‘Listen to the horse’ (Tom
Dorrance, True Unity, 1987, P 21)
Tom Dorrance was insistent that listening was the most
important aspect of communication with horses. He said that, while most people
start from themselves, from where they are, and try to work back to the
horse, he ‘tries to listen to the horse… to feel what the horse is feeling
and operate from where the horse is’. Listening, he says, is essential to the
capacity to feel the whole horse inside ourselves (pp 12-14, 21), that is, to
the capacity to participate in horse-and-human feedback systems (see the previous
‘It has to be a togetherness’ (Tom Dorrance, True Unity, 1987, P 11)
Tom Dorrance insisted that togetherness, ‘this thing between the horse and the person’ could not be learnt through instruction – ‘do this and you get that’. Rather, it was a matter of ‘feel’, something that could only be acquired through full-bodied experience. Speaking of his own experience, he said ‘I try to feel what the horse is feeling and operate from where the horse is’. To feel ‘the whole horse’, he said, involves feeling ‘inside the horse, right in his innards’. And, most importantly, we feel ‘the inside of the horse… from inside of ourselves’. In short, feel is an experience of entwined being (Pp 12-14). To develop an understanding of this experience, in this post I want to introduce the ecological idea of feedback. Continue reading Living in-relation with horses: feedback→
I said that this post would be on feedback, but there’s something more immediate I’d like to talk about here – stroking our horses. Stroking has enormous significance to what Tom Dorrance describes as the ‘foundation’ of horsemanship – horses ‘coming to us for security’ (True Unity, p 12). Without this, he says, nothing will work. Above all else, we want our horses to feel happy and safe with us. This is what leadership is about.
In an excellent article about the significance of connection, Jo Spiller says
So how do you create this partnership? You don’t do anything to create it, because it’s not a matter of doing. It is much more a matter of who you are being. You see, we have language for doing things: we can say ‘Put your heels down’, ‘Sit up straight’… but nobody can tell you how to do ‘being’.
After years of teaching riders and training horses, Spiller says that she suddenly saw what had been there in plain sight. She’d been too busy doing things to see that the basis of good horsemanship was the capacity to develop a connection with horses. And, ‘in order to achieve that connection’, she realized, we ‘must undergo a transformation’, a change in form of being.
In previous posts I’ve made references to softness – to soft ways of looking, to the softness in states of being calm, present and focussed, to the softness in a connection between human-and-horse. For example, with reference to the kangaroo experience, I said that Corey softly picked up a feel on the rein, and looked softly at the kangaroo to help Pia soften, relax and become curious. In this post, I want to think more about what is involved in a soft way of being and why this is so important to being-in-relation with horses.
Any activity performed with skill requires good timing. This is true of catching a wave, for example, or hitting a ball or playing a musical instrument or dancing …. Good timing is also essential to skilful horsemanship, both on the ground and in the saddle. Whatever the specific skill might be, acquiring the capacity for good timing takes never-ending practice, and it depends on a particular temporal way of being – being present.
In this post, I’ll just give one example of the connected form of support that I outlined in the previous post. The situation that I’ll describe will be immediately recognisable to horse people. The ways of addressing it vary enormously.
My horse Pia is very sensitive and can easily frighten. So, we pay particular attention to ensuring that she feels safe with us. When we offer support, it’s crucial that it be something that she will look for and appreciate, rather than something to brace against. The more I work with Corey, the more trusting and happy Pia becomes – it is a joy to see the transformation.
In this post, I want to introduce one of the most basic issues for living in-relation with horses, that of support. From the relational perspective of inter-being, giving support is our key responsibility in this relation.
Working with Corey Ryan, I am continually learning the significance of support in a horse-human relation, and how this is analogous to that called for in a student-teacher relation. When I am with Corey, I find that I am able to let go of any worries or fearful anticipations and remain present to what is at hand, open to possibilities and confident in trying things out. Quite simply, I feel supported in this learning experience. I am also very aware that, in Corey’s presence, horses remain or become calm and relaxed, and, in that state, curious about their environment and capable of learning new things. Clearly, then, we are sharing this experience of support and calmness. And, so, I make the rather obvious connection: Corey is giving me the sort of support that I need to give horses, and through his support I am developing the capacity to support them. Continue reading Living in-relation with horses: support→
This is the first of a series of posts I hope to do on living in-relation with horses.
I have been inspired to write about this by Corey Ryan, a horseman with whom I’ve been working over the past year. Corey’s understanding of relationship and connection makes such a difference to the learning experience for horse and human. Through him, I am learning anew the significance of a relational way of being, and more and more about being in-relation with horses. I will be giving examples of these learning experiences in subsequent posts.
Here I want to take as a starting point the ecological principle of universal connectedness, and raise some questions about the implications of this for living in-relation with horses. The Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh uses the term ‘interbeing’ to describe this ecological principle. He says ‘To be is to inter-be. You cannot just be by yourself alone. You have to inter-be with every other thing’. All things in the universe are interconnected. The vegetables that I am eating needed the sun and rain and earth to grow; the rain needed a cloud that was blown by a wind that connected far distant places and people… (The Heart of Understanding P4). Continue reading Living in-relation with horses: interbeing→
Elisa è cresciuta a Firenze, la città natale della mamma, ma ha sempre mantenuto un forte legame con Anghiari, dove vive la famiglia del babbo, una famiglia molto numerosa. Adesso Daniele ed Elisa abitano con i genitori di lei nella loro casa in campagna, fuori Anghiari. Elisa è un’agronoma tropicalista e lavora in un’azienda del posto che produce macchine per l’agricoltura, il che comporta frequenti viaggi in Africa. Questa intervista si è svolta in italiano ed è stata poi trascritta e tradotta in inglese da Mirella Alessio. Questa ne è una versione editata.
Sono nata a Firenze il 17 ottobre 1969, lì ho fatto tutte le scuole e l’università. Anghiari è sempre stata l’altra metà della mia vita perché la mamma è di Firenze, babbo di Anghiari. Loro si sono conosciuti a Firenze, si sono sposati e hanno abitato sempre lì, però per il forte legame che il babbo aveva con Anghiari, noi siamo sempre venuti qua. Da principio andavamo a dormire dalla nonna e poi il babbo ha comprato una casa, nel 1973, io avevo quattro anni, è la stessa casa dove abitiamo adesso, l’unica casa che io ho sempre visto perché invece a Firenze abbiamo cambiato diverse case e diversi rioni.