Healthy Boundaries: Consistency Balanced with Flexibility
Leigh Shambo,
MSW
Human Equine Alliances for Learning
It is fun and
interesting to return to my herd when I come home from my
frequent trips away. Ameer, the Arabian gelding, is the most
expressive about greeting me. Recently, my return from a longer
than usual trip had the horses excited, and four of them had
galloped up by the barn to greet me. As they were cavorting and
exuberant, I did not want them too close to me and so held my
hand up to signal my boundary. I noticed how Ameer held back
until I lowered my hand. Then, he galloped up very close,
stopped on a dime beside me and wrapped his neck about me in a
hug. Because it was Ameer, because I trust him so much, and
because I understood what he was doing, it felt natural—and
joyous and exhilarating—to experience and allow this. Was it
wrong?
....
We are frequently exhorted in the horse world to be consistent,
and to have good boundaries. Yet, it’s not always simple to
figure out what that means. Boundaries are an important
cornerstone of good relationship. And yet to truly function in
organic environments, to truly be useful and adaptive,
boundaries have to be flexible. Good boundaries are all about
discernment, letting in the good as well as keeping out the
bad. And boundaries must be grown from the inside out, each
person must understand where they are putting their boundaries
and why. And it is wise to remember that boundaries can be part
of our authenticity in relationships, or they can be rigid,
“knee jerk” reactions from so-called “false self patterns”.
Boundaries are one of the most concrete manifestation of the
invisible agreements between human and horse. Seemingly simple
at first, the delicate dance of ever-changing boundaries invites
a lifetime of possible learning. When are we safe? What is
respectful behavior? Can the rules change from moment to
moment? The fact is, that boundaries are confusing because they
often change (sometimes even moment to moment), because they are
highly situational, and the interpersonal signals with which we
signal our personal boundaries are often very subtle. This is
true even when we are capable of relative clarity and
consistency with boundaries. There is an optimum balance for
boundaries. Consistency and firmness are tempered by a
reasonable flexibility and understanding of how the boundary
“fits” the situation.
My colt
Tankha, who is almost two years old now, had a tougher time than
some horses learning about spatial boundaries and to control his
nipping. He has this challenge both by nature and (literally!)
by nurture as well. As soon as he had risen, nursed and began
to notice his environment, he was on to me like a puppy—friendly
and inquisitive, not the least bit shy, and liked body contact,
even with humans. This is very appealing in a young foal, but
also signals a bold personality that can be a challenge as the
horse grows.
Tankha’s disposition was further shaped by the unfolding of his
first weeks. His dam Frieda was critically ill with peritonitis
during the late stages of the pregnancy. She had lost much
weight in spite of intensive veterinary care. And it quickly
became evident she wasn’t making enough milk to support this
foal. By the middle of his 2nd day, Tankha was
losing energy, and shivering on the cold, late March afternoon,
even in the barn. I learned to feed him with a bottle, and then
I piled up the straw, brought out a blanket and pillow, and
slept with Tankha to keep him warm. In the following days many
of the volunteers and friends associated with Human-Equine
Alliances for Learning (HEAL) offered help with the constantly
growing chore of supplementing Frieda’s scant milk with bottles,
and later on, a bucket. I was grateful when Frieda slowly began
to recover her condition.
Being
smart and personable, and very trainable, it was not difficult
for Tankha to learn and respect my boundaries, since I
interacted with him many times daily. But, being smart and
personable, Tankha would instantly ascertain the varying
boundaries (or lack thereof!) of each individual person! You
could see that he would investigate each new person to discover
where they would set their boundaries. More than once, a person
who could not convey the integrity of their spatial boundaries
was rewarded with a nip. During this time, I fully realized the
difficulty of communicating to a horse where the boundaries
should be, when the visitor themselves did not own the power to
set boundaries. I will always remember Tankha’s first session
as a therapeutic helper in my practice.
A nine
year old boy named Nate was referred to me for acting out in
“sexually aggressive” manner at school, intimidating other
children into exposing themselves, and talking with them in
sexually explicit terms. Nate was all boy, bold and charming
with a brilliant smile. I also recognized that he had a marked
tendency to tell others just what he thought they expected.
Several times during the intake process I watched Nate’s mother
speak to him about “boundaries”, and I could see he had little
idea what she was talking about.
Nate’s
face lit up when I told him that one member of my herd was also
a growing boy, just like Nate himself (Tankha was about 6 months
old at that time). After meeting the other horses, we walked
over to the pasture where Frieda and Tankha were grazing.
Tankha, of course, immediately came to the fence, friendly and
engaged. So cute. So appealing. Nate was delighted as Tankha
nuzzled him through the fence. Nate and I stood there talking
for awhile, and I sensed Tankha’s mood. He was pretty mellow on
this sunny autumn afternoon. Taking a calculated risk, I asked
Nate if he would like to go inside the pasture. “Sure!”
Well, I
knew what would happen and it did. Under my close and watchful
eye, and with subtle signals to Tankha not to nip, that
colt nuzzled the boy up and down in a most friendly
fashion! I’m quite sure Nate felt somewhat undressed himself
that day. It only took about 30 seconds for Nate to gasp in a
breathless voice, “Can we go back on the other side of the
fence?” Now we began to talk boundaries in a way that Nate
could understand. Nate went on to work with the older horses,
who taught him how to negotiate and maintain boundaries in
relationships where the boundaries are less fixed, and much less
obvious, than a fence.
In working with
Tankha to be respectful of people, I noticed a tendency in his
responses that disturbed me. Often, when he was in a “nippy”
mood, he needed quite a bit of correction and shaping behavior.
But if my corrections got too sharp, too rigid, he would
sometimes bite himself, and I mean hard! A couple of times in
my life I have met horses that self-mutilated, biting chunks out
of their own hide in response to stress. I knew I did not want
Tankha moving in the direction of this horrible habit. I had to
watch carefully that others could exercise care and discernment
in their boundary work with Tankha, and I fired one barn helper
who couldn’t seem to modulate her “expert horse trainer” persona
even though her too sharp corrections provoked this anxious and
self-destructive tendency in my young horse.
It is fascinating to
watch how Tankha learns increasing discernment about people’s
personal boundaries, and how he teaches people to define their
boundaries in ways that are firm but flexible enough to fit the
situation. He has learned to nuzzle without nipping. He has
learned that sometimes people don’t even want nuzzling! As
Tankha matures, he gains savvy about boundaries and growing
confidence in his own self-control. Still, he shows anxiety in
the presence of people who think that they will “teach him a
lesson he won’t forget”. If they will let him, this teacher
with a bright coppery coat can teach them how to be consistent,
firm and flexible—conveying the integrity of their
personal space with softness and grace.
