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The
Invisible Way:
Horse as Spiritual Mirror
Leigh Shambo,
MSW, Epona Advanced Facilitator
I recently saw a
Grizwells comic strip where Gunther’s porcupine friend, Pierpont, races
up and cries, “Gunther, there’s a bunch of equestrians hooting and
hollering down at the campground!” Gunther yawns and says, “I’m not at
all surprised… it seems like someone comes up with a new church every
time I turn around.” I laughed, for I find myself on the forefront
of a great movement in the horse world, and there is no question that it
is a spiritual as well as an equestrian movement. It is an opening into
the deeper lessons that horses can teach us about ourselves.
.... These lessons
are rippling beyond the traditional horse world, drawing more people who
are interested in the healing potential of the horse-human bond although
they may not own a horse or even be able to ride. With my colleague
Mary Louise Gould, I teach a workshop titled, “The Invisible Way: Horse
as Spiritual Mirror”. What is the invisible way? Quite simply, it is
an inner path that involves recognizing false thinking that does not
serve ourselves or those around us. In an almost miraculous way that is
also very casual and mundane, the horses demonstrate an exquisite
responsiveness to our ability to stay close to the truth of who we are.
The story of
Cheryl illustrates the profound sense of opening that can occur when the
horses help show us the way to our authentic self. Cheryl came to her
first workshop with no horse experience, and yet she had seen the flyer
and felt a distinct tug of interest. In our opening circle, she
introduced herself with the words, “I am a nobody, really.” You could
almost feel the group wince as her words fell on compassionate ears.
As the workshop unfolded over three days, Cheryl also revealed that her
life had long been dictated by what others found sensible for her: a
career as an accountant, marriage to a successful man she wasn’t sure
she loved, and almost no recreation or independence.
Horses are very
personal teachers of the spiritual path. They care not what our level
of learned knowledge is, or any of the worldly markers of what has come
to be called “success”. They do care what is in our hearts, and about
our state of clarity, or “innocence”. Most horses respond gently and
with care to the touch of a child, and this is what Cheryl found in her
interactions with a mustang mare named Shadow.
Shadow clearly
showed a preference for interacting with Cheryl as she spoke words of
truth about who she was and what she wanted to do with her life. It was
like biofeedback for the soul, and a beautiful dance unfolded between
Cheryl and Shadow. By the end of the workshop, Cheryl was radiant and
exuded presence from a rediscovered authentic self that she had been
unsure how to find. Over the next year Cheryl came back for more horse
experiences, and it was wonderful to witness the unfoldment of
soul-fulfilling changes in her life.
The workshop
exercises teach a body based self-awareness method, and we educate
participants in reading and responding to equine body language so that a
person can easily discern many of the horse’s reactions to their
thoughts and feelings. In very specific ways, the horses can teach us
how to stay in a consciousness that optimizes harmonious co-creation,
and to bring even our most subtle non-verbal behavior into congruence
with intention. And, they can help us become aware of the ways in
which we send the universe mixed messages, as happened with a workshop
participant named Terry.
A single,
mature adult, Terry had been adopted as an infant. He had struggled his
entire life with a deep sense of loneliness, an old ache that sent him
searching in spiritual directions. He wasn’t sure what drew him to the
horse workshop. He had an admiration for horses, but no experience, and
he felt some fear of their power and size. Assured that there was no
riding in the workshop, he felt the horses might just have something to
teach him about “walking the talk” of the inner work he had done.
Maybe, in some way, Spirit could speak through the horses and tell him
how to do his part in calling forth the gift of engagement in his most
personal relationships.
Early in the
workshop, Terry felt that a horse named Dasha seemed to be reaching out
to him and he chose her to work with individually. He felt comfortable
being close to Dasha, feeling her silky coat, and the whisper of her
breath on his arm as she nuzzled him. Suddenly, something distracted
Dasha and she looked away for a long moment. Not knowing what to do,
Terry turned and walked away several steps, and the dainty mare followed
him. This is the “join up” response, the attraction that horses have
for a person who has earned their trust and respect. Her neck was
stretched long and low, with her ears pricked, indicating trust and
interest.
When Terry
turned and saw that Dasha was still at his elbow, he looked shocked.
Doubt was written on his face and slowly, he walked backward several
steps. This time, Dasha did not follow. Terry could begin to
identify the ways in which he sent signals that invited a disconnect—the
same signals he unconsciously sent in human relationships. Over the
workshop period, Terry learned how to cultivate equine join-up, to work
with it and make it more durable, more palpable, safer. And he learned
a lot about the specific ways that his fears could actually drive away
that which he most desired.
My elderly
riding master used to say, “The horse is nature.” Indeed, their very
presence opens our senses and brings us into the immediacy of the
present moment. In moment-to-moment interactions they provide a
reliable roadmap to clearing our psyches of erroneous thoughts patterns
that no longer serve us, so that the authentic Self can shine through
more vibrantly than before. As with other elements of nature, moments
of embodied, earthy bliss are interspersed with moments of challenge.
From the moments of challenge we have the opportunity to emerge as one
unit, human and horse, of one mind— if we stay grounded in the
flexibility and wisdom of the authentic Self. Partnering with horses
gives practice in creating unity as a living, breathing process.
It was almost a
year after her experience with Shadow that Cheryl wrote a letter to me
expressing her heartfelt gratitude for the opportunity to work with the
horses in the “Invisible Way”. Her life had changed and she would
never again characterize herself as a nobody. Her final sentence said
it all. “I entered into this process expecting to find out what was
wrong with me”, she wrote. “Instead, I found out all that is right
with me, and I’ve learned how to stand by myself and extend this out
into the world. To dance in the world and with the world, as I danced
with Shadow that day.”
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