I'm on a podcast!

Hi everyone!  Just a quick check-in to let you know that Felicity Davies graciously invited me to be on her podcast, Equestrian Perspective, and our chat is now on Spotify (episode 112).  I loved talking with her and being able to share my story in a different format.

A Pivotal Moment, conclusion

I had trouble falling asleep that night just thinking about the session and what we might see in Freya.  Would she be completely different?  Completely the same?  Somewhere in the middle?  But once I did fall asleep, I slept all the way through the night until morning, which is something that never happens.  Normally I wake up at least twice and then when I wake up, my brain starts going at 100 mph.  So I felt pretty good the next day with the first good night's sleep in a long time.

I had to work a full day so I didn't get out to the barn until well after 5.  Freya was waiting at the run-in shed for me, which wasn't unusual.  Gemma and I typically bring the horses in for dinner every day, but I run late on Fridays because of my work schedule.  Her face was happy and she seemed to feel good when I put the halter on.  As I walked her to her stall, I realized that the muscles on her body were moving differently.  Her lower neck, her shoulders, and her haunches were all...well...jiggling in a way that seemed different.

And after I brought Donut in, I noticed something else.  There is another mare in the field that becomes absolutely inconsolable whenever we bring Freya and Donut in, so we always bring her in too.  Her separation anxiety has been going on for months and had actually been escalating for the past couple of weeks.  And yet, that night, she was happily grazing in the field and didn't seem to even notice that Freya and Donut were gone.  Why would our session have impacted this other mare?  I have absolutely no idea.  The only thing I can think of is that maybe something changed in Freya's energy that changed the way the other mare interacted with her.

As part of the session, Freya had communicated that she needed a couple of days to process what had happened during the session, and Gemma and I actually gave her three days before we did anything other than basic handling and a little brushing.  But Gemma noticed immediately that Freya's body felt different when she brushed it because the muscles didn't seem so hard.

And in case you are wondering if we are imagining it, I have a couple of videos to show you.  One is from a recent ride before the Connection Reading and the other one is a few days after the reading.  Pay close attention to how Freya's shoulder looks in both videos and you should see the difference.

Here is the video pre-Connection Reading:

Here is the video post-Connection Reading:

 

Could something else explain the difference?  I'm sure Rational Me could come up with something.  Perhaps all the body work that I've been doing finally had some kind of exponential effect that coincidentally appeared the day after the session.  But I think it is more likely that the difference is a result of the work we did during the session.  Exactly how, I have no idea.  But I'm learning that there is more to our existence than our five senses.

And another interesting thing is that we noticed Freya was acting like she was in a new place when Gemma took her on the first ride post-Connection Reading.  You'll see she wasn't in Pillar 1 like in the first video because she was alert and looking around.  She wasn't spooky, but she did spend the entire ride struggling a little bit to focus and stopping to look at things, as if she was seeing the farm for the first time, even though she has been living there for almost two years.

But here is the twist.  You may remember that I was really struggling with my grief for Nimo.  It was overwhelming at times.  About two days after the session, I realized that I hadn't been crying or sad since the session.  In fact, when I thought about it, it occurred to me that for the first time in three years, I could think about Nimo without wanting to burst into tears.  I could listen to certain songs on my playlist that normally made me feel very sad, and I didn't feel sad anymore.  And the more I tuned in to how I felt, the more I realized that my chest felt different.  It was like this pressure that had been so constant wasn't there anymore.  (And I'm just going to remind you here that the message I got from Freya was that she needed two days to process the session...what if she didn't mean her, but me?)

And I had a horrible realization.  What if the negative energy that Freya had inside her came from me?  What if it was the grief that I was feeling about losing my connection with Nimo?  It had never, ever occurred to me that my inability to let go of that grief could be causing Freya problems.  I had been so focused on making sure it didn't affect Donut, but I never took the same care with Freya.  In fact, I was doing lots of things with Freya that I used to do with Nimo, and I always felt so uncomfortable doing them.  

The in-hand work was the worst.  Freya would actually have panic attacks when I first started doing in-hand exercises with her.  She was able to do much better after I worked with the classical dressage trainer for a few months, but I still had to be careful about how close I stood or walked next to her or she would get incredibly anxious.

Even under saddle, our progress was fairly limited and never felt quite right.  Gemma seemed to do much better with her most of the time, and I always thought it was because Gemma was less intense about what she was asking.  But what if it was what Freya was sensing inside me?  What if it was the incongruity between the mask I was presenting and the grief I was feeling inside that was making her anxious?

Thankfully Felicity checked in with me about this time and offered an alternative to the darker place that my thoughts were going, which was that while Freya may have been absorbing some of my grief, she had some negative energy that also needed to be released and the session had helped us both.  (Sometimes I forget that everything isn't always all about me - ha, ha!)

Regardless of the specifics of where the negative energy had come from, the reality is that when I tried an in-hand session with her a few days after our session, it was completely different.  There was no anxiety from her.  I even leaned my body completely up against her and applied too much pressure at one point.  She was completely fine.  We weren't necessarily poetry in motion as we were both trying to figure each other out, but our work felt "normal."  Like a person and a horse first working with each other and trying to learn each other's language.  And I even mentally channeled the "mare collective" energy from the Intuitive Experience that Felicity hosted several days ago, and I got a beautiful trot transition that was smooth and not panicked, no whip or clucking required.  Just the mental image.

Over the course of the next few days, I tried a couple more in-hand sessions with Freya.  I even took her outside the round pen, to see what happened in a different location.  We went out to a small field behind the big arena.  She has worked out there before and is reasonably comfortable there but it is wide open instead of the safer confines of the round pen or even the arena.  (And mentally for me too, it feels bit more "risky.")  

And she was great.  She walked out there in-hand and we did a couple of laps around the field in each direction.  I didn't ask for any more collected or slower work from her; we were just walking and testing to make sure we had some steering. (There is this guidance about working with horses:  First, you go with the horse, then the horse goes with you, and then you go together.  My instructor and Jean Luc Cornille both give similar advice when starting in-hand work, which is to first go with the horse and then try changing the tone of your body and experimenting with the way you communicate to see when the horse starts listening to you.  Once the horse is listening, the work can begin.  So my plan was to go with Freya and only give her direction when we needed to make a turn because we didn't have any fences to provide boundaries.)  

As we walked, I got this vision in my head of a beautiful, slow, easy, balanced trot.  (Did that vision come from me or Freya?  Your guess is as good as mine!)  It is, of course, one of the initial goals of the Science of Motion in-hand work to achieve that trot before asking for more advanced movements.  Typically it takes awhile to achieve it, especially because I'm definitely not an expert in the technique.  And I certainly wouldn't attempt it so soon after starting in-hand work because of course Freya would need time to get used to me and the work.  But shortly after the vision came into my head, Freya did it.  I don't even know how to describe it, except to say that once you've felt it, you never want to feel anything else.  It is smooth and fluid and easy and balanced and yet somehow you also feel the essence and power of the horse coming through.  It is not controlled by the reins or generated from a whip, it is because the horse willingly gives it.

So I am on Cloud 9 because of that work.  It is an awesome addition to Freya's rehab process if we can do more of that.  And if feels so good to be working on overcoming something that was hard for both of us.

As I reflect on our Connection Reading, one of the most interesting things to me is that it wasn't focused on healing me, but somehow it did anyway.  Horses are often identified as our mirrors.  And I suspect Freya was doing a damn fine job of mirroring me, but I was too caught up in my own emotions to realize what she was doing.

I remember when I first saw her pictures in the auction listing.  I was drawn to them in a way that I could not explain and that was not like any other horse I looked at.  And I tried valiantly to evaluate other horses, but after looking at over 100 of them, I always came back to her.  Even though she was for Gemma, I couldn't shake the connection I felt to her.  Rational Me justified it by pointing out the training she had and how it was consistent with what I was looking for, but the reality is that several other horses at the auction could have been just as good, and I never seriously considered them.

I have always said that I have been so lucky to have such amazing horses during my life, as if that time of being lucky was over.  But I suspect it isn't.  I suspect that the universe has blessed me with two more special horses, and I feel so grateful to realize that before more years have gone by.

I don't know what is next for Freya and Donut and Gemma and me, but I'm so excited for it anyway.  The CEP course has been a game-changer in more ways than one for me.  Not only have I learned simple techniques to help my horses learn basic skills, but I have gained this amazing community of like-minded horsewomen.

Any of these women could serve as a role model for the younger generation of riders and owners, and I'm beyond thrilled that Gemma was welcomed into the class and had the opportunity to watch as the other students demonstrated what it means to be emotionally resilient.  In a world where it seems every issue is fodder for divisiveness and conflict and even the simplest of disagreements degenerates into hatred, it was a privilege to watch other women dealing with sometimes incredible adversity and overcoming it in a very healing way.

I also had the pleasure of interacting with one of the most beautiful souls I have ever encountered.  Felicity Davies is truly a joy to be around.  Her compassion and support is a big part of what makes CEP so special.  I also love how she understands what it is like to be confused and struggling to do the best thing for her horses when there is so much conflicting and poorly presented information available.  In my opinion, learning from a "master" horseman is overrated.  I have spent more time trying to decipher the language of masters than I care to remember.  The reality is that if you are learning something, you don't need someone who has an instinctual gift and who has been doing it for 50 years to teach you.  Instead, you need someone who knows the challenges you are facing, who can use language that you can understand, who can recognize the types of problems you are likely to have, and who can provide tangible ideas for solutions.  

And perhaps most importantly, you need someone who won't minimize how you feel.  After going through CEP, I have become more attuned to all the times that my feelings and thoughts and ideas are minimized by others.  It happens most often with professionals like trainers, vets, and farriers, but I think it can happen in any field and in any relationship.  Felicity never minimized what someone was feeling.  In fact, she encouraged her students to ask questions about why they were feeling a certain way and give value to that feeling.  She also gave us ways to respond to our feelings and even to anchor in to feeling good.

I don't think I can even list all the things that have happened because of CEP.  I can't remember all of them all at once!  But as a sample, here are "a few:"

1. I finally finished the equine nutrition course I signed up for about two years ago and never completed.  And not only did I finish the course, but I did the work to balance Freya's and Donut's diets.  The reason I finished the course is because during the first week of CEP, one of the things Felicity talks about is making sure your horse's diet is in order.  I totally knew that, but because it was an item on the checklist, I faithfully completed it.

2. I have an app on my phone to track all the things for all the horses.  I can keep track of when I do bodywork, when I make feed changes, when Gemma rides, horse shows, trimming feet, basically any activity that I do with horses.  Now I never have to wonder exactly when I last trimmed the horses' feet or when I last washed Donut's tail.  I can see it at a glance. 

3. I seriously love brushing Donut now.  What was once a chore is now an enjoyable experience for both of us.

4. Donut is now evolving into a better mental balance.  She still has baby moments, but her last airs above the ground were probably 6-8 weeks ago and even when she is in a more elevated mental state, she is much easier and safer to handle now.  I have a couple of tools to use to keep myself safe and that makes me able to handle her more confidently.

5. Donut's physical balance has improved.  Donut was a mess when I started CEP.  She couldn't stand in any sort of legitimate balance and her front feet were really toed out.  Like seriously not good.  I've watched as her toes have started to balance and her front legs no longer look like some kind of deformed duck.  That may have resolved on its own as she finished growing, but I suspect the postural work we've been doing has played a key role.

6.  I know that I can load Donut onto a trailer.  I still need to work with her a little more to get her self-loading and unloading and used to actually traveling, but I have the tools I need to do that, and I'm not worried about it anymore.

7. I know how to desensitize my horses to touch, approach, noise, and movement, both up-close and in the distance.  And I know how to do it on the ground and under saddle.

8. I am much more aware of how I hold a lead rope and how I use it.  I still have room for improvement, but that's OK, because I have the tools I need to improve.

9. I am much more aware of how my body language is viewed by horses.  Both Freya and Donut are incredibly sensitive to it now.  It wasn't that long ago that Donut was almost impossible to move out of my space.  In particular, when I would turn a horse out after her, she would crowd the gate.  Now, I can move her back with a sound and a little energy.

10. Donut holds her head down when I take off her halter when I turn her out.  She used to jerk her head up when I took the halter off, but now unhaltering is a gentle process that impressed my barn owner when she saw it.

11. Freya and I are exploring a new relationship, that is less clouded by emotional issues.

12. Gemma is learning the same skills I am, so she won't have to spend decades of her life searching for answers.  And with learning those skills comes an increase her safety.  The better she understands how to handle horses, the safer she will be.

13. I am recognizing that Woo-Woo Me is not a crackpot whose ideas should be viewed with skepticism.  I have good intuition and while I don't always understand what it is trying to tell me, my internal thoughts and feelings are valid, and it is OK for me to act on them, even if Rational Me isn't convinced.  In fact, I'm beginning to think these two parts of me need to communicate better and maybe even become one...

14. I can have a connection with Donut and Freya just like I did with Nimo.  I am seeing both of them through new eyes, and I love what I see.

But probably the most important thing I learned is that training a horse isn't so much about the horse as it is about me.  It is my knowledge and my confidence and my energy and my intuition that are the key factors.  Learning to trust myself and understanding that I can train my horses isn't something I can get from a book or a video or I would have gotten it already.  Instead it came from the coaching calls and the support from Felicity and the other students.  That support helped me though some challenges, but it also helped me link what I already knew with the new information I was learning in the class, so I could realize that I wasn't as clueless as I thought.  I just needed to make some connections and fill in some gaps.  And seeing other people going through similar experiences and having the same thoughts and questions and concerns was such a relief.  It felt so empowering to be a part of this group.

While I can't guarantee that anyone who goes through the CEP coaching program will have the same results I did, I will say that I have never seen another program like it (and I have signed up for a lot of training programs through the years).  I loved it so much that I'm looking forward to going through Felicity's Intuitive Equestrian Program.  This program will definitely make Woo-Woo Me happy, and I think it is about time that this part of me gets the same consideration that Rational Me gets.  I'm still thinking about congruence, and I suspect that having those two parts of me interact in a more balanced way is going to be a critical part of improving myself and my horsemanship skills.

In the meantime, I'm diving into reading The Tao of Equus by Linda Kohanov and practicing being congruent in my communication with other people and with my horses.  I'll let you know how it goes...:)

Freya was feeling playful on this day and she enjoyed running alongside Gemma

Donut is always happy to express herself:)

A Pivotal Moment, part 5

The online Cambridge dictionary defines the word congruent as: similar to or in agreement with something, so that the two things can both exist or can be combined without problems.  I've also seen it defined as: in agreement or harmony.  

A couple of weeks before the end of the Confident Equestrian Program, I came across this Facebook post by The Red Mare.  And I sort of felt like I was reading something really momentous, but I couldn't quite figure out how it was momentous.

The post sent me on a little bit of a dive into what congruent means, and I started thinking about ways in which I was probably incongruent.  And those ways went beyond simply expressing how I was feeling at any given moment.  I started thinking about how congruence (or a lack thereof) might be present in other parts of my life.  And the word just stayed with me day after day.  To the point that I got kind of irritated with it.  I mean, I get it, little voice in my head.  I need to work harder to make sure my outside matches my inside.  

But honestly, how am I supposed to do that really?  I can't just go around telling people I'm irritated or mad or sad or depressed or whatever.  What are they supposed to do with that?  And I just dedicated an entire post on my blog back in February to how I'm not going to use my horse as my therapist.  So, little voice in my head, I really need you to back off.  I get it.  I will try to be a more authentic person when I can, but that is not an easy ask.  I have literally dedicated over a decade of my life to learning how to be more diplomatic and have better communication skills.  And multiple people, well, coworkers, have told me how much easier it is to work with the kinder, gentler me.  So I'm not really interested in making people uncomfortable again.  It's less about wanting people to like me and more about being a better person.  Because better people don't just let out whatever is in their brain come out of their mouths, right?

You, of course, may remember how I mentioned earlier in this series of posts that I have a Rational Me and a Woo-Woo Me.  You might be tempted to mention them at this point and gently suggest that those two parts of me are not necessarily in sync.  But you would be rebuffed because I was too irritated with the little voice in my head nagging at me.

And you might also remember this post where I wrote about wanting to make sure the grief I felt about Nimo's loss didn't taint my future relationship with Donut in the same way that the loss of the horse I had before Nimo caused me to mourn so deeply that I took a long time to be open to connecting with Nimo.  I really thought that I had worked hard on managing my grief for Nimo, but then you may remember that I was sobbing uncontrollably not that long ago on the way to the barn.  So you might be forgiven for pointing out that I might not have quite accomplished what I so determinedly wrote that I had accomplished.

I, on the other hand, was steadfastly ignoring the issue of my situation with Nimo and intently focused on Freya's emotional issues.  I couldn't fix what was in the past with Nimo, but I was bound and determined to fix Freya.  And so I embarked on a Connection Reading with Felicity.

I really had no idea what to expect (even though I did read the description on the website).  I don't consider myself a particularly spiritual person, even though I do have a background in Christianity and I am fascinated by religion in all of its forms as well as the paranormal.  I've even had a few experiences during my life that I can't explain, and I am convinced that I have a guardian angel who spends a lot of time bemoaning my stupidity and wondering when she can get a new assignment.  (Now that I read that back to myself, it totally sounds like I'm a spiritual person, but I have never thought of myself that way.)

I think Felicity is probably the only person on the planet who could have convinced me to give this type of experience a try, though.  I felt very vulnerable going into it, and worried that I wouldn't respond in the "right" way.

But I needn't have worried.  Although I don't know that I can really do justice in describing the experience.  The best I can do is say that my experience was like a guided or facilitated spiritual connection with the goal of removing negative energy and creating healing. 

We worked through a couple of different modalities and by the end of the session, I felt really energized and excited about the work that we'd done.  Woo-Woo Me was in heaven and her brain was reeling with the possibilities.  But the real question was, how would Freya feel?  Could work that we'd done via Zoom with a lady in another country really have an impact on a horse that wasn't even physically present for the session?

 

A Pivotal Moment, part 4

There is no question that I am a huge procrastinator.  (I am currently procrastinating about doing laundry by writing this blog post - haha!)  I do some of my best, most inspired work when I am closing in on a deadline.  But working with horses at that level of intensity is not a great idea.  So I really do try not to inflict my tendencies on them.

But the trailer loading situation with Donut was getting ridiculous.  One of the reasons I'd joined the Confident Equestrian Program was to get some help on trailer loading.  Nimo had always loaded.  Even when I bought him as a yearling, he loaded in my friend's trailer within a minute or two because he was so naturally curious about what was inside the trailer, he couldn't help himself but go in.  And the two horses I'd had previous to Nimo were also great loaders.  So I never had to really learn much about trailer loading, except that a lot of people have horses that don't load well, and anytime I had to haul one of those horses, it was a time-consuming and frustrating experience for everyone.

I didn't want Donut to have bad experiences with the trailer, but after watching several trailer loading tutorials from internationally-recognized trainers, I was still feeling stuck about how to approach it with her.  So I never worked on it.

Even in the CEP class, I skipped watching the trailer loading video for a couple of weeks because I really didn't want to deal with it.  But finally, I nagged myself enough that I watched the video.  And of course, because the whole class is laid out in a very logical way, the trailer loading steps fit right in with what we'd already been working on.  There were also a lot of tips for horses that really struggled with loading to help break down the process more for them.  Everything made complete sense to me and didn't seem intimidating at all.

So one day, I hooked up the trailer and pulled it to the barn so I could work on loading with Donut.  I set my expectations pretty low because I wasn't sure how she would view the trailer.  Her last experience with it had been almost three years ago when I'd brought her from my friend's house.  So that was the day she lost her friends and had a stressful ride and then had to adapt to a new place.  I figured there would be some baggage associated with all that, so my goal for the first day was to get her comfortable just hanging around the trailer.  And she really had trouble picking up her feet to get in my step-up trailer, so I was worried about that too.

As it turned out, Donut did not have all the baggage that I thought she did.  She also acted a lot like Nimo - she was curious about the trailer and the fun-looking objects inside.  So it was probably less than 5 minutes before she had both front feet on the trailer.  I ended up doing a little bit of positive reinforcement too.  I had never felt comfortable using R+ in my horse training, but because of the work I'd already done for CEP, I knew how to use it more effectively.  I think it really helped keep the experience positive for Donut because she does LOVE food!  I did three repetitions of asking Donut to load her front feet and back off and then called it good for the day.  Because I've got a step-up trailer, it is doubly important that Donut feels comfortable backing off the trailer, and I wanted to make sure she was learning that part of the process.  The best thing about how Donut did was that there was a pallet of bricks with plastic blowing in the wind behind her, and as luck would have it, the gravel driveway was being dragged while Donut was getting on the trailer.  I thought for sure she would be spooky, but she wasn't.  The desensitization work we'd been doing was making a difference!

Donut must touch all the things with her nose:)

Donut enjoys a snack after getting two feet on the trailer

The next day I brought the trailer to the barn for another session.  This time, Donut basically loaded herself.  We did a couple of repetitions of getting her front feet on and backing off and then she bravely got all the way on the trailer because she really was desperate to check out what was in the trailer.  I had a feed pan of alfalfa and carrots for her when she got on and she was quite happy to explore a bit and then eat for a few minutes.  And then I backed her off with no trouble.  The whole process was probably less than 10 minutes.

It was hard to get Donut's whole body in the picture, but I wanted proof that all four feet were on the trailer!:)

We also worked on trailer loading with Freya.  The me from a few years ago would have been happy with the way Freya loaded.  She typically hops right on the trailer.  But she seemed to also have some mild anxiety.  I've played around with different variables for hauling her over the past year or so and I've discovered that while having a buddy does help a little, her anxiety seems to come most from getting on the trailer to go somewhere.  When she gets on to go home, the anxiety seems to be significantly reduced.  So I decided that we would have her do the same things Donut does to see if revisiting the basics in a low-key way with no pressure to go anywhere for a show or any activity would help her feel better.  

I also wanted to see if I could slow her down when she loads.  Much like other tasks, when you ask her to get on the trailer, she immediately complies and does it quickly.  There have been times when I've needed to pause loading or unloading because of something going on and having a horse that can stop mid-process is super helpful and increases the safety of an activity that really does have the potential to go horribly wrong.

Plus, Gemma needs to learn how to handle Freya on the trailer and keep herself safe.  I trusted Freya to remember there was a person on the other end of the lead rope and not do anything too crazy, although the mom in me struggles sometimes when Gemma does horse things because I know all too well how quickly things can get dangerous.  But the best way for Gemma to stay safe is for her to get the experience doing things correctly.  So I turned Gemma and Freya loose on trailer loading.

The first sessions were just to get Gemma and Freya working together and to see if Freya could pause before she steps on the trailer.  After the second session, she was able to do that, and her anxiety level felt a bit lower as she stood on the trailer, but we definitely had more work to do.  (I'll write more about how that is going in a later post.)

We also worked on reminding Donut about the wash stall.  You may remember that water (or even a damp rag) has been difficult for Donut to handle.  I have worked with her enough that she was able to get hosed off in the outdoor wash stall and have parts of her hosed off in the indoor wash stall.  But I can tell that she still isn't super comfortable with the process, so we basically started from scratch again.  I stood at Donut's head and asked Gemma to handle the hose or sponge using the approach and retreat technique.  After several sessions, Gemma could rinse, wash, and rinse the bottom of Donut's tail and we could hose off her legs as long as we didn't take too long:)  Bathing is definitely going to be a longer-term commitment to get right.

Gemma wanted to do the same work with Freya, so we used the same process to reintroduce Freya to the outdoor wash stall.  She was much more comfortable with it, but Gemma is known for her marathon bath sessions, and I could tell Freya was possibly losing patience with all the bathing.  And it finally occurred to me that I could hang a hay bag in the wash stall area for her to munch on.  The impact was HUGE!  Freya was so much happier and Gemma could take her time.  I just helped shape out where we wanted Freya to stand, so she didn't learn to wander around.  I also really liked that Freya could be tied to one pole instead of cross-tied.  After seeing a post on Facebook about what it means to have slack in a lead rope, I realized that when we cross-tie, there is always pressure on both sides of the halter.  There is no way for the horse to get true relief.  Whereas with a single rope, it can be tied so that the horse can get complete slack.

I love seeing Freya content!

In terms of my mental state, I had an experience with an equine professional that really upset me.  I'm going to leave the details out because the details are less important than my response.  Even in hindsight, I think I was justifiably upset.  However, the big problem was that I was so upset that I literally could hardly sleep the night after it happened.  I was exhausted and I was bursting into tears constantly, and I couldn't seem to move past the overwhelming feelings that the situation brought out in me.  When I posted about it in the group message area, Felicity reached out and gave me an option to try to see if it helped me feel better.  Basically she let me vent via voice notes without worrying about what words I was using.  I didn't need to be understanding of the other person's point of view.  I didn't need to be diplomatic or nice.  I could just let out all the stuff that was bothering me.

Initially, I was skeptical that it would really help.  I'd already been in my head so much about it, and I had even talked to/messaged a couple of friends about it.  But the voice notes really did work.  Felicity took the time to respond and validate how I was feeling and almost immediately I started to feel better.  Within a few days, I could talk about what happened with no problem and now that I'm a few weeks out, the whole thing seems like no big deal.  The best thing about the situation is that I now feel like I have a new coping strategy in case something similar happens in the future.

Another big thing that happened this month is that I got myself a new set of brushes.  (I will probably do some kind of product review post on them because I love them so much!)  These brushes literally changed the way I think about brushing my horse.  I used to view it as a necessary chore, but I didn't typically enjoy it or, as it turns out, even know how to do it very well.  But I came to love grooming Donut and she loved it too.  One day, she had eaten her fill and actually stopped eating for awhile (this horse is literally always eating or sleeping or into something).  I took the opportunity to hang out with her in her stall and really get into the grooming.  And then I got the idea to use the Bladder Meridian Technique with her.  She's never let me do it in the past, but this time she did.  I was able to go through both sides of her body and she was so good.  She stayed with me and actually stayed quiet and still for at least half an hour after I finished.  I have never seen her do that.  The barn was busy with activity - horses were going in and out.  People were walking around.  And for the first time, she didn't need to try to be in the middle of it and constantly looking to see what was happening.  She looked like she was processing and actually feeling her body.  

It was so good to see her this way.  It isn't that I want her to constantly check out or keep to herself, but I think it is important for her to be comfortable in her own body without always needing input from other horses or people to stay stable.  I know a lot of people who aren't comfortable in their own skin.  They struggle anytime they are alone and they have trouble functioning outside of a group.  And while I do understand that humans and horses are meant to be social, I also think that we and they need to be able to function comfortably alone too.  Even in the wild, horses are by themselves and even choose it.  (Recently one of the mares at the Theodore Roosevelt National Park went missing from the herd.  Park volunteers feared the worst when they couldn't find her, but after several days, she was located safe and sound with a healthy baby.)

I'm probably veering off into Kerry Thomas' Herd Dynamics territory, which is worthy of a separate post, but the reality is that horses in a human world need to have certain skills in order to function well and be mentally stable.  I don't want Donut and Freya to be anxious if they can't always be in their herd.  Their lives require them to be in stalls for a few hours most days.  They need to be able to go to an arena by themselves and perform some tasks.  They don't need to be Olympic athletes or ride 100 miles in the wilderness alone, but they need to be able to feel comfortable with themselves (or with one other human) for short periods of time.

I'm probably not articulating this very well, because it's still something I am learning and thinking about.  But it's important to me that my horses can be balanced mentally, which means being able to handle alone time without being stressed.  Because Donut has struggled with her alone time in the past, I was thrilled to see her able to change gears for a little while.

And going through that process with her set me on a path of achieving greater mental balance for myself.  I didn't quite understand what was happening at the time, but hindsight is giving me some insights.  One of the biggest things I miss about being with Nimo is the quietness of his mind and his ability to let me in, so to speak.  I could usually tell what he was thinking (or at least I thought I did).  And while he did have the occasional moment of extreme alertness or even worry about something, by the time his life was nearing its end, he spent a lot of time in a very quiet state.  Not shut down, but aware and listening and present.  And I think that is why I found being with him so easy.  In a world where people don't tell the truth and everyone is overwhelmed and stressed and busy and I was overwhelmed and stressed and busy, I could find refuge from all the noise with him.  And when I rode him, he insisted on absolute mental focus from me and had spent years training me to be present when I rode.

But that level of connection and focus is not something I have with either Donut or Freya (although the nerve release work with Freya is in the ballpark).  And I have been grieving Nimo's loss not only because he isn't here anymore, but because I lost that connection, and I didn't think that I would ever have it again.  I thought it was unique to Nimo and me.  But as I worked my way through the exercises in CEP, I got an inkling that maybe I could have that connection again.

As the third anniversary of Nimo's death approached, I was a mess.  I felt this extreme grief leaking out of me all the time.  I couldn't control it, and sometimes it felt just as fresh as the day he died.  I was irritated with everyone and downright pissed off about a few horse-related things.  And it occurred to me one day as I drove to the barn sobbing almost uncontrollably that I might need professional help to overcome the grief.  I spent some time trying to figure out what kind of professional I might need, but I didn't really reach any conclusions.  Plus the idea of being that vulnerable with someone I didn't know seemed like too much.

Meanwhile I had become convinced that Freya might also be having some emotional issues.  As I reflected back on our time with her, I began to wonder if her physical issues could be rooted in an emotional issue.  She struggled with anxiety in certain situations and while she was functional, it didn't feel right to me.  After bringing it up in the CEP group, Felicity mentioned that a Connection Reading might be one way to explore my concerns.  

I had heard about the Connection Readings before - a few other CEP students had done them and reported positive changes afterward.  But even though I was curious, I had been hesitant to ask about doing one for me.  And do you know why?  Because I was terrified that the only thing that would happen is that I would cry through the whole thing.  I was struggling with managing my emotions so much with respect to Nimo's death that I figured any attempt at something more spiritual in nature would send me over an emotional ledge that I couldn't return from.  And I just couldn't bear it.

But when the emotions on the line were Freya's, I could find the strength to do it.  So I booked a reading for the day after our last CEP coaching call.  And I could never have predicted what happened...

A Pivotal Moment, part 3

The second month of CEP really blew the door off the hinges for me in terms of desensitizing.  (Felicity also calls it exposure training, which may be more accurate.)  My brain went into overdrive as I started to understand how the "approach and retreat" method works for helping horses to feel comfortable with lots of different things touching them, waving around them, making noise at them, and even being off in the distance.  The sky is the limit in terms of the types of things you can use to work with your horse.

I also discovered that Freya had probably gone through similar training at some point, because she basically just knew how to do it.  And Gemma was in absolute heaven because she was able to be successful with Freya almost immediately.  You can watch a short video of the two of them below:

Plus, I had a couple of major breakthroughs with both Donut and Freya.  I wrote in my last post about Donut finally learning to stand still.  Well, we took that to the next level when I was able to have her stand in Pillar 1 from The Balance Through Movement Method for probably about 20 minutes.  Near the end of the session, I was able to do one of the nerve release techniques that I had learned for Freya and Donut was able to stay with me, even though I could tell that she was feeling a little uncomfortable.  (The technique doesn't involve any force, but I think it creates strange sensations in a horse's body, which is where the discomfort comes from.)  This was a huge moment for both of us, because Donut had never let me do any bodywork on her before.  Every time I tried, even with a simple technique like the Bladder Meridian Technique from the Masterson Method, she would fidget and disengage.  Initially I thought it was because she was young and impatient, but as time went on, I started to get concerned that it meant something Not Good was going on in her body.  So it was this incredible relief for me to be able to start connecting with her and being able to feel her tension and help her through it.

This is a photo from our session.  In addition to being in a state of disbelief that this is my former busy body of a horse, I noticed how awkwardly Donut was standing.  One of the reasons I started BTMM was because I had some concerns about how awkward Donut looked.  I'll probably write more about it later, but being able to stand still and accept bodywork was an important step for her.

 

For Freya, I had been working pretty diligently on the nerve release techniques that I was learning through 1:1 sessions with one of the BTMM instructors.  But we were getting hung up on activating her pectoral muscles.  And then one day, the gentlest touch worked, and I could see them "firing."  It was really cool to watch and I couldn't contain my joy and relief.  I had been putting my heart and soul into rehab work with Freya, but I had gotten to the point where I just wasn't sure we were going to get very far.  And the moment I saw those pectoral muscles engage, it felt like this huge weight was lifted off of me.  Maybe we could do this.  Maybe Freya wasn't going to be broken forever.  It's hard to say how much of this success was associated with the nerve release techniques and how much was associated with the CEP course, because the CEP course does have a postural component to it that is based on BTMM.  So Gemma and I had been working with Freya on her posture as part of the basic skills we were learning through CEP as well as the BTMM nerve release techniques.  Coming at the problem from two angles may have helped us more than if we had just been doing the nerve release work.

Another thing that we accomplished with Freya was working with the large body clippers.  I didn't expect her to have trouble with them because she is great with the smaller clippers.  But when I decided to put a trace clip on her, I realized she was not comfortable at all with the noisier body clippers.  Luckily, I knew how to help her with that thanks to the CEP work, and it took about 5 minutes before I was clipping her shoulder.  

I also had a little epiphany about using food.  Back when I was doing endurance riding with Nimo, I spent pretty much all of our "down time" feeding him.  If I was grooming him, he was eating.  If I was body clipping, he was eating.  If I was trimming his feet, he was eating.  If he was standing at the trailer, he was eating.  I had learned how important it was for horses to have access to food as much as possible, but also keeping weight on him when he was in serious conditioning work was a challenge.  So I was in the habit of making sure he always had some kind of higher-value hay when we were doing standing still-type activities.  It had the added benefit of helping him be pretty patient for things that took awhile.

When I was body clipping Freya, I realized I had been expecting her to just stand still.  And she did.  But body clipping takes time and it occurred to me that maybe I should do the same thing with her that I did with Nimo.  So I set out some of the chopped, bagged hay that I reserve for when the horses come in for dinner, and she happily chowed down on that while I clipped.  I tend not to do marathon clipping sessions, preferring to spread the clipping over several days, but there was no reason Freya couldn't eat while I clipped.

I see a lot of people withhold food from their horses as a way of establishing power over them.  Even if it is dinner time at the barn, I will see owners deliberately not feed their horses because they are going to ride them.  So the horse has to watch other horses being fed and then gets fidgety and then is punished for fidgeting.  It is repulsive behavior.  Either get to the barn early enough so you can leave the barn before the feed is put out or wait until your horse gets to eat, even if it is just a portion of the food.  I will also see horses standing for 30 minutes or even an hour or more for mane pulling or body clipping or bathing with no food.  And while it isn't essential, why can't the horse have a hay net?  I mean, when I go to get my hair done or have a pedicure, I get a coffee to drink.  It's part of the ritual.  I don't need the coffee, but it's nice.  And why the hell can't we do nice things for our horses when they do things for us?

Meanwhile, I was struggling a bit with my mental state.  Gemma did a little schooling jumper show with Butters during that time period.  It was the first show she'd done in several months, and it was really hard for me to be there.  It was hard for Gemma too.  The thing about improving my horsemanship skills and really starting to tune into my horses as part of CEP and BTMM work was that I could see even more clearly how much other people do not tune in to their horses.  I could see the extreme anxiety that horses had and how they were still asked to perform.  I could see how many competitors are still in the Dark Ages when it comes to how they interact with their horses.  I even heard one trainer tell a little girl how proud she was of her for showing her pony "who is boss" after a tough round where the pony refused a lot of jumps.  A little girl, you guys.  Little kids should never hear those words.  No one should.  But the fact that kids are still being taught that kicking and hitting and pulling on horses shows them who is boss is enough to make me want to walk away from the entire human race.  The only thing that saved me from starting to lash out at people was the ability to talk about this feeling during the weekly CEP coaching call.  It helped to hear that other people felt the same way about horse showing as I did.  That the same things that bothered me bothered other people.

I don't know what the solution is for the complete mess that the horse world is in.  Well, actually I do know the solution.  Everyone needs to be better educated on how to handle horses and they need to stop thinking of them as machines that perform at their pleasure.  But how to implement that?  I don't know.  There is more information than ever about options that people have to not act like complete asshats around their horses, and yet the bad behavior seems more widespread than ever.  All I can do right now is to keep working on myself.  Which is what I did in the third month of the CEP course...

A Pivotal Moment, part 2

I am somehow two people in one.  One of these people works very hard to be rational and evidence-based.  The other person is woo-woo as all hell.  Most of the time, Rational Me is in full force.  I like Rational Me.  She makes logical decisions based on facts and behaves like a responsible adult.  Woo-Woo Me is generally a pain-in-the-ass and makes ridiculous decisions based on weird whiffs of feelings and spends a lot of time being unhappy in what Rational Me considers the Real World.

When I first started the Confident Equestrian Program, Woo-Woo Me woke up for a minute.  There were some questions on the intake form for the class that were asking about things I had never heard of, and I got kind of curious about.  But Rational Me intervened and reminded me that I was in the class to learn basic skills to help Donut be ready for under-saddle work.  There was to be no woo-woo nonsense.

And Rational Me did a great job of paying attention, watching the videos, and doing the homework.  Rational Me was highly motivated and committed. But Woo-Woo Me was paying attention too.  She was just hanging around in the background, biding her time...

I spent the first month of the coaching class doing the groundwork exercises in the videos with both Freya and Donut.  Gemma did them too and for the most part, the horses did the exercises well.  I discovered Donut and I weren't as clueless as I originally thought, and lots of little pieces of information that I had read or seen over the years started coming together with Felicity's explanations.  

The techniques and exercises I was learning in the class were so blessedly simple and so accessible that my poor overworked brain finally felt like it could process the information.  There was no ethereal language to decipher or great philosophies to understand in order to apply the techniques.  There were just simple, step by step instructions, along with troubleshooting guidance.

As I worked through the exercises, though, one of the biggest realizations that I had was that it just might be OK to be me when I am working with my horses.  I have spent so many years - actually decades at this point - trying to emulate other trainers or people that I respect in the horse world.  But none of those people are me.  Each of them works with horses in their own way that feels best to them.  But what feels best to them doesn't always feel best to me.  

One of my biggest discomforts when I watch people work with horses is that I feel like they get bigger or more abrupt than I feel comfortable being.  When I behave like that with horses, it feels unnatural to me.  Which is not to say that I think it is wrong.  I've seen countless horses, including my own, look completely comfortable with these techniques.  And I firmly believe that a horse would rather a human be a bit bigger than they need to be, as long as the human is consistent and clear.  After all, horses can get pretty big with each other to communicate.  But they also communicate in such nuanced ways that they appear to be telepathic.

The reality is that I am not interested in the bigger communication techniques, except in cases where it might be necessary to establish a clear boundary or the horse is really not getting something and it is important for health or safety reasons that they do get it quickly.  After studying the Science of Motion techniques for many years under saddle, it is clear to me that horses can understand humans a lot better than we think they can.  They do not need someone windshield-wipering a leg at their side to understand they need to pick up the canter.  They can do it with a thought.  So if they are that sensitive under saddle, why couldn't they be that sensitive on the ground?

After going through the videos for several weeks, it occurred to me that there might be hope that I could work with my own horses in ways that felt comfortable to me, even if they didn't seem appropriate to someone else.  And I started developing a comfort level with how to shape behavior and responses from my horses.  I wasn't feeling like an expert yet, but I could see a clearer link between what I was doing and how the horse was responding.

I was also enjoying the group coaching calls that we did once a week.  There were about 5-6 students regularly in the calls, along with Felicity, and we would each get the opportunity to talk about our struggles and our wins during the previous week.  I had posted earlier this year about how I felt I was on a path all by myself, but I was starting to discover that there are others out there who feel the same way I do, who have the same questions, the same struggles, and the same joy about seemingly small wins.  And it started to make me realize how much value being in a community can add to my life. 

So Rational Me was basically in heaven.  We were doing tangible things like learning how to feed treats properly for positive reinforcement, leading, stopping, backing up, and turning.

Donut learns to take treats politely

Freya already took treats well, but the work we did actually ended up helping her be better in her stall when other horses were around.  She started out being quite frustrated about accepting treats when other horses were nearby, but after several weeks, she became much calmer.

 

But Woo-Woo Me was tuning in every once in awhile.  I had a couple of things happen with the horses that I forgot I was looking for in my attempts to Accomplish All the Things.  One happened on a Friday evening when I was at the barn by myself.  Gemma comes with me every day except for Fridays because I flat out need time to myself.  I work from home and homeschool and do horse things with Gemma every day, which is a lot of time spent with her.  And while I love her dearly, I do need time on my own to refresh.  So Fridays after work are mine.  This particular Friday, I hung out with Freya in her stall for a bit.  Instead of the fairly intensive nerve release work that I'd been doing almost daily for the previous two weeks, I brushed her and petted her.  She ended up in a deeply relaxed mental state, and I felt pretty darn good too.  It was a critical reminder that I don't have horses because I want to ride them or compete with them; I have them because I love their very nature.  I love being with them.  And I particularly love being with a horse that has a quiet, balanced mind.

Which brings me to the second thing.  After about four weeks of working diligently on Standing Still, and having some minor progress, Donut finally Stood Still.  Here is what I wrote about the session for the class:

After a bit of a rough start to our session because Donut got worried about something, we had an amazing Standing Still time!  For several minutes, Donut stood still and I was even able to stand 6 feet away from her.  She didn't try to mouth me or chew on the lead rope and she must have yawned 6-7 times!  I have NEVER seen her yawn before!  She was standing kind of awkwardly and not always with her head down, but she was truly quiet and starting to process a little.  Yay!

Donut stands still!!!

 

Donut has always had very busy mind and body.  She is constantly chewing on things, bumping things with her nose, and moving around, and I can literally feel the activity coming from her brain.  And it stresses me out.  To the point that I didn't really enjoy being around her that much, in all honesty.  I mean, I love her dearly, but all that busyness was hard for me to tolerate for more than a few minutes at a time.  So when we had these few minutes where it was clear that she could actually quiet her mind, it was a game changer for me.  For the first time, it occurred to me that I didn't have another 25+ years of all that activity to try to manage or tolerate.  It wasn't that Donut was just a busy horse by nature, it was that she didn't know how to be quiet.  It's possible that many horses learn that quietness by being in a herd and for some reason Donut hadn't.  Or maybe the way I was handling her was encouraging her mind to be active instead of quiet.  But I had no idea that it was something that could be taught.  Learning that was such a huge light bulb moment for me.  And I also started to ask myself some vague questions about what a horse should feel like.

Woo-Woo Me started whispering that maybe the connection that I had with Nimo wasn't as unique as I thought it was.  Maybe it was attainable with Donut and Freya too.  I just had to approach it differently than I had with Nimo.  Thankfully, I still had two more months of the class to go, because I was beginning to understand that this class wasn't going to be just about teaching horses basic skills...

A Pivotal Moment, part 1

I think we all have them at some points in our lives.  That moment where a romantic partner or friend or family member says or does something that can't be unsaid or undone and we know that the relationship will not be the same going forward.  Or that decision we make that can't be unmade that changes the course of our life.

Sometimes these moments are obvious, like a heated argument or signing a contract to buy a house or realizing that the pregnancy test is positive.  We know in the moment that things will be different moving forward.  But sometimes they are only apparent in hindsight.

As my mind skips through the memories of my life, I can see and feel those pivotal moments almost as clearly as when they happened.  They stick with me and occasionally pop into my mind to remind me of why I am where I am.

But last November I had no idea that I was making a choice that would forever change the way I viewed myself and my relationship with horses.  I was coming out of a 3-ish month long set of lessons with a classical dressage trainer.  I'd really enjoyed working with her via Zoom almost every week.  I'd signed up for the lessons with her because I was in the process of troubleshooting why Freya kept struggling with contact.  (I think I last really wrote about my progress in this post: https://astudentofthehorse.blogspot.com/2022/08/down-rabbit-hole.html)  I was also exploring The Balance Through Movement Method, which was still in its infancy in terms of sharing the techniques with the public.

But the reality was that despite months of work where I felt like I had made some progress with Freya, I was still fundamentally unhappy with something that I couldn't quite put my finger on.  It still felt like we were doing a lot of forward and backward in our work.  And by the beginning of December, she was really not right physically again and she had a bit of a mental breakdown over what appeared to be nothing.  I'm not saying it actually was nothing, just that I couldn't see it.  And if I couldn't see what was causing Freya's concern, I couldn't try to fix it.

The other issue was Donut.  I had done next to nothing with her after the summer.  I think the 1:1 BTMM I did in August was the last significant thing I'd done with her.  And while the 1:1 gave me some information to think about, it also didn't get me where I thought I wanted to go.

And I was not really in a good place mentally.  I was physically and mentally exhausted from the horse show season with Gemma and from my desperate attempts to help Freya feel better.  I was miserable because I hadn't progressed with Donut, and I had this idea that I was supposed to be starting her under saddle at some point in the near future and neither of us were anywhere near ready.  I was missing Nimo more than ever, and I had come to the conclusion that I didn't know crap about horses, that I had no idea what I was doing, that none of the professionals I was working with could help me, and that I had no business owning horses or trying to train or rehab them.  But I had these two horses that were my responsibility and a daughter who was horse crazy and would never forgive me if I told her I was selling either horse.  So somehow I needed to find a way to keep going.

I remember feeling something similar with Nimo at one point.  There was a time when he was about 8 when I thought I was going to have to sell him.  The weekly lessons I was doing with a dressage instructor were brutal.  We weren't advancing even after years and years of work.  Nimo was unsafe to ride outside the arena, and I felt like I couldn't ride at all.  I hated going to the barn and I didn't want to ride or even think that I could ride unless I had constant direction from my instructor.  I couldn't see my way forward.  And it almost destroyed me because horses were my life.  Always.  What was I supposed to do if I didn't have a horse?

And then there was this moment in a lesson I was having where my instructor was telling me I needed to do another damn circle.  And I didn't want to do another damn circle.  We'd been doing endless circles and useless walk-trot transitions that never got any better.  And we couldn't even canter.  And I felt this overwhelming rage toward my instructor.  I remember turning Nimo toward him and raising my dressage whip as if I was going to attack him.  I stopped myself before I did anything, but it was an eye-opening moment for me, and I realized I had to make a change.

I subsequently fired my instructor (that is seriously one of the most empowering things I have ever done), moved to a new barn, and started taking responsibility for my own riding.  I got Jane Savoie's Happy Horse program and a little later started working with another instructor.  I didn't work with her that long before realizing she wasn't going to work out, and I moved Nimo to a new barn again and finally found the instructor that I still have today.

Nothing quite as dramatic happened last November.  I was just doing my usual constant search for classes I could take to gain insight into what was going on in Freya's body, but also longing for a class that could help me with Donut.  I felt like there were gaps in her training and the way we communicated and despite trying several methods, nothing felt right.

I first signed up for a body work class and started trying those techniques with Freya.  It wasn't an inexpensive class, and I resigned myself to doing more bodywork with Freya and continuing to let Donut sit.

Then I came across this lady name Felicity Davies and her Confident Equestrian Program.  I really liked what I was seeing, and she offered an online version plus a 12-week coaching program.  At the time, the coaching program wasn't scheduled until February, and I was being my typical self and in a hurry to Get Started.  Plus, I'd just spent a bunch of money on the bodywork class for Freya and Christmas was coming up, so financially it made sense to save money and do the online-only class.  And why would I need someone to coach me, anyway?  I had sort of had enough of people telling me what to do and then minimizing my feelings when I felt something wasn't going the way I wanted it to.

So I signed up and watched the first couple of videos.  And then the stress of the holidays kicked in and my motivation died.

By January, I was thinking there was a good possibility that CEP was going to be another expensive class laying in the trash bin with all the other expensive classes I had purchased over the years and never finished.  Then as January was drawing to a close, I saw a post from Felicity that said there was still room in her coaching class for CEP.  And a little voice in my head told me that maybe I should do that.  Maybe I did need a coach after all.  Just someone to help keep me accountable so I would actually finish the class.  So I sent an email asking if I could upgrade from the online class to the coaching class.  And Felicity was so nice when she said I could.  I immediately felt welcomed and like I was on the right path.  In fact, I felt so relieved that I actually started watching the online videos in advance of the coaching class getting started.

And that started my journey down a path I could never have anticipated...

The reason I keep trying...

My Horse Is Not My Therapist

I think we've all seen the t-shirts that say, "My horse is my therapist."  I know people who wear them.  And there was a time in my life when I would have worn a t-shirt like that too.

I have absolutely used my horses as my therapists over the years.  The most significant example I can think of was when I used Nimo to help me overcome post-partum depression.  You see, I didn't tell anyone at the time that I was not feeling right.  I kept everything to myself, although my husband knew something was wrong.  He just didn't know what.  Instead of talking to a person, or seeking medical help, I turned to my horse.  Looking back, I'm not sure I was capable of anything else.  I would have done exactly what I did again, but that doesn't stop me from wishing that it could have been different.

I will say that it worked.  I pushed myself to the point of mental and physical exhaustion over and over and over as I learned the ropes of endurance riding and conditioned my completely unsuitable horse to tackle the tough trails we have here in Virginia.  I nearly died more than once because of poor decision-making and also just because sometimes riding horses is dangerous.

But all of that changed my brain and allowed me to find my way through the sadness and anger and grief.  And because Nimo was who he was, it worked.  He hung in there with me and learned to function better.  While I don't necessarily condone pushing horses too far outside of their comfort zones, the reality is that before I started really focusing on endurance riding, Nimo didn't move that well in the arena and he was spooky and dangerous to ride outside of the arena.  After several years of training for endurance, he moved better and he was so safe to ride, I felt comfortable riding by myself on rugged trails with no cell phone service.  And we were able to pay forward at least a few of the times we had babysitters on the trail by being the sane, quiet ones for other green horses.

So in the end, it all worked out OK.  I was mentally healthier and so was Nimo.  But it could easily have gone horribly wrong.  There were times when I thought it would.  Although, I don't think we should discount the process of returning to mental health.  I am not an expert at all, but I have discovered that sometimes I have to go through hell and come out the other side in order to make progress.  Most of my biggest learning moments have come shortly after I felt so frustrated and angry that I wanted to quit.  So there is value in the struggle.  But sometimes the struggle can be so great that people don't come out the other side.

The reality is, though, that Nimo shouldn't have had to help me as much as he did.  He shouldn't have been the sole reason I clung to life.  To put that burden on a horse is, well, I don't have a word for what it is.  I guess the closest I can come is unethical.

Yet we do put that burden on horses all the time.  Not only do we use our riding and other horse activities as ways to diffuse our own stress, but we actually employ horses for professional therapy.

I should say that I used to be a very avid supporter of equine-assisted therapy.  It wasn't until a friend donated her horse to a program that I started to have reservations.  I watched a very vibrant, balanced, good horse slowly eroded physically until she was chronically lame (repeated veterinary exams never identified the problem), was eventually diagnosed with an unspecified neurological problem, and then fell through a pasture fence and over an embankment.  The fall broke her pelvis and she was euthanized 45 minutes later.  This whole process happened over the course of about 18 months.

I had known this horse for probably close to 15 years.  I had ridden her regularly when Nimo was too young to ride and sporadically after that.  I helped take care of her when my friend was traveling or needed help.  My daughter rode her.  She was part of my extended family, and her death shocked me to my core.  It made me wonder if her life might have gone differently if she'd never been used as a therapy horse.

Then, back in the spring of 2021, I attended a Masterson Method clinic.  I posted about my initial thoughts in this post.  The clinic was for using the Masterson Method on therapy horses and it was held at a therapy barn.  I didn't realize the focus of the clinic going into it, and I found myself not feeling very good about it afterwards.  That experience added to my level of discomfort about using horses for therapy.

Since then, I keep reading about how horses have a significant level of mirror neurons.  This is a quick read to give you an introduction to mirror neurons if you haven't been bombarded with it already: https://www.equineconnectioncounseling.com/blog/brains-relationships-and-horses.  In particular, the author writes, "All those mirror neurons enable horses to empathize even more than people do. In counseling, the horse can pick up on emotions that human clients and human counselors might not be aware of yet. It also means that humans and horses can engage in social relationships on a neurological level; although facial expressions and language might be different, the horse’s and human’s brains can respond to each other and build a relationship."

So this is some pretty significant stuff.  The idea that two different species can communicate on a neurological level is mind-blowing (pun intended - haha!).  And it helps explain at least some of what I've been doing in my Science of Motion work.  The work taps into the neurological connection that people and horses can have, which allows the horse and rider to move beyond obedience to aids and into a world of true back-and-forth communication which is occurring for the primary purpose of helping the horse carry a rider in a way that ensures the horse's soundness.  I think this level of communication is also what The Balance Through Movement Method explores.  (And I'm sure there are other methodologies that consider the benefit of mirror neurons too - I just don't have experience with them.)

BUT, if horses are so able to empathize with humans and pick up on emotions that the humans aren't even aware they have, what does that mean if horses are working with humans who may not have their best interests at heart or humans who are trauma victims or humans who can't communicate very well because of neurological deficits?  And the horses have to absorb it all.  They are like Deanna Troi in Star Trek: TNG.  She has the ability to feel thoughts and emotions and sometimes that ability almost overwhelms her at times.  Over time, she learns to set boundaries and manage what she feels, so she doesn't spend every waking minute feeling everything that everyone else feels.

Unlike a TV character, though, horses are part of the real world, where everything doesn't always work out in the end.  What about the therapy horses?  Or even just the average horse?  What happens to them over time as they feel the constant bombardment of human emotions with no one to help them manage what they are feeling?

I think from an ethical perspective, we have to start having this conversation about what we ask horses to be exposed to and take in on a regular basis.  We all know from working with horses that they can sense our emotions and some of them will react more than others.  The ones who react the least are often considered the best riding horses and probably the best therapy horses.  But are these less reactive horses truly mentally healthy?  Or are they shutting down in a desperate attempt to tune out the constant barrage of human emotions?  The ones we often make no attempt to control.  Maybe the less reactive horses are just better able to naturally figure out how to set up boundaries, like Deanna Troi.  Or maybe they can process what they feel better than other horses.  Or maybe they are screaming inside.  The reality is that we don't know.

But we should know.  How many of us would feel comfortable using another person to absorb all of our emotions every day?  I hope that most of us wouldn't.  I hope that we would understand that it isn't fair to ask someone to be exposed to that level of emotion.  That we would expect that person to have breaks from us or need their own space or have their own life and hobbies to help them mentally support themselves.

But it isn't just mental.  We also ask therapy horses, and often other horses, to support riders who have poor physical coordination.  It's easy for us to see the damage that can be done to an average riding horse whose rider does little to improve their own balance.  What about when horses are ridden daily by people who simply can't improve their balance to the point of a good dressage rider?

My friend's horse who died was a very stoic mare.  She rarely got reactive about anything.  And because of her lack of reactivity, she was the horse of choice for the most challenging kids.  The kids who were nonverbal and whose bodies were constantly in motion and out of balance.  These kids would cause extreme reactivity in other therapy horses, but not my friend's horse.  So she supported these kids several times a week.  And within 18 months, she was dead.

That is a steep price to pay for therapy.  We have got to do better, not just for therapy horses, but for our personal horses.  We need to acknowledge that horses do have this amazing ability, and we need to commit to not taking advantage of it to the detriment of the horse.

Mark Rashid is fond of saying that our minds should be like still water when we work with our horses.  And I see that sentiment echoed in other top trainers as well.  These trainers don't bring their emotional baggage to their horses.  In fact, they make a special effort to train their minds through meditation and other mental exercises so that when they are working with a horse, the horse feels nothing from them except what is relevant to the work they are doing.  What a relief that must be after having to constantly sort through random human emotions that they can't understand.

It also reminds me of Nimo.  You see, he worked very hard to train me.  If I lost my focus on the work we were doing, he usually stopped dead.  If I got too out of balance, he stopped dead.  By the time his life ended, I could easily keep my focus on him for a whole ride of 1-2 hours (he cut me some slack on the longer trail rides sometimes:)).  My balance was significantly improved, and it was very rare for him to stop on me.  I wonder if other horses do that too and we think of it as disobedience or poor training.

I know that equine-assisted therapy is a popular thing these days.  And I know that a lot of people in that world consider the horse's massive amount of mirror neurons to be a benefit to the humans who are assisted in that therapy.  What I want to encourage is that we look for ways to support horses in this field.  They probably have needs that go beyond a "normal" horse and we don't have a good grasp of what those might be.  We need to start figuring that out.  At a minimum, though, I would think that having sessions with a good trainer who does have a mind like still water and good balance in the saddle would probably help a lot to recalibrate the horses in between therapy sessions.  I suspect each horse might be a little different, but maybe a good starting point is for each therapy session the horse does, they get another session that is focused on them with a capable professional.  These horses need mental and physical support to help them do their jobs.  

I would also suggest that maybe therapy horses don't do that job for a long time.  (I would also suggest this for lesson horses, which is a whole other can of worms...)  Being a therapy horse shouldn't be the place horses go to retire.  They should go for a year or two and then be placed in a stable and supportive home to thank them for their incredible service.

Finally, I would like to suggest that the rest of us look at ways to stop using our horses as our therapists.  Let's find ways to be mindful and aware of ourselves and leave our emotional baggage at home.

We are so lucky to live in a time when we don't require the brute labor of a horse just to eek out our survival.  Instead, we have the luxury of interacting with these amazing creatures in a way that can honor their nature.  So let's figure out what that looks like.

Taken about a year before he died, this picture shows my 5-year-old daughter putting a halter on Nimo to bring him in for grooming.  He was always quiet and patient with her.

Why don't you just put shoes on her?

If only I had a dollar for every time someone has asked me why I don't just put shoes on Freya, I would be a wealthy woman!

Before I go down this particular rabbit hole, let me clarify how I feel about shoes.  I don't like them.  I have had shoes on my horses in the past, and I never found that they improved my horse's feet.  In fact, they are probably the reason that I lost the horse I had before Nimo.  I have watched horse after horse in various boarding barns gradually lose the optimal structure of their feet the longer they wear shoes.  I see toes that are too long and heels that are underrun and hooves that are simply too high and contracted heels and atrophied frogs and chronic thrush and all sorts of deformities.  I listen to the stories about how the horse just can't seem to keep shoes on, and I've spent a not insignificant amount of time helping people look for lost shoes in the pasture and praying that my horse doesn't step on a horseshoe nail from said lost shoe.

All that said, I also see a lot of those same problems with barefoot horses.  So obviously part of the problem isn't the shoes, it is the way the shoes are applied or the length of time between trims and resets.  The farrier controls part of that equation, but the owner also influences the timing.

I also recognize that there are medical reasons for why a horse would wear shoes.  Navicular, laminitis, surgery, and other physical issues can create serious problems for horses that shoes may be able to help with, given a competent farrier and vet.

So it isn't that I think all shoes should be banned or that anyone who puts shoes on their horse is an idiot.  I just think that the way they are typically used doesn't actually do what people says it does in a lot of cases.  And I think that too many people become farriers without proper training and continuing education.  I can't tell you the amount of BS I have heard come out of farriers' mouths.  But I also know that there are plenty of competent, educated farriers who work hard to improve their skills and take their craft very seriously.  So this isn't meant to be a farrier-bashing post.

In Freya's case, I know why people ask me why I don't just put shoes on her.  She struggles to move soundly without hoof protection.  The biggest game changer in our care of her was when I put hoof boots on her at the recommendation of a farrier I consulted with last August.  I felt incredibly embarrassed once I'd put the boots on her, because it was immediately obvious how much better she moved.

You may remember that when I bought her, she had front shoes on.  I almost didn't buy her for that reason because I really didn't want to try to deal with shoes on a horse again.  Also, the shoes had been on for so long that her hoof angle was significantly distorted and the sole had grown so much that it filled in the space between the shoe.  When I had her shoes pulled, the farrier probably trimmed about a half inch of sole and revealed a blackened area underneath.  It was not pleasant.  He expected me to say that I wanted shoes put back on, but I knew I couldn't put shoes back on those feet in the condition they were in or I'd just be perpetuating the problems she already had.  And I did not then and do not now have regular access to a farrier that I consider to be competent at shoeing a horse.

Freya was sound for a while after the shoes were pulled and I felt comfortable not putting them back on because her previous owner had said they hadn't been on that long (maybe a year) and they weren't put on to address soreness.  But she developed a case of central sulcus thrush in all four feet a few months later.  I didn't realize how serious it was until it was at first because it appeared as thin heel cracks when the environment was dry.  Unfortunately, it was quite advanced and Freya was quite sore before I figured it out, and it took about 5 months to resolve the infection.  Treating for 14 days with the cow mastitis antibiotic Today and following up with daily treatments of No Thrush was what finally worked after I tried an assortment of recommended treatments, including White Lightening and Pete Ramey's goo.

After the infection cleared, she never moved quite right.  For several months I chalked it up to her not having great balance under saddle and having some dysfunctional movement.  But I was not happy with the angles on her feet, particularly the fronts, and it was clear she was struggling under saddle.  I had made a lot of progress trimming them myself, but in all honesty, I wasn't a competent farrier either, so I reached out to a farrier I trusted to get a remote consultation.  That was an eye-opening process.  I learned a lot about how to take pictures of hooves and how easy it is to create the appearance of distortion or minimize distortion inadvertently.  (If you want to start learning about how to take pictures of horse's hooves, check out this article: https://www.theequinedocumentalist.com/post/why-do-photos-lie-and-how-not-to-get-misled and this one: https://www.theequinedocumentalist.com/post/how-to-document-images-and-radiographs-for-successful-hoof-care-and-promote-soundness-in-horses.)

Here is an example of one hoof that I took pictures of for the consultation.  By the time I was done doing pictures of all four feet, I felt like I was lost in the Bermuda Triangle with no sense of direction.  I think I even managed to somehow get the right and left front legs mixed up and mislabeled despite my best efforts.  It was a very humbling experience.

I learned that my trimming was not bad, but there were a few improvements I could make, like trimming her bars more frequently, leaving a little more vertical wall, particularly at the heels to address her NPA, and more assertively dressing the distortion of the hoof.  The farrier also recommended hoof boots for her front feet.  

And I thought the farrier was a nutter.  I was like, this mare lives in a grass paddock and spends her days in a well-bedded stall.  When she is ridden, she walks a short distance over a smooth bluestone parking area and then works in sand.  How could she possibly need hoof boots?  I mean, hoof boots are to provide protection from hard or rocky ground, right?

But I did happen to have a set of Easyboot Epics that I had bought for her a year before.  Because when she first started to move with discomfort, I thought she might need hoof boots.  But when I discovered she had thrush, I figured the infection was causing the discomfort and I never used the boots.  (You guys!  I could seriously smack my old self in the head!!!)

Anyway, since I had paid for the consultation, I dutifully dragged the hoof boots out of storage and put them on.  And proceeded to be blown away by how much more comfortable Freya was.  Instead of mincing steps, she was taking big strides.  Instead of short-striding behind, she was almost tracking up.  I definitely had to eat a lot of crow that day, and I've spent no small amount of time beating myself up for letting my endurance-colored glasses influence how I cared for Freya.

And shortly after adding the hoof boots, I added pads to the boots based on a recommendation from another farrier that I didn't realize I knew.  Well, actually I knew her from my endurance days.  We'd become virtual friends over time, and I knew she trimmed her own horse's feet, but I didn't know that she was an actual farrier who specializes in teaching people how to trim their horse's feet.  She travels quite a bit and even works with vets to help them overcome their archaic treatments for navicular and laminitis cases that often make things worse instead of better.  She has even rehabbed her own horse that she rescued when the horse had a severe case of laminitis, resulting in a coffin bone that had penetrated the sole.  The mare now has great feet and happily goes for miles out on rugged mountain rides.  She wears hoof boots for rides, but is otherwise barefoot.

Thankfully, she decided to take pity on me and provided quite a bit of guidance as I entered the world of booting a horse that really needs hoof protection from more than just rocks.  I'm still learning, and my next step is to learn how to stealth the boots so Gemma can show in disciplines where hoof boots are not allowed (I mean, why?  Shoes are allowed, so why wouldn't hoof boots?)

As for why I don't put shoes on Freya, there are a few reasons.  One, I don't have access to a farrier that I trust to put the shoes on properly.  It's hard to believe that I can't find such a farrier in northern Virginia, because it is major horse country, but few farriers are taking new clients these days, and I question whether any farrier would be willing to give me as much control as I want over Freya's feet.  Two, her angles are still not right, so she needs frequent trimming (like every 2 weeks) to keep her hooves as balanced as possible while I whittle away at the returning the correct angle to her foot without taking too much off.  I need to bring her toe back a bit more, but she also has thin soles, so I'm trying to take what I can without making her uncomfortable.  Three, her heels are still contracted and her frogs are still atrophied (on her front feet, not so much her hind feet, which were spared the incorrect shoeing practices), so she remains prone to thrush.  This year, we caught it sooner and treated more aggressively faster, but she still got sore.  Because of the frog atrophy, she would need pads if she were shod, but if she wears pads with shoes, I can't treat for thrush (unless she gets a screw on plate, which is really not practical).

I am considering the possibility of using one of the Easycare hoof boots or shoes as a glue-on once we can get out of thrush season and the ground is drier to see if there is a positive impact for her wearing hoof protection 24/7.   The trick is to find a way to glue it on so it isn't necessarily set for a 6-week cycle and I can get it off after, say 2-3 weeks, without causing a lot of damage to the hoof wall to keep up with her trimming needs.  I really wish the Megasus Horserunners hoof boots had made it past the kick-starter phase, because those would be perfect for what I need.  Those hoof boots worked by gluing on tabs to the horse's hoof (sort of like the new EasyShoe Versa Grip Octo) but you could click the bottom part on and take it off at will.  

I have tried leaving Freya's hoof boots on overnight during turnout to see if she benefits, but the wet Virginia clay acts like lubricant and the boots end up twisting a little and Freya is not happy in them.  So I could potentially leave the boots on if it was dry, but I think a better solution would be some kind of temporary glue-ons where I could either use pads or do a pour-in pad.

So anyway, the saga continues as I work to find the best solution for Freya using the resources I have available to me.  And her feet aren't the only piece of her story.  I have spent the past several months doing a deep dive into classical French dressage, the Balance Through Movement Method, Science of Motion, bodywork techniques like the Masterson Method and Tami Elkayam's work, plus therapies like red-light therapy and magnets.  I wish I could tell you how the story ends, but Freya is definitely still a work in progress:)