must be led by us, and most horses come into alignment with that. Sometimes the horse has enough trouble packed in that it’s too wide a gap to bridge with the time and ability of the owner. As stubborn as I am to commit to bridge building- staying in over a decade is not the right call for everyone. Sometimes it’s just a poor fit and finding a horse you enjoy is really important.

    I am beyond grateful for the companions who are on the epic road with me, because it can get lonely! I am encouraged by the community that continues to grow in support of the long term vision and the commitment to walk together for seasons and for life. I am grateful for the changes that have come to my own heart and life and excited when I get to participate and see first hand the changes that bloom around me. 

    I thought I wanted some training ideas. But what I’ve gotten seven years later is more than I had ever imagined or would have dreamed to ask for.

    It’s not about training for us around the pen and in the arena as we learn together. It’s about transformation.

    And it’s still only the beginning!

    The peaceful quiet after the clinic activity ends and everyone hauls out
  • Adverse Conditions

    Adverse Conditions

    If you don’t have something working really well in ideal conditions, you don’t have much hope of them working out in adverse conditions…

    I’ve heard Harry Whitney remind people of this as a fundamental answer to various questions they ask about trouble spots with their horses. It pairs well with another quote, which was my own take home from two days in June watching him at Mendin Fences (TN):

    In my experience, most people don’t know what it looks and feels like to have a horse truly mentally centered and present with you, and so most people don’t really get there, and this is a reason many people can’t seem to get a real change come through. The horse was never really centered up and present.

    It’s been a priority to address Wyoming’s mental centeredness since I’d met Tom Moates early last year.  Tom has been learning from Harry for years, and attention to the horse’s mind is a central focus for him as well. This doesn’t mean I’ve been successful it. We’ve made some significant strides in helping her become more relaxed, less angry, and significantly more cooperative than the other approaches I’ve tried over years. Yet I sensed a trouble in her that I had not gotten to the other side of, even as of this summer and the clinic we hosted in July.

    Harry Whitney, Wyoming & Jaime in Floyd VA, August 2024

    In mid-August, during Harry’s five-day clinic in Floyd (hosted by Tom),  the question came to each participant: what is it you most hope to address this week with your horse?

    I had one request: show me what it looks like to get Wyoming mentally centered and present.

    Harry was willing to guide us through this, and on day one, our lesson hour was spent, from the field to the work space, on learning what she looks like when she is fully present and how to require that she make that a way of life for now. 

    Additionally, my job was to make the times she was present and relaxed as sweet as possible. This is the place that feels good. At first, any time I asked for her attention, she would start throwing out options I might ask her for, like walking a circle. It was as if she had a hard time believing I could ask for her to be relaxed, ready, and present and then just breathe a moment and find peace in that space. Probably I don’t find as much peace with these creatures as I could, and a change here will serve us both. This was all we did.

    Harry & Wyoming finding a sweet spot with her mind present.

    At the end of our session that day, Harry suggested I take her all the way back to her paddock walking backward and not taking a step she wasn’t “with me.” It took a lot for me to stay that present and focused. 

    It took a lot of focus on day one to walk backward to the gate connected at every step to release Wyoming from class. But I was committed to the process. Harry helped me to be able to see when she was present, and bring her back when she wasn’t. The entire week I did not take a step without expecting she would come back to being mentally centered. This is not to be confused with being “hyper focused” on the human at every second for fear of punishment. There are training methods where a horse is ambushed or punished for looking around. Though I use a flag for some of this work, it is built around creating an indirect distraction or sound or movement that draws the attention back to me. The key difference is intention: the actions is not at her – not a threat toward her. I need to become more important or interesting than the other distractions. Working with Harry, we don’t use fear or force as a motivating factor. Doing this takes a shift in thinking.

    Once this becomes a way of life, the horse can look around and notice the environment because they have learned to quickly make note, let it go, and return to the place of peace which is back mentally centered with the human in the work. It is part of learning to let go of a thought that doesn’t serve the horse.

    Wyoming is a highly sensitive horse that has her attention split, keeping everything around her in check in order to survive each day. When she is distracted keeping tabs on everything within five miles, she can throw out autopilot training moves, but she cannot stay present in the active conversation I want to have with her. I don’t want push button autopilot. This has not served us at all. I want actual communication, in real time, addressing the present moment we are in. In order to do this she has to let go of the other things and stay with me. As Harry helped us make this a reality, secondary issues began to dissolve on their own. 

    During the week we addressed some different challenges I had been working on. We loaded her onto a trailer that was darker and had a step up entrance (instead of a ramp).

    Borrowing a strange trailer

    I worked on “knot work”- addressing the claustrophobia from early halter trauma that’s been present in some form the entire time I’ve had her. The day we explored knot work, I expected to see at least some extreme reaction to the halter, but it simply never came.

    Knot work

    I rode her in the round pen; I’d had trouble in the past getting a forward thought to walk on without driving her. We came up against a little drama here, but worked through it in short order, and had a nice shift in riding as well.

    Finally I felt a shift that seemed a significant change and I’ve continued this work at home. If this mare is not mentally present or centered up things do not go well. She gets annoyed at having her thoughts interrupted when she’s concerned about other things. Sometimes she still gets dramatic when she shares her feelings about her own ideas being interrupted or blocked. When she is mentally centered she is like the wonder horse I’ve always wanted. She is soft, adjustable, responsive, and willing. 

    I’ve been riding her at home in my round pen, enjoying great sessions where we are building like one would a green colt, forward, steering, stopping and backing. 

    I am trying to start this journey in as ideal conditions as possible. I continued to prioritize mental connection. I can put on the halter without fuss, load her on the trailer, and ride her in the pen. Each day more positive experiences and progress. Last week, Matt and I took her on a solo adventure, loading her on the trailer for a short drive to our local recreation area. We unloaded her, took a walk, then loaded her and returned home. It was a great success.

    Matt, Wyoming & Jaime have a successful adventure

    My next plan was to bring her to visit my farrier for Khaleesi’s shoe visit on Friday. I want to keep building on experience a real horse can have and farrier visit seemed a great next step to me. I trim Wyoming’s feet myself, and if we were able to get some trim work done or not was not important. Simply the experience of going on the trip successfully was the goal. Keep it simple.

    What I did not account for was hurricane Helene.

    Adverse conditions.

    First, Hurricane Helene turned tropical storm was making her way through the South and though we never had the destructive storms, we had almost 2” of rain and gusty winds. All this boils down to prey animals on high alert. The mares were spring loaded by the time to get going came.

    Second, the weather was crummy enough that though I was minimally willing to do what seemed necessary to have this adventure, I was less willing to go out early enough to assess her mental state, and intervene to find a working mindset before even considering loading. I gravely underestimated the effect of these adverse conditions. I might normally have planned a few minutes to shape this up… What I really needed in these conditions (in hindsight) was an hour of focus… and still, it might not have brought success.

    Third, we had a soft deadline. I highly value my farrier and drive an hour over the mountain to haul to him. He was at home, and happened to be flexible. Still, night would fall at some point, and though I had a time window, it wasn’t endless. Time restrictions always feel like pressure. Pressure brings fear of failure which often makes for poor decisions.

    To make a painfully long story shorter, Matt and I did the things that were successful in the past for about an hour. Over that time I watched the stubborn mare I used to know show up stronger to the forefront and dig in her heels. The more we insisted she join us with the trailer plan the more she resisted.

    I made a pretty good mess of it as I became desperate to get it done. Matt was a phenomenal help, and he never got frustrated though things were not going well. When our best efforts and closest moments dissolved into escapes off the ramp in panic, I saw I was doing more harm than good and creating problems I was going to have to fix. I knew the frustration I kept at bay was getting closer to the surface, and I knew that would only make things even worse. 

    I made one good decision to set aside my own stubbornness. I made the call to abort the mission, put her back in the lot, and take the horse who needed shoes before we had to abandon altogether. Wyoming did not have to make this trip. 

    It was hard not to consider this admitting defeat and total failure. Because that’s exactly what it felt like, and I am not one to admit defeat easily. I told myself years ago I would NOT allow work with my horses to become a win-lose scenario. I am not in this to make my horses into losers. How I want to function is a growth model, and it’s a long journey. I was recently reminded by Adam Grant in his book Hidden Potential:

    though straight line growth feels faster in the short term, it’s been proven many times that growth curves and loops are the only way to get farther over the long term.

    For a straight line thinker I have to remind myself of this intentionally, often.

    The mare was not with me, and we were way too deep in adverse conditions to swim out- especially considering it wasn’t necessary. Hopefully this was a loop in the long term trajectory that would carry us farther than my preferred straight lines of success ever would.

    My biggest miscalculation was to think I could get her out of the field after a half day of being jacked up by her environment, and then load her as if we had already mastered this because we had a few successful trips in ideal conditions. If I would have stopped to ask myself if she was mentally centered up sooner it would have been obvious that she was not. For some reason I thought I could overcome this deficiency by sheer willpower. Strangely enough eight years of trying to overcome her inattentive mind to get her to do anything never worked. Why I thought I could revert to my old ways and get a different outcome is… mostly embarrassing.

    After over thirty minutes of this idiocy, I saw it clearly. I realized she was minimally mentally present and that was my biggest problem. She wasn’t running me over or creating a danger and so I accepted it as good enough- but she was still highly distracted. After starting the process and getting very poor results I took her away from the rig to address her mental connection. 

    This was the most challenge I’ve ever had getting big enough for her to let go of every outside distraction a stormy day could bring. She would look at me and immediately avert her eyes, head, neck or even her body, to a sound or rustle or leaf in the air. To her this was survival and self-preservation. I couldn’t keep her mind for more than two seconds at a time. I worked very hard to get very big and very loud and very active and I could get maybe five seconds. If so I would take a few steps do it again and get a few seconds and take a few steps. In this mode I got her all the way onto the trailer, but as soon as matt touched the butt bar she would explode off because even though I could get her body on, her mind had not settled there. 

    It was a lost cause. I might have stopped after I realized she was not capable of staying present, and I should have realized that within five-ten minutes. I could have asked that question sooner and I might have realized that I was into depths we could not swim successfully. Possibly if I’d have addressed the mental state better in the first few minutes I might have had a chance. I don’t know.

    As always there are the growth opportunities. I get to experience once again as a reminder what many people I care about are also experiencing when they get some momentum with their horses and then skip over – sometimes purposely and sometimes without realizing it- to the deep end and get into a bad situation. Not only is it humbling for me to hit a place I cannot overcome in one fell swoop, it’s good for me to have to experience what people around me are going through. I am willing to go through challenges in order to learn things that might be able to help others. And so as James tells us in his letter: Count it all joy when you meet trials of various kinds! For you know the testing produces steadfastness, and let this have its full effect that you may be complete, lacking in nothing! 

    Also, it reveals to me me the dark, stubborn, frustrated part of me I hope to identify and eradicate. If I could have done so, I would have picked up that horse, hog tied her into that stall, and forced her on the journey. At some point I lost most of my compassion for her and the real sense of threat and pressure she felt.

    Working in ideal conditions

    In ideal conditions I have grown so much! I have tons of patience and empathy for what the horse thinks and feels. I can say I am here to help you and mean it. When the conditions squeeze me, what comes out? Eventually frustration and the desire to beat her with my flag until she complied by force, broken mind and broken will. I did not go there, but it was because I know that doesn’t work- not because of my stunning maturity and grace. It’s good to be reminded of the garbage that remains in the darkest corners that still need cleaning out. Lord help me, and thank you for exposing it without me acting on it.

    Something encouraging I considered in my personal debrief: this mare has a history of going to fight mode unusually quickly. She has threatened violence when she feels treated unfairly, with punishment or force. Friday, her stubborn will engaged, refusing to be loaded on the trailer, however, she never threatened with dragon ears, rearing, or nipping. She refused, but she didn’t fight.

    In the end, the conditions didn’t seem adverse enough to me to create this trial. I was wrong. Also, I had thought that our ideal conditions work was going well and it was. But I’ve learned from Harry that me, and many of us who are pursuing excellence and a higher working connection, are not aware enough yet of the subtleties in the ideal conditions that his eye would be. I can hear him say: you’d better get that working better because it won’t hold when things get adverse. The same as he has observed: most people don’t know what it looks and feels like for a horse to be fully present and truly mentally centered.

    Practicing going forward and back through the gate keeping her present each step.

    It seems many of us have to feel in mortal danger before we dig into what seems good enough. Apparently, for each person, there is a different threshold for working good enough. All foundations have a certain amount of weakness. Will it result in a tragic wreck or only sub-standard performance? It probably will depend in part on what kind of conditions you face. For Khaleesi, these adverse conditions were not a huge deal, for Wyoming they were a deal breaker. I want to be someone who digs deeper even when things are not downright scary and grow even when things seem good enough.

    Harry… the ‘Coast Guard’ Whitney

    I still having a long way to go. This means more time in the ideal to expose foundational cracks and more gradual steps into incremental adversity so the cracks are patched up before being totally overwhelmed beyond hope without a rescue effort from the coast guard. Someday I hope to see morelike Harry. Because of his experience and attention to details, time for him is shorter in the shallow end, and he has more tools and experience in the deep end- I suppose in some ways Harry is the coast guard.

    Today I am grateful that horses have memories and experiences, yet they also shift quickly with their experiences. I am pretty sure I caused problems I’ll have to fix, but if I show up fresh the next day, I believe she will as well, and if I bring my A game she will respond. Nothing is beyond repair, even though repairing damage I’ve caused isn’t a good way to proceed. 

    Epilogue.

    The following day we had a break in the rain and I spent some time with Wyoming to assess the damage. She was more difficult to halter in the field, but once I had her on line she came with willing softness and keeping her attention centered was easier in the calm sunny afternoon. I struggled to load her as easily as previous, but Matt had been watching and asked if he could try. It took some communication and patience, but he was able to load her twice fully on where she felt relaxed and calm. We did not close the bar, but took the progress and moved on.

    Matt and Wyoming regroup after the storm

    Matt then kept her attention and held the rope while I attended to her feet which did need a trim. She did so well we also put on her saddle and did some work in the round pen. All of this went well and Matt took the lead (literally) on much of it. He has a grace and patience for that mare I sometimes struggle with, and she responds well to it. 

    Yes there are some setbacks, there was a price from the poor choices and miscalculations I made, but these things will pass, the growth will continue in loops and curves. As always… Hope continues.

  • The other side of trouble

    The other side of trouble

    July 15, 2024

    My eyes began to water in the heat of the afternoon as I stood in the large dirt arena watching the scene unravel. I was glad it wasn’t likely anyone would notice. My back was to the onlookers, and Mark was working with the wild mare, too involved in what he was doing to notice. I’m not so concerned about tears in public anymore, though it’s not my favorite, but I was pretty sure anyone who did notice would misunderstand the reason for the emotions gripping me in the scene. 

    They didn’t come from watching my mare rear violently in reaction to even feather light pressure on the halter. Particularly when she became so reactive she fell on her side in the dirt which was quite dramatic. (She wasn’t hurt).

    The emotion didn’t come from worry that Mark was being unreasonable in his approach, creating unnecesary fear and stress, and watching him work with her might upset me. I knew he did not create any of what I was observing, it had been inside her as long as I’ve known her.

    What grieved me as I watched Wyoming flailing on that lead rope like a fish on a line was a snapshot I had somewhere in my heart of how many of us go through life or seasons of life like this. We are fighting and we can’t seem to stop fighting. We end up getting hurt, and hurting those around us while we flail and fight against what we perceive as life threatening pressure but what is intended to be a comfort. I saw myself at times. I saw people I love at times. I saw humanity. I saw my beautiful mare react in dramatic fashion as if her life was in danger, unable to let go of her past experience, trauma, and fear to trust the guidance. It touched me in an unexpected way in that moment.

    Mark Langley working with Wyoming

    Mark Langley, who was instructing the four-day clinic on the last stop of his USA tour, cares deeply for the horses and this thing in her that overreacts to any pressure is a torment she does not need to carry. He was hoping he could help her get through it to the other side of this trouble. There is a physical or mental memory (maybe a combination) in her that was seared into her on day one of her mustang make over competition training. 

    I was told the history when I picked up the wild mare in Tennessee: the trainer put the halter on Wyoming, the mare reacted in fear and came aggressively toward the trainer, the trainer (in her own words) overreacted, putting excess pressure on the halter, and sent the mare up in the air. Her first experience of education with a human ended in a rear up, back flip, and injury to her neck that took her out of the contest and put her on a trailer to Tennessee to have a slower longer training process through the Bureau of Land Management’s (BLM) Trainer Incentive Program (TIP).

    It’s likely with the trainer’s natural horsemanship approach: round pen, energy work and driving to create draw, the mare could be successful and avoid having the feel of restriction of the halter on her head. She became an amazing energy and body language reader. She became a punishment avoiding release hunter. When we picked her up as total strangers, just walking into the small arena, she would hook on to us or whomever it was, and follow closely. It didn’t occur to me that so much draw had been created in this mare that she felt the only good place to be was next to a human in order to avoid being sent out and driven.

    Since I’ve had the mare, asking her to back up and out of your space brings pinned ears and stress. It’s a huge feat years later to ask her to comfortably stay just out of your bubble. If I do get her to step back three feet and stand she gets anxious and begins to try to offer a circle or creep back in. She has the expectation that the human is going to ask something of her and she throws out possible options anticipating what might come next. She has learned if she doesn’t comply quickly enough with a request, the enforcing punishment will come via escalating pressure: a lead rope to her hind end, a flag will touch her, the bump on the halter. She lives in the future of what might be coming, and how to avoid it. If she can’t avoid it she feels trapped, gets angry and fights back. 

    the potential for pull back is serious in a trailer

    I stopped natural horsemanship style driving about 18 months ago when I watched Harry Whitney work horses in February of 2023. I think it’s begun to help change some of Wyoming’s experience and reactions, but the deep early formative work with her is still churning away at her core, and when it gets poked it comes out in big reactive displays. 

    The physical feel is only one thread of the knot which is inside this horse. Many horses comply to driving pressure (I have one who did), but Wyoming was one of the horses for whom the combination created a bit of a Jekyll and Hyde monster. She is either snappy quick, spot on with her reaction to a request or super angry and violent. Additionally in layer of wound up layers, she is a mare who has a hard time letting go of anxious thoughts. 

    Jaime working with Wyoming during the clinic

    Not only is strong drive and draw set into her, but when she is very close to me she can keep track of me physically while keeping her mind out on the larger environment. Asking her to back off three feet also means the human become part of the larger environment and she has to give mental space to keeping track me as well as everything in the next three miles in every direction. She has yet to become truly mentally centered in the way she can let go of the “other things” she holds onto for her survival.

    It’s stunning how she can be in this mental, physical, emotional place and still function to the level she does. If we could ever get to the other side of trouble there’s a phenomenal mare in there.

    How do we get to the other side of trouble?

    If I could answer this definitively I could have helped a lot more people and horses than I have to date. Yet somehow I’m still at this mystery even when I get discouraged. I wonder if I’ll ever know something definitely enough to be of value to a horse- or maybe even some of my fellow humans who are willing to take the mysterious journey into this wilderness of trying to understand how to help a horse feel better and be a more powerful willing partner.

    I do believe it is possible and so I don’t give up even when there are setbacks and it gets hard.  I do believe with a horse like Wyoming it is a matter of going through to the other side of the trouble and not letting the trouble make her world smaller and smaller until she is afraid of any pressure at all.

    It’s likely that Wyoming’s early training taught her that pressure meant she needed to adjust in order to get the pressure to go away. Unfortunately, anytime someone takes a rein in hand it creates a pressure or imbalance that the horse has to respond to – if done well it should bring the horse comfort through guidance, but if they have been trained to avoid pressure and seek release we have lost the ability to guide them through the reins or the lead rope. Very few people work their horses in the real world without reins or a lead rope. Nor do I recommend it as the ideal. Yet this means anytime someone picks up a rein to communicate with their horse, instead of relaxing into a guiding hand, many horses respond with anxiety to seek immediate release of pressure/imbalance which creates brace and tension through the body which works against strength, balance and grace in forward movement. 

    Jaime & Mark with Wyoming & Khaleesi

    I have a hope that Wyoming can get through this extreme fear of pressure that was created early in her training (and solidified for a time by me) so she can trust me to guide her. I want her to feel the rein or lead rope guide her into where she will find peace and safety in my leadership. I want her to correct the imbalance she notices and in doing so find she has choices, and the freedom to choose a path of lease resistance that is fairly available to her because I am able to offer that. But I also want her to be able to stay connected at the end of the rope in appropriate balance of pressure like I would hold my dad’s hand to cross the street as a child.

    She has to stop fighting first. If she would stop fighting she could follow that feel and see it would not bring her danger or pain, but comfort and safety. I asked myself if this deep sadness that came over me momentarily was indicative that this scene was playing out in my own life, or was a memory now. I’d like to say I’ve learned not to fight against the hand that guides me with strength, kindness and love. I know that my own journey through the wilderness is far from over, and sometimes I don’t even realize that I’m fighting the guidance that feels like pressure and imbalance and sometimes downright life threatening to me. 

    I’m sure Wyoming doesn’t understand what I’m trying to do in the bigger picture just as I really don’t always understand the big picture of what is going on in my own life while I’m in the middle of it all. 

    We were not able to get Wyoming to the other side of trouble in the four days of the clinic, but I learned some things that I hope will help me continue to guide her through. As with most worthwhile journeys, I feel like we’re deep into the wilderness, but in recent years I’ve learned something about the wilderness. I’ve learned it’s the place we least want to go, yet it’s the place where the transformation takes place. If we are going to get to the other side of trouble, chances are we have to be willing to be led into the wilderness.

    And so I go.

  • Change is possible…

    Change is possible…

    Hello! I’m sending this short “extra” to share two videos to show the continued work this spring with wild Wyoming, the horse that was never wrong (for a day).

    Last year I spent some time with Harry Whitney, read some books by Tom Moates– and invited him to come visit with us here in the mountains, and listened to a fair amount of Mark Langley‘s podcast. I was steeping myself in this way of considering the horse that was a fundamental shift in my approach as much as possible.

    I had some nice changes with Khaleesi over the year that I’m loving watching take root into an early harvest this Spring. As we prepare for some events this year, I can feel her new levels of relaxation and adjustability in movement! However Wyoming and I had a rougher go of the changes and trying to sort out how to understand each other in a better way. Last summer there were a fair amount of death threats (probably from each of us) as the lines of muddled communication began to untangle, and sometimes things get looking worse before they begin to smooth out.

    Regardless, I knew there was something important in the process so I kept at it.

    Then the horses moved home in November which has been a big change for all of us that is settling in nicely now six months into it… and I’ve begun to spend some time working with them again.

    The initial work with Wyoming this year has been promising, and in the subsequent sessions, I’ve seen continued progress toward more partnership. Certainly the difference rests mostly in me. Change is possible, but it has to begin with “me” because usually the horse is a perfectly good horse doing what horses are created to do, and usually what the exhibit is in response to the way their environment (mostly human caused) has shaped in them. So regardless of who that human (or humans) were and what it was that did the shaping- that’s not nearly as important as where to go next. The change has been happening in me as I continue to seek and grow and take an honest assessment of my flaws and weaknesses in order to commit to address them.

    I’m encouraged by the start of this year, and it gives me hope that there really is change possible for the two of us. I have a sliver of excitement that maybe this could be “the year” for Wyoming and me to begin to function together in a positive way!

    Change is possible, but it has to begin with “me”

    People have mentioned lately that staying with this dysfunctional situation for over six years must mean I have a whole lot of patience and determination. I suppose in some respects that is a little true. However… I remind them that she had more patience and determination to help me, because she is the one who refused to get on a trailer for that long- and I live in the end of nowhere… which meant I couldn’t move her on if I wanted to and pass her education on to someone else! Unless I was willing to shoot a perfectly healthy horse (which I did consider once or twice, but never seriously!) I wasn’t left with many options but to keep slogging onward. Considering in all those years of lots of sound and fury and threatening, she only once gave me a bruise from trying to bite the halter and grazing my arm, I think she’s been the one to praise. Apparently she never gave up on me.

    I won’t get ahead of myself yet. We have a long journey ahead of us, but I think we’ve begun to sort out a better path, and maybe you’ll begin to see some exciting changes in our story this season… stay tuned and see!

    Meanwhile, here are two videos that will show more than my words are able how the progress is coming for now.

  • The horse that was never wrong (for one day).

    The horse that was never wrong (for one day).

    April 3, 2024

    I scrolled through a video recently where Mark Langley was leading a distracted horse around an arena at a clinic, and whenever the horse attempted to blow past him instead of correcting the horse, he simply changed direction and the horse found himself right back slightly behind Mark (where he preferred the horse positioned). He did this with such grace and softness that it didn’t feel as though the horse was being tricked or punished. Mark played to the onlookers as if he had possibly forgotten something the other direction, or maybe dropped a coin and needed to step back to find it, or was otherwise distracted himself. This mental state was meaningful because the scene playing out didn’t carry any weight of correction. It was a human and a horse navigating around an arena where the horse kept finding himself in exactly the place the human wanted him to be — without judgement. 

    The horse began to take interest in what was happening with the human at the end of the lead rope, this began to become more engaging than the worry about his environment, and eventually the horse stayed in the zone Mark wanted him. It was as if he had figured out the puzzle instead of being trained or corrected into place. I heard Mark say (this is a paraphrase):

    This horse came in here distracted and fearful of this new environment. In this case, with this particular horse who tends toward fear reactions, if I were to harshly correct or punish him for his distracted pushy behavior, I would be increasing his fear reaction by making him more afraid of me than the environment.

    The kind of horsemanship I’m interested in is not formulaic, and when posing a question to anyone worth their salt content, the most likely answer will probably sound like a variation on: it depends. The sticky wicket is that a real solution means understanding the root cause and usually a good horseman needs to see what’s going on with their own eyes to notice things that many of us don’t see unless pointed out. They then interpret it with a best guess, and usually after that comes trying something to see if the guess on the right track, and then how the horse responds will determine the way forward for that particular creature in that scenario. Anyone who claims can fix problem X, Y or Z with a three-step, five-step, or any set rubric is selling snake oil, and oddly enough, even snake oil works for a percentage of things….

    Mark does a pretty decent job of explaining what his approach is and allowing for the “it depends but you might consider trying….” Which considering we can’t all get to Australia (or Virginia!! We have spaces still available for his USA tour 4-day clinic in Greenville, VA, July 4-7, 2024) can give some ideas to people with fewer resources close to home. So, to clarify, the scenario I watched was not the one and only best answer to a horse who blows past a handler in leading. It was a unique scenario where this response from Mark taking into account the circumstance and the horse’s personality and what Mark had to offer helped to support a struggling horse and bring peace and a present mental state. 

    This is probably not what my go-to with Khaleesi would be if she was not leading well. However, as I watched, I connected some dots to Wyoming, who is also a fear-reaction-type horse that is on hypervigillance most of the time. I am certain my past training in correcting behaviors I did not want to continue, created in her more fear and anxiety than supporting her confidence and certainly did not bring her peace and a present state of mind. Considering this is what I think about moving forward with her I made a mental note and thought I might play around with that idea when we had some time.

    Then Monday came, and I had some time.

    My goal was somewhat nebulous: Work together in a way that gave her the least amount of ill feeling possible.

    Wyoming packs around some baggage and isn’t entirely cooperative to my plans most days. I was toying with what it might look like to not “correct” her when we begin to diverge in plans. 

    Could I work with Wyoming in a way where she doesn’t feel wrong, but can I renegotiate to make things work out together better for us both? Can I adjust to keep us at least loosely on my plan for the day and… somehow set it up so that she simply lines up with what I’m doing almost naturally? 

    In the past, I’ve corrected Wyoming in ways that have been, in her opinion, overly harsh and unfair. Can I help Wyoming make choices that work out better for us without her having ill feelings about the work? How can I shape her behavior patterns without her feeling negatively about our relationship and disconnect us (and not descend into complete positive reinforcement either– we’ve gone there for a time and it’s is missing some components we need for a strong connection)? Can I find ways for us to cooperate and her to become increasingly willing to work together? Can I change her mind about what to expect from me? What would that look like?

    I took the halter out to the yard and she eyed me suspiciously. I am sure they know what color halter has their name on it! Also, I probably don’t hide very well who I’m most focused on. That’s ok, I also have given up trying to manipulate my way too intelligent mares by tricking them. That erodes trust. None of my horses were born yesterday. 

    She knows what I’m doing there with the halter, and so I offered it to her. I’ve never had a mare who comes running to me and dips her nose in the noseband begging me for a work session or a ride… That being said, considering in seasons past she has occasionally all but threatened my life when I offer the halter, she showed pretty mild levels of disinterest instead of dragon ears and nipping at me, and though she had the entire yard to walk away, and she did not. She stayed with me as we negotiated the terms of our connection for the day. Eventually her nose went in the band with minimal fuss and I was able to tie a good knot as she tentatively decided to give me a chance today.

    Upon walking out the first gate, through the “front yard” I played the make direction changes against my straight line nature and we made arcs and loops around the yard in the general direction of the second gate. I liked this exercise for the moment. Not only did it stop her from getting ahead of me and cutting me off (don’t take me away from my herd please) but I didn’t have to correct her with a flag swish or rope bump- I simply changed direction and she found herself always positioned just in the right place to follow my lead. She didn’t get frustrated or worried, instead, she seemed curious and she kept herself within a certain boundary to me (I never had to adjust my lead rope) and figured out the game which was emotionally neutral. 

    When we made it to, then through, the second gate, I rewarded her with some fresh spring grass and hand grazed her a minute or so. 

    So far so good! 

    Next, I decided to open the trailer and see where we were since November. The divider is currently out which means its a more open feeling box. I walked on and didn’t do much more than that. Again, as Tom reminds me, she knows what’s going on here. We’ve been playing with trailer loading in this very trailer since she came her years ago. She considered, took a moment at the end of the ramp, and I paused to wait. She came right in, then backed out, came back in, backed out calmly, asked me a few questions, and without ever having to make it “uncomfortable” with the flag, she found the relaxed space in the box with me and never became worried or agitated. I walked her off to hand graze and then went back about four times and each time she was less concerned being in the adventure box.

    Loading practice

    That was a great first day back in the trailer!

    Next I walked her up the driveway to the front of the house where the saddle was set out. I also have some grass in my front yard as a bonus! I groomed her minimally for mud and a layer of shedding fur, and tacked her one step at a time, taking a little circle walk or hand grazing in between and found she never had that ill feeling surface. Only in tightening the girth did she turn her head with a hard eye… I kindly asked her if she might just keep her head straight and “look over that way” if she’s going to give me the stink eye, while I do this, and she relented without much fuss. I also tightened in increments and gave her a little walk circle or a moment to graze in between that as well. 

    I had not believed I could get to riding before things would fall apart on this day one back in work, but here I found myself. How might I ride her around the yard without bringing up the ill feeling she had gotten in riding previously? I thought it over and decided I would set up a little game… In front of my house was the patch of grass she’d been enjoying off and on, what if I got on her a ways down the driveway and encouraged her to walk toward the house and grass patch? Motivation and purpose can be incredibly helpful. 

    And so I took the mounting block down the driveway and stood on it. I reminded myself as I’d done the whole session, just like the halter, the trailer, she knew what we were doing here. In the past, when I asked her to line up with me to mount, she nipped and showed concern, but today I waited a moment while she walked in an arc trying to negotiate her position. I simply stood still and let her sort herself out. She eventually put herself in the perfect position. I put a foot in the stirrup, said a little prayer for grace, let my breath out, and sat in the seat. She stood calmly while I rubbed her and waited a while…. 

    I made the intention not to be in a hurry. I rubbed her and relaxed, thought about where I wanted us to go, then sat up, opened my arm out with the lead rope and tried gently to bring up some energy. Wyoming is incredibly sensitive and if I bring up my energy sharply she feels it like a rude slap in the system. So I dialed up the volume of “walk” in me until I felt her begin to shift. She only took a couple steps but it was a start and she did it without ear pinning or offense. I continued to ask her to take a few steps at a time toward the grassy patch and when we finally made it I dismounted and offered her a moment of grass. We repeated this cycle a few times. 

    The second time I saw a remnant of that past bad attitude and as I gently tried to direct her (probably at this point erring on the side of not enough clarity which is also super annoying to a horse like Wyoming) she reached toward the stirrup and made an attempt to bite my toe. Thankfully I have metal wrapped western monels for her to make contact with and I didn’t have to do a whole lot to redirect her (not even horses like making teeth contact with metal). A few more circles than last time and we made it back the grass. This time she did not try to eat. I think she was more engaged with our activity which is not a bad thing. 

    We did a third time toward the house and it was a mixed bag of wandering, but it was complete success if one is looking for absence of ill feelings from either of us, and I decided three times was enough for a Monday afternoon and I took off the tack. 

    On the way back to the herd I stopped at the trailer and we diverted back inside the box for a moment and it was relaxed and easy. Then we wandered slightly circuitous toward the inner gate to the herd. After entering I walked a few steps and removed the halter from a very quiet mare. 

    After setting her loose she stood there with me in no rush to disconnect. This is a good sign. We must have done something of value for her to decide to stay close once she’s turned loose.

    Looking back, I was pleased with this session. One reason I’ve waited so long to take time to work her outside the yards was because I haven’t felt ready to take on the battle the work with her can become. This approach put a check in the positive column and considering we have some baggage and negative past experiences, that is not a bad thing. 

    And yet…. as I processed the session with Tom, he reminded me that this mare still gets offended at being asked to do anything not in her play book at the moment. When she’s asked to “let go” of her own thought and “come along with me” she chooses to fight about it and has learned to hang on to those thoughts with much more force than is reasonable for an equine companion. 

    This is true.

    Sometimes one has to get big enough to break loose that hard thought and come out the other side feeling better about it, and yet I’ve gotten into those situations with her where I try to get bigger and actually, I can get pretty big, but even though I can prevail, I’m not certain she feels any better for having complied in the end. Our relationship has not improved for that experience. I don’t believe this is because the work Tom is referring to isn’t important and necessary, it’s more that I don’t always have the ability to bring it to positive on the backside. We just end up in a fight, that I kind of win (if you can call it that) and that’s not what he means when he talks about getting big enough to make a change for the better. And without more experience actually doing that work, I am not likely to magically get better at it either.

    This is where I sit in the journey, where things are murky and less clear than I like. This is where a formula would be fantastic and I understand why people prefer that kind of horsemanship. The kind that gives an answer.

    I was glad to have a day where the relationship was on a positive feel between us and I still got done what I had hoped for. It is never a bad thing to have a good feeling day with your horse. In fact, I think I might could use to rack up some good feeling times together where we both feel successful and neither of us had to deal with fear. In truth, I do have to sometimes deal with fear with the dragon mare (though I try not to allow it to rule me), and I believe that she also faces fear when I take her out of her comfort zone and take away her ability to self-determine her reactions to anything that might come our way. 

    This is why we can’t go together into the real world yet because I can’t promise a perfect conditions bubble out there, and we don’t have the tools to come together if things go sideways without a bit of a wreck. The positive feeling day did little to seek out the hard resistant places inside her and help heal and release them either or work on tools to get through a mess without it being a wreck. This stuff still lurks down there and will show up again no matter how good I get at helping her “feel” good about our work.

    A good relationship is not one that thrives as long it is always kept in happy, predictable, safe places. That is actually a very weak relationship. A good relationship is one that can withstand challenges and unhappy feeling, that can stand firm in fear and stress even if it’s not pretty. A good relationship won’t disconnect in the messy unpredictability of real world circumstances. 

    Wyoming having a session with me where she was never directly confronted or corrected I believe had value for us. But the short of it is, it won’t be the way we work every day. We have some things to expose that will demand some confrontation of what’s going on deeper down. We don’t have to tackle all of it in a day though.

    Looking forward, I get to consider how to approach our work, and thankfully my friend, author and horseman Tom Moates visits semi-regularly (contact me if you want to come on board and join us on our 2-day roving clinics!) and it’s nice to have someone farther along the trail to help poke the places that will bring about the fight to help us move through them without getting stuck there or disconnected. I still need some help with her gaining the tools to keep the connection even when things go sideways.  

    The beautiful thing about this all, is I believe we can continue to improve.  We can open up some of those old places that have gotten scar tissue and some infection, created disconnection, and we can, in time, get better. This solid relationship doesn’t happen by accident. It happens through working out challenges together and coming out the other side still able to trust each other. The only way it can get stronger is to be tested. 

    I am grateful for the people who have gone before me on this road to “better” who help me see things I wouldn’t otherwise see, and help me to grow. In life as well as horses, we should all consider who is it that we are looking up to? Who are we following behind and learning from intentionally? What do they look like and would I be honored to think someday I might resemble them? And who is coming up behind us that we are investing in with what we have to offer?

    That, more than anything else, is what this whole thing is all about. That is the stuff that will last.

    I took some clips of the work from the day this blog was composed and spliced them into a short highlight video. Watch below:

  • Do you want to know a secret?

    Do you want to know a secret?

    Anything will give up its secrets if you love it enough. Not only have I found that when I talk to the little flower or to the little peanut they will give up their secrets, but I have found that when I silently commune with people, they give up their secrets also – if you love them enough.

    George Washington Carver

    George Washington Carver revolutionized agriculture in the South after the Civil War. Working with children of ex-slaves in a land exhausted by cotton and a painful history, his hope was to “improve the lot of the man farthest down.” He made it his purpose to find ways to renew the land and teach farmers about self-sufficiency and conservation. An article from Tuskegee University revealed that: Dr. Carver took a holistic approach to knowledge, which embraced faith and inquiry in a unified quest for truth, believing that commitment to a Larger Reality than ourselves is necessary if science and technology is to serve human needs rather than the egos of the powerful. His belief in service was a direct outgrowth and expression of this.

    This resonated with me. I also am on a unified quest for truth in each part of my life with a commitment to a Larger Reality (a creator God) who gave us an orderly world to be studied and deep truths uncovered that hold true in many different applications. I also believe if we seek in honest humility and the heart to love and serve other instead of self we will have more clear vision and understanding.

    In other words, in the language of Dr. Carver:

    Anything will give up its secrets if you love it enough.

    This quote came at a time when I had begun to see what appeared to be positive changes in my progress with Wyoming, and I had been considering what was bringing about the change after so many years… It is always likely the change is more in me than she (my wild mare is already just about perfect at being herself) but what was the change in me? I knew it was a deeper level of serving her needs above my own, which coincides to a deeper love for her than I’d been walking out previously.

    I am also a violinist and I’ve played more weddings than I could count. There was a local Catholic priest who always had the same wedding homily. He would talk about love. I remember him saying we throw the word around for too many things— we love chocolate or coffee or wine or soccer or traveling or staying home… we love people to death (what does that even mean?) in English we have one word and we use it to speak of our favorite sports team in one minute and our “till death do we part” spouse in the next. I don’t think I completely followed him to what this meant about marriage, but the point that our language falls dreadfully short in expressing more accurately what we feel-choose-carry in the way of affection.

    I have always said, and believed, I love my horses. More than chocolate (anyone else humming along to that lyrics your love is better than chocolate… better than anything I think I’ve tried….) But what did it really mean to say I loved my horses, and was it true? Could it be truer?

    What I propose in this meandering ponderance of truth, love, and deep secrets, is that a shift came in me that brought new levels of improvement between Wyoming and myself. I really do like her- even as she has been unable to cooperate with me in any way that could be seen as successful from any angle for about seven years (that’s a long time to have and try to work with an uncooperative horse I think for most people…) and regardless of her performance I have been dedicated to staying in the process with her. Yet though I’d say I love her, I realize how I saw her was a problem/project to conquer. This summer, gradually, I began to see her less as a complicated mystery to untangle, less a representation of my current failure to work with an equine I’ve had in my care for many years… and I began to see her.

    As I was able to release more of my ego, to let go of my need to fix things and solve problems, I began to have a more authentic compassion for her, how she feels, and what her experience was in all of this. The filter I’d been seeing her through which created some minor distortions was disintegrating, and the more I truly loved her (instead of what I might be able to do with her, or how she could perform for me, or even what she could teach me) the more I had clear vision of what was happening in the moment between us.

    Wyoming has been challenging, but I often related to her strong willed, fiery spirit and refusal to go along with a program that was not working for her. The mare in all these years has never given up on me, and I haven’t given up on her. We’ve gotten in a few near wrecks, and yet she has always come back to reconnect with me and try again. For a mare that occasionally threatens my life, she actually has a lot of grace. 

    But did I love the horse? I wanted to. I thought I did, and maybe I did in part, but not the way I have come to recently.

    I didn’t understand: what was it that kept her from walking in the compliance I could extricate from Khaleesi? What on earth did this horse have to fret about? She didn’t want for any necessity, including pasture, a stable herd to depend on, shelter, non-invasive but attentive health and nutrition care… I’ve never been able to ask much of her- so her life is pretty ideal it seems from my human point of view. I could not wrap my head around why on earth she could be so snarky and grumpy at every interaction that wasn’t custom fit to her short sighted equine demands. I’ve had her checked out physically on just about every level. This inability to understand what could possibly be so bad that she’d threaten to take me out when I try to work with her has been mystifying.

    This is not happy to see me…

    Then I began to work with Tom Moates, who has been a Godsend for getting an outside pair of eyes on us and guiding me to work with her within the truths he has picked up from years of close work with Harry Whitney. His regular visits to help us sort out a better path have been a game changer to chipping away at the trouble we seem to get into.

    That doesn’t mean it’s been roses and sunshine. Honestly, it has looked on the surface like everything was getting worse, yet I sensed something was different this time. I felt that deep tuning fork reverberate, telling me that we were going deeper in, digging out some wounds, some history, some infection, some sewage, but if we could face these things together and try to release them without fear, maybe this time we might get to a new place. So I kept trying.

    Over the summer, armed with guidance from Tom in person and via email/video, I spent many hours a week trying to find common ground. Wyoming’s stall (aka the shark tank) has been my classroom this year.

    The halter has always been sticky to some extent. Though for years I have been able to get her head in the rope halter (and she will comply), I have always sensed that it was not ok. My gut tells me this is a key: the halter is a basic loss of her freedom, and it takes a lot of trust to volunteer to submit to anyone in that way. I am still not on her list of trustworthy enough to relinquish that level of control.

    It is worth considering that putting a halter on a horse- a very small piece of equipment- takes away almost entirely their ability to self govern. There are limits, horses can jerk a lead rope out of a human’s hands, or I’ve had Tom tell me I looked a bit like a kite as she pulled me right off the ground in retreat, but once we have the ability to control the somewhat delicate head with all those nerve endings and the soft tissue places around the nose, we have a powerful level of force over them, especially if tied secure to a post with a strong rope. 

    Over the years I have tried to find better ways to use the halter than force, and last year when I heard Mark Langley talk about guiding horses instead of driving them it impacted me as kernels of truth tend to do when I hear them. Being prey animals, horses can be driven into things especially if we have a halter/lead rope that prevents real escape. I have driven her over the years to do a lot of activities, but she has never felt good about it, and no matter how pretty and snappy she looks trotting or cantering around me, she is not relaxed or happy.

    I didn’t not love her. I wanted what was best for us both, which is a cooperative relationship with her humans. She lives in a human world now. The wild life is not all it’s cracked up to be so I do not agree that she would be better off left on the range. There’s starvation, drought, predators, and extreme weather there. I doubt she would be less fearful than she is here when she goes into high alert when the deer roam through at night.

    Still, I didn’t know how to help her or me, and I flailed around with various levels of success and unsuccess and the mysteries remained out of reach.

    As I continued to regress this summer to the most basic fundamentals, I once again asked: can you be ok with me putting the halter on you? I found myself summoning the courage (thank you Tom for being the guinea pig and flag man) to open the stall gate and stand in the gap, vulnerable to attack,and offer the halter to her knowing she could choose to take me out. But oddly enough, if I came in with too much self-protection, she felt the fear brace in me, she would brace right back against me, and we could not breach the impasse. I had to make the choice to risk being hurt and show up with a white flag (actually no flag) instead of a weapon. With some basic safety in mind, I would hold out the halter from one knot away from my body so the noseband draped open and allowed her to make the choice to put her nose in on her own.

    I did not encourage her to bite at the halter. It’s not good manners at the minimum, and I don’t want her nipping at my tools to “work out for her” but the other problem is, her reaction to that piece of equipment is actually that strong so I also had to acknowledge that without punishing her. I don’t want her to spend her life thinking it’s ok to bite at my equipment- or at me, and I don’t want to send the message that I don’t want to know what she’s thinking or feeling. It was a very fine line, how to express ones thoughts and feelings in an appropriate way! I’m sure I did not always successfully navigate this delicate balance and it takes impeccable timing. She must think it’s her action of nipping at the halter that creates the reaction that might be a poke from my finger at her cheek, but that she has control of not being poked (try not nipping at the halter!). The right instant timing is action-reaction; just a moment too soon in anticipation is picking a fight; enough delay becomes punishment (which we NEVER want). However, as I began to care more about how she felt and helping her, than getting my task done without being injured, something shifted.

    It seems that letting go of what I really wanted was the path toward actually receiving what I really wanted.

    Harry and Tom both talk about creating an imbalance that the horse will work to correct. Take for example how a bit works. When the human takes “hold” of the bit in some way, it creates an imbalance that the horse will move its entire body around to fix, which is how we can control so many things along a huge animal’s body with a small piece of metal carried in the mouth.

    I had come to see that just my presence creates a strong imbalance for very sensitive Wyoming. I can stand in Hope’s stall doorway a very long time before she bothers to find out why I’m there. I might need to make some noise to get her to care at all. With Wyoming it’s different. Even without the halter, just standing at her stall gate, it did not take long before she stopped munching on hay and began to move. She looked out her window… but she was not unaware of me, she was trying to find peace, and if she could send her mind out the window it might help, but, as I waited I saw it did not work for her. My presence was still too disruptive even if I did nothing but stand there.

    I added the halter and this was even more disruptive without making a sound. The same looking out the window was her first try to make things right, then she would look at me, then look back out the window, then look at me again. Then she would take a step in a circle toward me, and pin her ears giving me threatening dragon face. Maybe she could scare me away. Nope. I just stood there with the halter held out. She would step toward me and nip toward the halter, I would do various things to discourage that without picking a fight. Then she would stand with her nose over the half wall/gate to khaleesi’s stall, a position that would be very hard for me to force the noseband on her. And I would still wait. Someday, I hoped she might choose to allow the halter. If she would choose, it would change everything.

    In the process of this I could see the depth of how disturbing this was for her. It didn’t make sense in my human brain, but I could not disregard what was in front of me. I began to be intensely curious toward this dynamic. She did not go back to eating hay. She would occasionally cycle back to the window, but never for long. For most of the time she would stand very close to me, I could touch her with the halter on the neck, or other parts of her body, but she did not want that noseband to capture her. In all this I did nothing to force her to participate, and yet participate she did, in the all the ways she could. 

    I had begun paying more attention to what the truth was for her, as strange as her truth seemed to me, than what I was trying to do or get done. 

    Gradually I was able to halter her with increasing relaxation. This process wasn’t a dramatic moment where she chose as I hoped to put her nose in the halter voluntarily. It started with a shift in position where she seemed to suggest: I cannot bridge this gap yet, it’s too much for me, but if I stand here quietly you can put the noseband up my nose and I will try not to fight you. 

    The reason I believe this is accurate, is because when she did begin to position herself allowing room where I could put on the noseband, she had minimal nippy reactions, and once the halter was on and tied she began to relax there in the stall with me. This is a time when I would stand there in the stall with the halter on, rub on her, scratch her, breath deep, and make it a really nice place to be together. It was here I began to notice just how much tension she carries in her neck. She has such a level of self-protection about her it’s no wonder she feels terrible. 

    Some of the work this summer staying in tune to how she is feeling in the work

    As summer melted away to fall, I had a shift in routine that meant I had to bring the horses in and out of the barn across the yard to a remote pasture which meant I had to halter them. I knew this would come and it concerned me- having to take my life in my hands to manage the wild thing did not sound fun (in the summer I could get the halter on or walk away and it didn’t really matter, now I had to get this job done in order to move her). However the foundation we built through the summer set us up for success.

    At first I’d move the herd one at a time. I liked spending the time and attention on Hope solo, who is slow, as we did the walk together. Khaleesi is pretty manageable at whatever pace or need, but Wyoming benefits from focus and clarity in everything we do, so walking her alone was preferable. This meant some days I would start in the barn and take Khaleesi into the remote field. When I returned Wyoming was already becoming stressed because of the imbalance in her environment (herd separation). She is smart enough to realize that it was the halter that was her pathway to rebalancing in rejoining her lead mare. Instead of a mess or violence I would step into the stall and she would come to me and dip her head at the noseband (very willing) and I had to ask her to slow down and not revert to autopilot with her brain already in the other field and her body stuck with me (this the the condition where a horse has lost her mind). In this way she began to invite the haltering process because it had meaning attached to it she wanted to engage in. Similarly in the large field where I worried I might never catch Wyoming again, she was usually the first one who came to me and agreed to the halter to go back into the barn for breakfast and a break. This new routine I worried might get one of us killed actually helped us establish some good patterns.

    One of the days I moved them all at once for necessary efficiency…

    Looking back however, it was one of the days I was rubbing and scratching the mare in her stall trying to help her see she could let go and relax and trust me even with the halter on, that the rock hard muscles in her neck simply would not relax. Even as her eyes began to soften and she was reveling in the butt and underbelly scratches she was getting, the tension was rooted deep, and it was here that something broke loose inside me.

    Harry Whitney says it would really help horse people if they could learn to recognize the motions that go with good emotions, and the motions that go with negative emotions. As I stood next to this wild creature who has lived with us for seven years, I realized looking back how much tension and brace this horse carries all the time. Tears stung my eyes as I considered the depth of the worry she carries around, and I felt overwhelming compassion for her.

    I have not loved her like this before.

    I didn’t want to fix her issues. I didn’t want her to have safer “manners” for all the human interactions that would be required of a normal horse. I didn’t want to know I could get her on the trailer… I didn’t want to solve the problem of why I’ve had this horse seven years and can’t ride her still. I didn’t even want to know I could halter her without her nipping at me. (Although I did want those things, they became highly insignificant)

    I wanted to know how on earth I could intervene in her world in a way that could help her let go of some of what she was packing around, and that she would feel better about her life. I found myself begging for the insight that would help her to feel good for maybe the first time in her equine life since being rounded up on the range all those years back.

    This is when something began shifting anew.

    What changed?

    Me.

    I have always loved this horse, I thought.

    But not like this.

    George Washington Carver was knows for his humility and service. He cared so much for the people that were struggling, forgotten, rejected, or oppressed, that he went into his lab with the peanut and love poured out of him. A kind of love that opened up the secrets of the soil, the peanuts themselves, and in that place revelation came and revolutionized agriculture forever. Crazy and unscientific as it might seem, it was in his posture of love and not ego or fame or self-interest, the secrets were revealed.

    I had a glimpse that day in the barn with Wyoming, when my heart broke for the years I’ve seen her gallop across the field with tension through her body brought on by stress, neck raised and stiff, instead of that beautiful fluid movement that comes with relaxation and a stretching out of the muscles and joints, and I grieved that I hadn’t yet figured out how to help her. Not for my ego. For her.

    Hope Horsemanship carries a verse instead of a tagline or motto. It is Jeremiah 33:3 Call to me, and I will answer you, and will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known. I then pondered another truth in the same big book of wisdom: If I had a profound understanding of God’s hidden secrets… but have not learned to love, then I am nothing.

    We are not worthy of the deep secrets, we are not trustworthy of them, if we don’t love first and foremost.

    Wyoming, and most people around us- know the difference between saying we love and having that love authentically pouring out of us. You cannot fake what is in the heart. Not to a horse at least. Until she knew that love coming through me authentically, her secrets were kept under a tough braced up shell. She couldn’t trust me with vulnerability. This is a road. I have not arrived. Still, I can see progress.

    Wyoming trusts enough to willingly ride in the trailer for the first time.

    I wanted to say she didn’t have much choice, as a horse she couldn’t choose another owner. But the truth struck me that I also didn’t have much choice! Considering she wouldn’t get on a trailer to save her life, I didn’t have much opportunity to sell or give her away either! We have been bound together for some greater purpose. Now she appears to be at least somewhat loadable, but it’s too late to go back now. I am hers and she is mine. Hopefully the mystery will continue to reveal and it will be a good story when it’s all told.

  • Twisted.

    Twisted.

    There was a time when a beautiful day was not complete if I couldn’t ride my horse. If I had to work or was otherwise occupied it was hard to not imagine myself in the woods with my mare and be sad about whatever it was that kept me from that experience. My work is pretty great. I run a rural area music education program teaching K-12 age violin students. I am also on faculty at a local college teaching violin and chamber music. So it wasn’t about having a dead end job that was torture to log hours at. It was about where my mind was, how it became mysteriously separated from my body on particularly nice days, and about the tension of having a mind and body in two different places. I had quite lost my mind and was struggling to function without being present in the good work I had in front of me because of it.

    I currently have this island of misfit toys herd that I adore. I jokingly tell people I have a good horse, a bad horse, and a sick horse. It’s an oversimplification, and thus isn’t entirely true, but it makes for good conversation. 

    Anyone who follows my writing can connect the dots: my good horse is Ireland’s Khaleesi, the mare I took in as a feral four-year-old in 2014. I started her for better and worse, learned with her and grown alongside her. She is my endurance horse, and in June we finally conquered the single-day 100 mile race on one of the toughest courses the sport offers. I can get done just about anything I need to and she fills in for me a lot. She is a highly confident leader and makes me look pretty good much of the time. She is a beautiful gift to me and I enjoy her constantly. My challenge with magnificent K is I’m decent at getting things done with her in the natural horsemanship direct pressure style of working together that has left places our relationship can improve. The hard part that requires some vision is going back to learning new pathways together when things “work out pretty good” the old way. I know there’s more for us, but it’s going to take some time creating new experiences.

    The lovingly identified bad horse is Wyoming the wild (by the way I also have a bad dog I adore, so this seems to be a pattern for me!). She of course, is not at all a bad horse, she is my complicated challenging horse who does not fill in for me, who is not confident in herself or my leadership, and has required a lot of consideration, thought, growth, experimentation, and help in order not to give up on her and find some wilderness area to release her back into and wish her good luck. She’d probably survive; she has the skills. In fact, all she thinks about is her own self-protection and survival since she doesn’t trust it to me, yet. And why should she? Truthfully I haven’t proven adequate of that trust to her yet, and so I refuse to give up and am determined to keep growing into the kind of leader a horse like her requires. She is constantly demanding I get better. She has been a valuable gift to my development.

    The horse I hate to label but truthfully, in fact, IS the sick horse is darling Redemption’s Hope. She’s a discarded quarter horse that went through many hands before ending up in my barn. I took her knowing she was a shut down tangled mess, without realizing how big a mess was really in there. My plans for her were to help her feel better, learn the world of humans wasn’t such a terrible place, and voila, she would be a sweet natured horse kids or adults with less developed skills could get to know horses and learn to work with safely. She did that work about a year while her health devolved into such places where I have more than once been certain she would not survive. She has been the most expensive horse I’ve ever owned through vet bills and nutrition supplementation and support care in general. 

    I have come to see the gift she has brought me is an opportunity to love and support a creature who has zero ability to give back, and for an extended period of time. We are entering a third year of her very slowly coming into some kind of stable health, but due to the neurological signs from the EPM (I believe), she may well never be ridable, or even a horse who can physically respond to a request in a normal way again. I simply don’t know yet. Only time will reveal what little Hope’s redemption story will be.

    Loving Hope has cost me emotionally and financially. I am limited with my herd, at the moment I cannot expand to more than three horses and she is taking up valuable real estate. She has taught me the long process of showing up every day to what often feels like a hopeless situation and staying engaged. She has taught me what it is like to invest and care and love with no reliable expectation of gaining from that relationship. How often are we given such an opportunity to love in that way? I haven’t always seen it, but recently it shines of a glory I cannot fathom, how did I get so lucky to have this horse come to me and teach me this important lesson? The lesson of showing up even when there seems to be little hope, to love anyway. This does not come naturally to me. I needed some help, and she came.

    All of this came to mind recently as I rode my good horse around a local recreation area along the Jackson River. I am fortunate to live in a pristine and beautiful area that is still so rural and unpopulated we have not one traffic light in the entire county, the animals outnumber the people, and our pubic national forest land is somewhere like 75% over private property. I am insanely blessed, and also quite intentional about living here. I went out solo, rode about 7 miles around this beautiful park and in the couple of hours never saw another human. It was exquisitely perfect and I reveled in it not taking one moment for granted. It was perfection in the experience of riding a fabulous horse, on well kept trails, in a place of untouched beauty.

    As I pondered this, I realized something has happened to me over time. 

    I enjoyed this ride, however, today it occurred to me that I equally enjoy the time I spend working with Wyoming the Wild, even when a decent percentage of our time together she is threatening me because I’m pressing her comfort zone (necessary to give her the experience of seeing she can trust me and her life is not actually in danger). I am helping bring her lost mind back to the present reality in order to help her feel better about her life, and about our connection. At the moment in our re-started education program I have begun again at the point of not being able to put the halter on her without her feeling threatened. So I don’t. If one cannot halter a horse reliably I think that reveals just how far we are from being a riding partnership. 

    I don’t know what will become of Wyoming the Wild one in her education. I am stubborn and I generally refuse to accept that a horse cannot come to an understanding and work with a human- there are just ones where the bar is set too high for many (sane?) humans to consider reasonable… I am considering that she could be one of these special creatures. The alternative, which is also possible, is I’m just not skilled enough… but each year I’m finding that less and less likely the root problem. Let me assure you no pride in my skill level… She certainly has required I gain experience and understanding in order to succeed in helping her. I know how much I have to learn is deep and wide, but my hunger to grow covers a multitude of sins in the process. I don’t think it’s only my inexperience anymore. She’s a unique and complicated horse. How have I gotten so lucky to end up with her? I don’t believe in coincidences, I know she is just as much a gift as the good horse is.

    I have found that anymore I do not care nearly as much that I’m able to ride this horse as that we come together. I do want to be able to ride her, but I have found I love the time I spend with her, learning to show her she does not have to protect herself from me, that I am here to help her, and she is just perfect just the way she is, right now today. We will simply keep spending time together until things come right and then we will see what that looks like.

    I thought of the time I spend with Hope now, every day walking her slowly and intentionally, watching how she struggles to lift her front end and thus her front legs paddle around not to drag the ground. How can I help her to think about lifting first even her eyes off the ground and begin to think lighter in the the front? How can I help her start to rebuild her atrophied muscles that would support her body in better balance? We do tiny weight shifting requests just to begin the form of thinking the change that someday will mean she can walk normally again. How can I work with her so she isn’t stressed out which is when she begins to panic and her feet begin to cross over unnaturally like a horse who has neurological damage (she doesn’t do this if she is not in a panic).

    What creates this panic state for her? Her life has given her the experience that humans will demand things and then punish for non-compliance. Somewhere along the way I believe this horse wasn’t saying: No, I won’t… but she began to have physical limitations that meant No, I can’t. And when that happened her reaction leads me to guess she was punished. Now when I begin to ask things of her I can see the stress and worry set it. She either completely shuts down and is non responsive, or she begins to offer up anything she can muster getting her limbs all crossed and in a pretzel. The answer is not to quit asking anything of her (though I basically did this for almost a year thinking she needed the rest and recovery which may or may not be true), but instead to begin to ask her things she can do and to give her the time to think and do it, and not to punish her when she takes a long time to get there. She has been taught not to think but only to respond and quickly- my hope is that I can teach her she can think, she must think, and I will help her along the way.

    What I am realizing is I am finally beginning to find the real gift in being present in the reality of each horse, and asking how I can help them. My own mind is letting go of the idea that I have to have a riding (or teaching) goal for each horse and each day we do not get significantly closer to that goal brings frustration or irritation. As I let go of that way of thinking, I find not only peace in the process but a deeper joy in every moment we share. Even the struggles of which there are many right now. I am able to see opportunities where there were only roadblocks. I am curious about things instead of annoyed by them. 

    I recognize fairly quickly when I am getting all twisted up again.

    I have riding goals for Khaleesi. These are good. I believe the road I am on with Wyoming will include riding her again- and successfully – as well. I have a goal that Hope will someday have a body that works again in balance and be able to help humans to learn more about horses in some way.

    I think having goals is important. 

    Sometimes we have to adjust the goal.

    With Wyoming, I had the goal to be able to safely trail ride her including loading her on the trailer to transport. This year I’ve seen that she has way more deep anxiety that if I don’t address, none of that is going to function in strength. I’ve done the “grown up” thing and adjusted my goals to honor her needs… 

    This is where it gets so dicey and on a good day I can laugh about it…

    I adjust the goals to helping Wyoming get feeling better working with me and pat myself on the back for being such a highly developed horse person who truly puts the needs of my horse first and is willing to patiently work with them in the way they need.

    And then I find myself occasionally frustrated and annoyed when we have an “off” day and she comes at me with more violent snark than the previous day… or I had gotten to lay the rope over her back and she relaxed, whereas now if I stand in her zip code with the rope in hand and she pins her ears and threatens.

    Why? If my only intent was truly to help her, there would be no frustration. Frustration comes because I’m not getting my way and that reveals that I’ve made the new goal the central thing and I’ve once again gotten all twisted up around the good thing that isn’t supposed to be the ultimate thing and now I’m frustrated that she isn’t getting better!!! I am not making clear progress toward the goal of her getting better so help me mare you MUST GET FEELING BETTER WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM!?

    Lord. Help me. Every. Day.

    I still get twisted up.

    Do you ever get frustrated? I heard that a prey animal’s basic job is to frustrated a predator. Think about this… Predator wants a meal, so it chases the prey animal. Prey animal wants to live so it does all it can to evade and outrun the predator. The very definition of being frustrated.

    Frustrated: feeling or expressing distress and annoyance due to inability to change or achieve something.

    When we feel or express frustration we are acting like a predator. In the human world the definition of predator is: a person who ruthlessly exploits others.

    This is not the dynamic I want in my barn. This is not the dynamic I want in my life. Therefore I have sought to become more aware of when I feel that frustration rising in the dark space of my heart and it is now a warning signal: you have become twisted again. Stop. Regroup. Begin again and ask: how can I help?

    The good news is we are all given a certain amount of self-control and if we begin to use it, we can strengthen it! Each time that twist shows up in my relationships I can notice it and make a decision to change myself and my approach. I can decide not to be a frustrated predator.

    Not controlling another (horse or human) to manipulate or force into what goal I have that day is a much slower road to my goals, but it is the only way to my ultimate goal. I know there are many who won’t understand (why take the slow way of freedom and love? It’s incredibly ineffective), but when we get there it’s a million times sweeter, and the roads and detours are more peaceful and full of life.

    It always begins with me. Untwisted.

  • I thought I understood…

    I thought I understood…

    When it comes to any relationship, boundaries matter. I think Danny Silk has some great books out about powerful individuals, the importance of connection, how to love well (even your enemies) and the trap of confusing boundaries and punishment. He has a great book titled “Unpunishable” that addresses what he calls our culture’s addiction to the punishment paradigm and how to let go of this in our human relationships. I’ve read the book. I’ve put effort into understanding and walking this out in my own life.

    Then there are relationships with horses. I remember hearing Mark Langley say that boundaries are fixed and they don’t chase you. If you think you have a boundary with your horse but your boundary is in fact chasing your horse then it is not a boundary. 

    To make a finer point, I’ve heard Harry Whitney give an illustration about electric fences. I’m pretty sure Tom Moats has written about this too, but since I’ve recently read a handful of his books I can’t remember which one it’s in and who might have borrowed it… Harry explains that horses graze peacefully near an electric fence, very close to it, even sometimes reaching under it as far as they can without touching the strand. Most horses familiar with an electric fence are not afraid of it although no horses like the shock of coming into contact with it. Their experience is that the fence will not surprise them, ambush them, or chase them. Certainly the fence can be moved into new positions, but once the fence is fixed, the boundary is firm, clear, and potentially most importantly: not personal. There is no question if a horse gets shocked by the fence it was unemotional and non-judgemental. The fence isn’t angry, frustrated, fearful or otherwise emotionally embroiled in the process. No horse need be shamed or considered a “bad horse” for touching the fence and getting shocked; not very smart, maybe, but evil or bad are not part of the equation. Horses figure out quickly that the shock is a direct consequence of running into the fence and once they do it a couple times, it’s usually enough for them to avoid the strand in the future.

    Harry helping a horse with fear around its ears in a clinic in Vista, CA 2023

    This all makes perfect sense to me. 

    I thought I understood what a boundary is…

    Then I began to press into dangerous territory by interrupting Wyoming’s very strong thoughts — which opened the can of snarky-threats where she began to threaten me with dragon ears and teeth bared. What do I do about the violent threats?

    I had to think this through and I regularly found myself changing my position on what to do about it. Clearly this is NOT OK. I don’t care how you feel Wyoming, you cannot threaten to harm a human and continue to live here. In Mark Langley language “That is not available.” And in Harry-land “Let go of THAT thought mare.” 

    I thought: there is a boundary needed where that behavior is not tolerated and has an electric fence style wire that is tripped when you go there. On the other hand, it’s not as simple as setting up a “snark fence” that sends an electric shock clearly, effectively, and unemotionally at exactly the right time when the snark threat shows up. I have to set and enforce the boundary, and with my human limitations this could easily end up being unclear, questionable on its appropriate firmness, and most importantly could be rife with emotion no matter how hard I try not to be. There is a thin line between a boundary and a punishment, and this particular horse is quite sensitive to knowing which it is, and punishment always makes things worse between us.

    In June when I started over once again, I’d see her go volcanically violent when I asked for her attention on me while she was in her stall, and I’d stand still outside her reach as she would snake her ears and snap her teeth a few inches from my face. I’d say: thanks for giving me your attention, this is a start… And she would cuss me out in equine, threatening to chew me up and trample my carcass when she had the chance. But, I reasoned, I had all of her attention in that moment. Of course the hope was to get her to feel better about it, and I don’t think that interaction felt very good for either of us.

    The problem seemed to get worse. There were times I would be doing something completely unrelated to her in the next stall and I had to pay close attention to the eyes in the back of my head because she’d stick her nose over the gate threaten me even when I wasn’t asking her for anything. Even my presence began to get under her fur. It seemed to be increasing, so maybe allowing her to have these fits was not the best way forward. If I want to help my horse let go of hard thoughts, I reasoned, I need to find a way to basically say: LET GO OF THAT! When she turns to violence. The violence needs to not work out for her. Right now, I’m not so sure if it is or it isn’t working for her in her mind. So I tried answering the violence with what I hoped was a boundary. If I had my rope, I’d be ready when she circled back to rush the gate with her teeth bared to meet her with the rope as adapt as I could get with my timing in the hope she would begin to think whenever she had snarky-violent outbursts, she ran into something when she came at me and it was not pleasant. Like an electric fence ideally, one that only came on when you have a bad attitude. 

    I would have to be very consistent, as unemotional as possible, and match her in firmness as closely as I could. I wanted her to learn there is a boundary here and violence will never be tolerated.

    I had a couple lucky opportunities meeting her exactly when she came at me but it seemed to only make her more angry and more threatening, and if she backed off it was harder to see a change for her to soften and relax. I could get her to act less on her wish to chew me up and spit me out, but I don’t think it changed the fact that she wanted to. This approach didn’t seem to help her feel any better about being with me. In fact if anything I think she got better at planing quick sneak attacks in the hope she might get through the barrier. I liked the idea that I was trying to clarify that this aggressive behavior was NEVER acceptable, but it didn’t appear I was making real progress with this.

    It did not seem to be working out for me.

    The next shift back came one day when I was innocently cleaning the middle stall and Wyoming came over the gate with her head and began snapping her teeth at me. I wasn’t looking for her attention or demanding anything of her. This also means I was completely unprepared to meet her violence with what I hoped was a decent attempt at a boundary like a rope or a flag, or any useful tool.

    So I just stood there. 

    I stood there and watched her, inches from my face. She pulled back, did her little ramp up circle, snaked her ears and stuck her nose at me, teeth clacking away. I stood unmoving and completely unemotional, and slightly at a loss. I wasn’t “working” with her, I was just at the barn at that time. I simply observed her and paused in curiosity to watch what she would do thinking that I had screwed up the consistency of meeting her behavior with a clear boundary every time. Now what?

    As I watched she repeated the cycle which always included pulling back, doing a little circle, reflattening her ears, and throwing her head over the gate at me, teeth clacking. However, as I stood unmoving and completely curious (not upset, frustrated, angry or afraid) each time was less enthusiastic until finally she threw her head over the fence, froze with no bared teeth, softened her eyes and her ears perked forward. Now it was her turn to just stand there starting at me, curious.

    An example of Wyoming feeling softer and relaxed.

    It was this experience combined with the revelation about the cowardly lion who desperately wanted courage, that had me re-evaluate my attempt to “boundary” this behavior by meeting it with a tool of some sort. 

    First, I realized as I stood quietly out of her reach, there actually WAS a boundary. It was the gate that separated the stalls. That boundary was secure and clear. The truth of this scenario was that she cannot hurt me while the gate stays in place, and it’s screwed to posts with brackets, so it’s not going anywhere. 

    Second, my attempt to meet her violence with some kind of equal “boundary” with a rope or flag she would ideally “run into” wasn’t the wrong direction entirely, but in reflection I had to be honest with myself: I was meeting her fear with my own fear. I wanted to believe I was unemotional, but though I was decent at stuffing the emotion in the moment, it was there. I was afraid if I didn’t curb this behavior someone (probably me) was going to get HURT. I don’t think this concern was unreasonable or wrong, but regardless it was an underlying emotion. No matter how hard I tried, the boundary I wanted to put in place was smelling to her a whole lot more like a punishment.

    Third, though I wanted her to “run into her own pressure” somehow when she came at me, having the rope or flag or stick meet her physically was still “at” her. I started experimenting with creating a big sound instead where she did not like the shock of the noise, but it didn’t hurt. These details are obvious to me now, and really important, but I suppose that’s what a life of learning is about- the mistakes and the fixing of them and the growth from them.

    I know that we cannot meet fear with fear and ever find a better place. We can build a wall of self-protection and we can find ways to not get hurt when we meet fear with fear, but we cannot build connection that demands vulnerability and we cannot strengthen relationships. I pondered all that I’ve read and learned about these things and asked myself the million dollar question: so then, what must meet fear to dissolve it and heal the brokenness? 

    Only LOVE.

    Don’t give up on me here as you assume I am about to suggest going into the shark tank with no protection and singing to the creature who has promised me physical harm a refrain of Kumbaya as my only hope. That is not what I mean by love. Love in fact, must have boundaries because connection is worth protecting. I believe Wyoming when she’s told me she is in enough fear to hurt me if I press her, and me being attacked is not good for either me or Wyoming. If I love her and I’m seeking better connection with her, I will not put us in that situation.

    Danny Silk asks the question: how many pet rattlesnakes do you have? None.

    Because wise people don’t bring dangerous things into our houses- the place we feel safe, can be vulnerable and expect not to be attacked if at all possible. This is a boundary. No rattlesnakes in the house. We can love rattlesnakes and not invite them inside to play. Rattlesnakes can be loved at a distance.

    While Wyoming sees me as a rattlesnake and I see her a threatening dragon, we need to find a way to connect without expecting we will be in each other’s vulnerable place. My job is to find a way to connection with her, to answer her fear with love, and ideally have us not get hurt as we work through this process toward more trust. Both of us need more trust in the other. She has learned that I am wiling to drive and punish when I want something from her or when I am afraid, and I’ve learned she threatens violence when she is out of her comfort zone.

    During this process something began to change that was helpful. Wyoming went from always trying to kill the flag to relaxing when it touched her. The flag became the first tool she not only started to accept without violence, but if I did touch her with it she immediately quieted and would relax as it rubbed her. If the flag was floating along nearby, that made her nervous, but once it made contact she calmed down and began making suggestions where it might scratch and rub her. This gave me the ability to “pet” her without getting in the strike zone. This enabled me to begin to build trust not to punish while staying across a good boundary which kept us both more safe.

    Response to me asking her to give me her attention…

    Thus another shift in approach began for me. I kept myself outside her reach and began asking for her attention. When she would circle, turn, pin her ears and come at the gate I would say under my breath to her (in order to remind myself what she needed from me) Courage! and I would give her a hug instead.

    Me offering the ‘hug’ as a response while staying at a responsible distance for us both.

    Once again, I’m not a total idiot. The hug looked like me lifting up the flag and getting right in there and petting her as close to her head as I could (usually on the neck at first since she wasn’t a fan of the flag strips in her eyes and ears, but that is also changing). I could be a foot out of reach, completely without fear, and only responding with love.

    She considers my response…

    The love was saying: I know you’re afraid and you don’t trust me not to punish you. I know you haven’t felt very good about us working together, and you are like a porcupine walled up with layers of self-protection. It’s exhausting to manage your entire space like this all the time. Let me help you. Give me a chance to try things differently, to connect and care for your needs. And then see if we can work together as a team. Here, I’ll start.

    She softens as I refuse to meet her fear with my own fear and choose not to punish

    I realized that I have wanted to express that to this horse for years. I wanted her to trust me and allow me to help her. However when I was working with her in the punishment paradigm of direct pressure my words and actions were, to her, incongruent. I wanted to say: I am here to help you and I care about you, but my actions were saying: if you don’t do what I’m asking I will hurt you. I need you to comply with my program regardless of how you feel about it because I am the human and you are the horse and this is how it works.

    The flag-hug plan is showing positive changes in our time together. One immediate shift is I can walk around the barn and in her stall again without wondering if she will get flipped to angry-mode even if I’m not paying any attention to her. That was a disturbing phase we went through demanding me to be on high alert (more than normal awareness)— I’ve never been concerned about simply being in the barn with her ever before. I had not trusted being in her space enough since June to trim her feet and they had gotten way too long. Now I’m able to work on her feet and I do it a little each day. I do this without halter or lead rope right now as we are still trust building and she does not trust me yet to feel good about being haltered. For the time being I’m choosing patience on that as we sort out more pressing things.

    She loves being scratched with the flag so lately, our routine goes like so: I greet her, she comes into the barn “aisle” area on her own and I give her some good scratches with the flag. I do a little cleaning and trimming on each hoof and intermix flag scratching. After I get that work done I switch to using the flag to ask her to do something, take a step forward or backward, move away from me, look a different direction (this is beginning to influence her thoughts when they are softer which is a great step!). These things are very small and the scratching reward for giving me something simple is a part of the way we are building trust. All of this she can do and stay in a good feeling place. Almost no snark-threats come from these activities.

    Next I push a little deeper by getting in front of her and ask if she can let go of her vigilance to give me a moment of her attention, center up, and straight on me. I get different degrees of “not really” at this point. I have a little distance, and can effectively block a straight on snark-attack with my flag hug right between the eyes. She doesn’t love that kind of hug yet, and it redirects her to choose a response less violent- sometimes she stays with it and tries again a little softer (she IS trying!), sometimes she chooses to go back into her stall and disconnect with me entirely. That is ok. She gets to make that choice, and it opens the door for me to close the door, allow her the “safety” of her bedroom, and then to stand outside the door and knock so to speak. 

    Right now this is our most intense level of interaction, but I think it’s also where the most important work is being done. In her stall, with a boundary in place for both of us, I will press in to a deeper ask where I know she’s going to be less comfortable. If we never press into here, she can’t have the experience to see it’s going to be different than she expects. With a horse, one cannot use words to explain, we have to change the experience. I can’t change the experience without creating the situation she is afraid of and showing her it will not destroy her.

    I ask for her to let go of whatever else has her attention and give her full attention to me. She reverts to dragon attack, threatens me and doesn’t even stay long enough to bite at me over the gate. She dismisses me immediately and turns her hind end to me going back to the more important thing. At this point I make the biggest slam noise I can with the flag against something (plywood wall, or an unopened bag of shavings is pretty loud too!). She hates this noise but it is not a threat of pain. I am not coming at her, I’m not driving her hind end around, I am staying outside her stall. In essence I’m setting a bomb off right outside her door. I want to be worthy of her full attention. I hope to draw her over because nothing is more important than the sound of a bomb going off right outside your door. Appearing enraged, at first she comes back with her dragon act and each time she dismisses me to turn away I make the sound as full and loud as possible until she realizes this will happen until she makes a different decision. If she threatens, I give her a flag hug. Eventually all I have to do is make a clucking sound with my tongue and she squares up looking directly at me over the gate and each day sooner and sooner she relaxes and looks at me curiously.

    Well ok then? What is so important then you need my full attention?

    I just want a connection with you. Thank you for that. 

    Then I pet her on her forehead with my hand as she relaxes there, and I open her gate so she can choose to stay or go- this is the last part of our time together so I want it to end with her feeling soft and relaxed, but also as I am leaving, she can put her attention wherever she likes. 

    Most often, if I have the horses locked in their stalls, and then I come (not to interact) only to release them, Wyoming is respectful enough to walk past me, clearing my space before she bursts into the field at a full on canter to be freed at last. When I release her after we have connected she stays in place for a time. Sometimes, after I walk off to leave, she will leave her stall at a walk, sometimes she circle back into her stall and munch hay, but she never blasts off, because her mind and her body at that moment are united where we had connected.

    This is a place of peace, a place she feels good. 

    And that is what we both want for her.