Tag: transformation

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.

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!

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. 

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. 

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!