Stretching In My Field: The Experience of Inviting Horses Into the
Therapy Session- Part Two
Ulla Frederiksen,
MA, LLP
Being a
psychologist with a traditional office, it was easy for me to control
the therapeutic environment. I had the proverbial couch and a clear
understanding of my role. But when Sundance and Black Jack, my two aging
gelding horses; Kerry, my horse professional; and the great outdoors
became part of my therapy sessions, maintaining control wasn’t always so
simple.
.... In part one of this article I discussed what led me to Equine
Assisted Psychotherapy (EAP) and how the process pushed my professional
boundaries. Next I’ll share challenges of giving up control, changing my
professional perspective, as well as the rewards this work brings to the
therapy process.
At my rustic outdoor farm office, I
have much less control in this environment. There are minor
distractions, usually part of nature, like a cat jumping in a lap, my
dog wanting attention, beautiful birds flying overhead, storms rolling
in, mosquitoes, flies, or a turtle coming up from the oxbow behind the
field. These distractions seem fleeting in comparison with the Fed-Ex
truck bumbling down the drive, pulling up to the fence, mid-session and
honking to deliver a package. There was the hunter in full camouflage,
gun in hand, emerging from the woods behind the barn, practically
walking right through my group-therapy session for women seeking
personal growth. I remember being too shocked to even speak. All that
came out of my mouth was, “Oh, a hunter!” Hunting happens no more than
a handful of times during the year on that property and it never
occurred to me that it may happen during an EAP day; until of course, it
did! Sometimes the distraction is the noisy, huge combine harvesting
beans in the field next door, other times it is someone coming to the
pasture to give me a flier or business card advertising new windows or
stump removal. I can’t control the turtle coming out of the water to lay
her eggs, nor the Fed-Ex trucks bringing packages for my husband.
Learning to respond to all of these interferences and remain
present with my clients has proved to be very challenging for me.
I discovered that partnering with the
horse professional added even more challenges than the boundary issues
mentioned in part one. I realized I was used to the control of
facilitating private sessions in my office, where I am in charge of my
behavior, responses, feelings, and my level of self-disclosure. Having
a second facilitator adds a whole new dimension. I am not in charge of
Kerry’s mood or her choices of self-disclosure. In the beginning of our
partnership, when Kerry responded to a client, I would find myself
wondering how much she would reveal about herself, where she was going
with the conversation, and if it was appropriate…and then wondering if I
should intervene or let it go and see where it would take us. It’s a
lot to think about.
When I am away on EAP trainings, I
always feel at home in the casual outdoor environment. By dinnertime,
you can always spot the therapists from the horse people. The therapists
have changed clothes for the evening; the horse people are still
comfortable in their jeans. As I have done more and more EAP, my attire
has become increasingly casual, even when I go to the office. The jeans,
t-shirt, and hat that seem fitting in the barn have become so
comfortable to me that I sometimes go to professional lunches and
meetings in my new “uniform.” It was not without trepidation when I
first stepped out of the barn wearing my cowboy hat, but now I feel free
to continue my love affair with the horse world and its gear.
When I felt ready to show my stuff, I
invited the local community mental health department out for an EAP
demonstration and have received a steady stream of referrals ever since.
I negotiated a higher rate to cover the cost of the horse professional,
which they generously awarded. They seem proud to offer something
unique. Other professional groups and individuals have been to our EAP
introductions and word is spreading slowly but steadily. I now enjoy a
small amount of local fame, finding myself greeted with enthusiasm: “Oh,
you are that horse therapist I’ve heard about.” Last year I was invited
to a regional conference of the North American Riding for the
Handicapped Association where Kerry and I demonstrated EAP to a large
audience. This kind of demonstration is still out of the comfort zone
for me, but I do it because it seems like there is a natural flow that I
am not in control over. I try to step out of the way and let it happen,
much like I often encourage my clients to do.
The major distractions haven’t
stopped, however, I do react with more ease and grace. I find that if I
take my clients’ lead and monitor their level of comfort or discomfort
with the intrusion, we can actually use the experience therapeutically.
Just last week, a motorcycle rider showed up at the gate during a
session. My client pointed and calmly said: “You have a visitor.” I took
her quiet composure as a sign that this was no big deal to her, so I
went to see my visitor while Kerry and the client continued the
conversation. My visitor was interested in knowing where I got the
tee-pee in the front yard. I briefly talked with him and excused myself
to get back to the session. I’ve found distractions like this to not be
the horrible problem I once thought them to be; rather they are part of
what happens on a farm, especially one with a tee-pee in the yard. The
funny thing is that while I first looked at these interruptions as a
hassle, through stretching, they have become a useful metaphor. The
client we were working with at the time has struggled with high anxiety
and control issues. When I pointed out to her that she handled the
disturbance with a calm and easy-going style, she agreed that it was a
sign of her progress. This work is an opportunity for myself as well as
for my clients, to learn to deal gracefully with what life offers us.
I am also pleased to report that I
have found Kerry to be the most wonderful partner and horse professional
I could hope for. As we deepened our relationship and trust over time,
my initial angst evaporated. Now I am at the point where I miss having
a partner when I am working alone in my office. Having another
perspective helps me clarify my own counter-transference issues and in
explaining clinical processes and rationale, I find myself reaching
deeper for wisdom. Teaching someone else about the therapeutic process
makes me scrutinize my therapy-style and methods more closely and the
end result is that clients receive higher quality services from a more
self-aware therapist.
The positive and rewarding experience
I’ve had with my horse professional opened the door for me to stretch
and grow further when approached by graduate students seeking clinical
internships. Thus far, two interns have specifically sought me out
because EAP was part of my practice. Since I don’t have a PhD, it is
unlikely that I would have the opportunity to supervise clinical interns
in my small private practice. However, these resourceful interns found a
way to get their state-required supervision elsewhere, while I remained
their “field” supervisor. Had I not made the leap, I would have never
had the opportunity to share my work and mentor young professionals
starting out in their careers.
The biggest reward is the impact this
work is having on my clients. One of my first EAP clients told me that
coming to the farm and seeing me in my home environment helped her get
to know me better and therefore trust me more easily. Being engaged
with the horses helped her identify, understand and reduce the
dissociative state in which she had been living. The horses demand that
you are present and authentic with them. They can’t trust you otherwise,
and will refuse to cooperate. In two short years, this client has
learned to be comfortable with her feelings, to be present for her own
life and is now able to hold a high level job, and have rewarding
relationships. The horse factor helped her get there faster because of
the hands-on and immediate nature of EAP.
A more recent client was very open
about her dark, sinister attitude concerning the merits of therapy. She
had been to many different psychologists over the years without results.
I quickly suggested she try EAP in hopes that we could bypass her “I
don’t like therapy and nothing is going to work” defense mechanism.
Despite a terrible allergy to horses, she is now, for the first time in
her life, engaged in a healing process. She tells me that being in the
pasture with the animals helps reduce her anxiety to a point where she
is willing to look at painful issues in her life.
Our aforementioned recovering
alcoholic, discussed in my previous article has given us valuable
feedback as well. She feels that she has a whole team supporting her in
her recovery, not just a therapist. Interacting with all of us; the
horses, Kerry, the intern and myself, is giving her valuable social
skills and has inspired her to volunteer at a non-profit therapeutic
riding center. Discussing issues such as the beer-fridge has also helped
her gain insights about boundaries.
It is an inspiration to get this kind
of feedback from my clients and to witness their personal growth. I am
also continually amazed at my own growth, both professionally and
personally, as I move forward with EAP. I intend to continue to
stretch. On the horizon for me are further trainings, expanded services
and possibly incorporating as a non-profit organization. Even writing
this article is a stretch, but I am finding that just like in my yoga
class, through practice, a new pose that at first may feel painful or
awkward can open you to new and rewarding experiences.
Ulla Frederiksen, MA, LLP
has been practicing psychotherapy for
twelve years and offering EAP for four. She owns a private practice in
Kalamazoo and has her farm office in Plainwell,
MI.
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