A Gallant Friend and Teacher
By Leigh Shambo,
MSW
About
four and a half years ago, I met a tall, elegant Thoroughbred
gelding named Gallant. I meet many horses in my work as a
teacher in the field of equine-assisted psychotherapy and
learning, but this meeting felt different. I experienced a
visceral sense of awe and profound respect at Gallant’s noble
bearing, his courtly manner of greeting me, and I heard
the phrase, “I am a teacher.” I felt that I was in the presence
of a truly exceptional being. In a moment of shared
recognition, a friendship sprouted. How was I to know that
eventually he would teach me some profound lessons?
....
Gallant belonged to a friend of mine, Catherine, a novice rider,
and Gallant was her first horse. When I tried to explain to
Catherine that I felt Gallant was telling me he was a teacher,
she gave me a funny look and said, “Well, he’s teaching me about
riding!” I didn’t think that was exactly what Gallant meant,
but I could see the truth in what Catherine said. When she rode
him he took good care of her and was forgiving of all she did
not know. He was about 16 then, handsome and in good health.
I thought Catherine was lucky to have such a fine horse.
It was
two years later when I asked Catherine if Gallant could
participate in a workshop called “Energy and Grace” which I
teach with Kathleen Barry Ingram, being hosted that year at the
stable where Gallant was boarded. Catherine said Gallant had
been lame and confined to a stall; he was not sound enough to
ride. When I explained that the workshop does not involve
riding and that we could employ him in the quiet, “reflective”
exercises that teach human self-awareness, she gave her
permission. And it was a good thing that she did, as Gallant
himself insisted on being part of the learning community
of our workshop! He picked a participant, and engaged her in
the reflective work in such a way that she later wrote to me,
“My life has changed in so many ways [since the session with
Gallant]. That day was truly a crossroads in my life, and I
gained strength, wisdom and a true respect for what the horses
can teach us if we only let them.” This, I thought, was what
Gallant meant when he referred to himself as Teacher!
Over
the next few years, I had few opportunities to interact with
Gallant, although I thought of him often. Catherine kept me
informed of ongoing health and soundness issues. There were
some accidents that required stitches, then white line disease
in his feet, and then an unexplained but serious bout of
laminitis. She was no longer able to ride him, and he required
constant care and had incurred significant veterinary expenses.
I was saddened to learn that this wise, gentle horse, this noble
teacher with a huge heart, was increasingly experienced as a
burden by Catherine. She was attached to him and cared for all
of his medical needs, but she missed the riding and felt that
much of the joy had gone out of horse ownership.
Meanwhile, my own life was not without a sense of struggle and
hardship, even in the midst of very significant blessings. My
passion for the work I do is fueled by frequent affirmations
from participants of how inspiring, even life changing,
equine-assisted personal growth is. Still, it is difficult for
many clients in my rural area to pay full fee, and I see many
clients for reduced fee and work tirelessly on fund-raising and
grants for the non-profit fund in an effort to make services
available. I love my herd and my farm, but it demands hard,
constant work, even with the help of a dedicated employee,
Khrista Englehardt, who also volunteers many extra hours because
she believes in the work and has seen for herself what it means
for clients. The needs of the horses and the business itself
often come before my own. Almost 6 years after starting HEAL
and my own EAP/L practice, it is still often difficult to make
ends meet, and there are times when I feel financially
frightened and discouraged.
And so,
I was not looking to add another horse to my herd, when
Catherine told me she could no longer keep Gallant. She asked
me if I would be willing to give him a home. I immediately
remembered the first day I met Gallant, the power of his
presence and my certainty that he was a teacher. I felt
trepidation given Gallant’s medical issues, but I also felt
frightened for him—what might happen to a great horse who was
not yet old, yet no longer sound enough for riding? I gave the
matter a period of contemplation, in which several intuitive
signs signaled me to say yes, including Gallant’s own request
(through an animal communicator that Catherine consulted) to
come here.
The day
I went to pick up Gallant, who I had not seen in person for
almost two years, I was shocked at the serious deterioration of
his physical condition. This noble giant, once so elegant
looking, was a shadow of his former self. I took a deep
breath and decided to trust all of the events that resulted in
my custody of this wise soul, now in a very compromised body.
Most troubling of all, Gallant seemed dissociative –
emotionally “checked out”, and I wondered if he was in a great
deal of pain, or even preparing to leave his body for good.
I
confess that I felt a great deal of resistance to Gallant at
first. My own fears that I could not be abundant enough to
support him, financially and emotionally, felt overwhelming for
the first month. My rational mind questioned the wisdom of
taking on a horse with so many needs. That actually states it
much too mildly: my “rational mind” (what we sometimes refer to
at Epona as the ‘false self’) was frequently going crazy
in that month, beating up my intuitive side for a foolhardy
decision based on sentiment. Gallant seemed to sense my
internal conflict, and he resisted my attempts to manage his
health issues or even make him more comfortable, until finally I
softened and resolved to let Gallant’s own wisdom guide the
process of what would, or would not, be done for him.
It is
never a mistake to stand by a friend, and I am discovering that
I have much to learn. I think back to the words I heard when I
first met Gallant— “I am a teacher”— and I feel them very
personally now: he is my teacher. Soon after his
arrival at my farm, I found myself looking differently at
people, especially elderly people. One day I saw an elderly man
hobbling across the parking lot at Safeway. Something in the
man’s crooked gait reminded me of Gallant and I immediately
thought, “There is a man with lots to teach.” I think
previously I have viewed people in the aging process with
sympathy, a sort of misguided tenderness verging on pity.
Gallant
requires that I respect his dignity. He rejects my attempts to
help when such gestures are born of my own discomfort with his
infirmities; he is offended by attempts to “fix” him. I’m not
the only one who has felt this. Gallant seems to have a built
in “motive-meter”, and he opens up to help from anybody only
when it is given in a true spirit of generosity, only when it is
based on true discernment of what he needs and finds helpful.
I watch
Gallant and the effect he has on people, and he is a model of
grace in his vulnerability. He has needs without being needy,
and he invites people to support and help him because they feel
honored by him. For instance, one day he was injured by a kick
from one of the other horses. I had witnessed the conflict, and
looked him over carefully, but missed the injury because it
happened to be right under his tail. A little while later,
Gallant came into the barn where I was working, and he lay down
directly in front of me, patiently watching me. The dignified
vulnerability of his gesture touched me deeply, and he was
obviously asking me to take another look; as soon as this
message became clear he again stood, whereupon I investigated
further and discovered the wound which needed treatment.
Gallant’s way of saying “thank you”, when he has accepted
kindness and care, is to lay his forehead against my heart.
With such gestures, he touches people with his nobility and
kindness, and people are inspired to support him, not from a
misplaced pity, but from a true respect for this horse’s noble
heart. At least some of the extra services and expenses
related to his health, which at first triggered my own fears,
Gallant attracts to himself by simply being who he is—a horse
with dignity, heart and wisdom.
Some of
the physical issues that Gallant came with seem to be improving
slowly, but it’s hard to tell what the future will bring. He no
longer dissociates, and I like to see that as a sign of
improvement, and it’s also true that I am learning how to
be fully present to him in a deeper, more reverent way. He may
not ever be ridden again, and it may be hard to keep him
healthy, least in the physical sense. Perhaps it is even
possible, that in his compromised body, he is a more powerful
teacher than ever. I don’t think he really minds his body all
that much, in spite of its obvious discomforts. Gallant seems
to be all about the life of the soul, and all about authentic,
loving relationship. He is a powerful and wise teacher, and I
am honored to be his student.
