The Clinic I Paid for but Didn't Attend!

The morning after hauling Eason to the clinic and having her tell she didn't want to go in the arena, I watched the groundwork class for a bit, then went to check on her and found her looking a bit peaked. She had diminished gut sounds and tension in her abdominal muscles. I did some bodywork, including visceral therapy, targeted to help her feel better, and when her gut sounds increased and she perked up I offered her the scootboots again. As I did so, I visualized walking away from the arena, towards the big field of dried weeds in the opposite direction. That time she took me up on my suggestion, and lifted her feet for the boots and put her nose willingly in the halter. 

For the next three days, I asked her every day if she wanted to go in the class. Her answer was always no. But she grew more willing to get closer to the arena and watch the proceedings. On our walks, I alternated between leading her at a distance, with her behind me as though she was on a narrow path; leading her a few feet away from me at walk and trot while matching strides; and letting her lead the way, with me back by her hip so she could pick our route. I did all work from both the left and the right side.

We also spent some time hand-grazing in a grassy spot by the arena where she could see what was happening.



The goal is to raise the horse’s stress level enough that you are pushing her out of her comfort zone, but not so much that she goes over-threshhold and into panic mode. If she can learn to self-manage before she hits panic, she’ll develop resilience and curiosity. Watching her get worried, then mindfully take a deep breath and lower her head let me know we were on the right track. If she didn’t take the steps to self-manage, I helped her by gently touching “pressure release” points, as Tristan Tucker calls them, which often brought her back to baseline. If they didn’t, or she tightened up right away, I would draw her attention to her tension, let her become aware of it and think of releasing it, and then immediately turn for home.

By the end of the clinic she was leading me further and further from the arena, down the road to a neighboring pasture, and across the road into the forest on the hill where we did a small loop. I always turned her for home before she became significantly anxious. Each outing increased her confidence and her curiosity, until by the last day, she was relaxed, curious and comfortable both in her pen and on our adventures. She no longer threw a second glance towards her amorous lover, who still professed his passion for her every time we left -- though he did gradually decide it wasn't worth fretting for the entire time she was gone, as she always returned. 🤣 And she was willing to bop noses with the terrifying cows and stand closer to the arena, watching the horses as they did their work without anxiety.
 

On my next installment, I'll finish up the series with a description of how I asked her to do something she DIDN'T want to do, and how that went. Drop a comment if you like reading about my adventures with Eason.

Animal Communication: More on Interspecies Energetic Communication

What is animal communication?

At its most basic, it can be an awareness of the body language and facial expressions of a member of another species, and the ability to communicate with one’s own body language and facial expressions in such a way as to gain and communicate a deeper understanding of each other’s needs, wants and desires.

Beyond that it can be energetic. Horses have a sublime awareness of energy. They pick up on fear, hesitation, confidence, arrogance, anger, pain, grief, compassion, the desire to help, the desire to hurt. We can’t hide from them. We need to be congruent. Once we are, we can learn from them and help them.

And beyond that, it can be what might once have been called psychic or telepathic communication. And yes, I believe in that. And, to paraphrase neurologist Dr. Stephen Peters “Woowoo is science that we haven’t yet figured out.”

 

Eason at the clinic 

A clinic I attended last week was guided by Eason. I asked her if she wanted to go. She said, “If you listen.” 

“I always try to listen,” I told her.

“Really listen,” she said.

Now, before you all think I’m nuts, I know she’s not “speaking” in English. I’ve found horses often share their experiences or needs in pictures or video-like experiences, sometimes through feelings, and sometimes in “knowings,” but also sometimes in a way that seems to come through in words, even if clearly they don’t use words. I believe in all cases they are communicating via energy and the way it’s received can depend on …. What? The receiver? The kind of energy? I’m not sure. One communicator I know says she just gets words. I believe others get images or video-like experiences. “Knowings” are particularly strange. Suddenly I just KNOW the horse feels a certain way about something.

Anyway, when I create these very-human conversations, please don’t take them literally. Eason is not literally opening her mouth and speaking words, but her energy instills the knowledge in me that she needs or wants a particular thing. For my part, I often speak words to her, sometimes out loud but often just in my head. I also create images or videos in my head as a way of projecting my thoughts and ideas to her.

The day we left for the clinic, she marched onto the trailer without hesitation, loading herself as I tossed the rope over her back. She travelled beautifully and unloaded perfectly. After I’d set up her hay and water, I took her for a walk. We ended up being in a space where we were blocked off from getting away from the cows crossing from their holding pen to the arena, and her fear of cows sent her over-threshold, something I had not planned on. She was a flying kite as we navigated away from the cows and managed to find a route back to the pens. I used Tristan Tucker’s patterns to calm her, and once she took a breath, I brought her back into her pen. Unfortunately, as soon as I left the pen she started pacing frantically, spinning around and rearing, screaming for her former herdmate Echo, and otherwise showing extreme anxiety. Since I had “told” her that we wouldn’t stay if she didn’t want to, I asked her if she wanted to leave. She indicated “No,” despite her anxiety. When I asked her if I should bring the truck back in the morning in case she wanted to return home the following day, she also said no.

Once I had settled her down for the night, I left for home. (Her “mom” Jamie was staying at the clinic in her live-in trailer, so Eason had a chaperone for the night).

For those of you who don’t know me, prepare for some interesting woo. For those who do know me, you won’t be surprised. As I was driving home, I decided to check in on Eason. There’s a psychological method called “tapping” or emotional freedom technique and I decided to try it energetically. (Now, again, there is increasing interest in “paranormal” kinds of activities as a result of quantum physics. My own physicist father (worked at CERN) believed in multiple universes and told me once that more recent research was turning everything he had believed upside down). So I checked in with Eason, did EFT with her by using my energy, and encouraged her to drink some water and eat some hay. As I was doing the energetic tapping, I felt a shift in my own tension. I took an involuntary deep breath and felt tightness in my chest drift away. While I didn’t become immediately relaxed and totally calm, I felt a definite change. Interestingly the shift in tension didn’t fully feel like “my” change. I hadn’t felt particularly anxious other than in the context of Eason’s panic at being in a new place, and the palpable drop in heart rate and respiration felt almost like someone else’s change. I also found myself yawning, which is an equine response to dropping from the sympathetic (fight or flight) nervous system into the parasympathetic (rest and digest) nervous system -- even though I wasn’t in the least bit tired.

Right after I was done, I contacted Jamie. Her response was that Eason was still worried but was eating. The following morning, on my return to the clinic, I found Eason in her pen, totally calm and relaxed. She had almost finished her overstuffed slow feed haynet, drunk water and been replenished, and was happy to greet me and get her breakfast.

When it came time to go into our class, however, her response was an emphatic NO! I entered the pen with ScootBoots and she walked away and stood in the corner. “Don’t want your hoof boots?” I asked. She looked away.

Then I tried the halter. Another emphatic no. Some people would have “caught” her at that point, but I knew what she was saying. I told her we wouldn’t go into the class if she didn’t want to, and I left to watch the first part of the clinic.

I’ll follow up with more about the clinic in another post, but I wanted to note that we know horses can communicate and are highly aware of human emotions. They can indicate blanketing preferences by touching boards with sympols on them and they are excellent at reading faces. I believe learning the language of horses should be a prerequisite for owning them, and we should learn how very subtle their communications can be. The better we get at noticing the expressions and behaviors that communicate their state of mind and preferences, the closer we can get to interspecies energetic communication.

 

This article on the connection between the Colombian "Guardians Del Mar" (Guardians of the Sea) and their community and environment is beautiful. We need more people who see those connections between what we do and how it impacts our environment, including other beings. In addition it touches on something important in my equine massage work, the potential for significant and meaningful communication between horses and their guardians.

 

One trained Guardian Del Mar, Luis Antonio “Toño” Lloreda, recounts his experience freeing a whale from an abandoned fishing net: “'To connect with the whale, I used what we call intuitive interspecies communication,' says Lloreda, explaining that this involves non-verbal, energetic communication. 'I asked the mother for permission – energetically.'”

 

A friend sent me the article, asking if this is what I do when I communicate with animals, and the answer was "Absolutely!"

 

I've just spent a weekend in Bend, Oregon, working with 11 very different horses and their wonderful guardians. Time after time, I stood with the owners while I waited for each horse to approach. The owners would tell me a little about their equine friends, and I would explain how I work with horses, and in that time, I would be sending energy to each horse, letting him or her know I'm there to help, that I will not push past boundaries, that I will ask before doing. And the horses would come up -- worried horses, anxious horses, horses coming back from injury and difficult rehabs -- and I would start my healing work.

Often the guardians wanted information on how to do what I was doing, and I would share what works for me, and I would watch in joy as owners slowed down and breathed and grounded themselves, and their horses dropped their heads and nuzzled them, or blew softly in their nostrils, or turned and requested touch in a certain area. I watched as owners held up hands to feel their horse's energy, then felt the energy soften and invite them in for touch. I watched the horses release, their eyes softening, their breath changing. "Visualize what you're planning to do," I told the owners. "Watch the horse's reaction. Is he positioning himself so you can do what you want to do? Is he blocking you? If he's blocking you, don't do it."

 

A block doesn't always mean "no." Sometimes it means "not yet." Learning the nuances of what the horse is communicating takes close observation, deep breathing, slowing waaaaaayyy down. But it's worth it. It changes the relationship profoundly.

 

In one case, I was slated to work with three horses in one larger herd. We went into the shared space. "Which horse do you want to start with?" my owner asked.

 

"Let's let the horses decide," I said. Her mare came up first, a horse I had not personally worked with before (except during a remote session where I talked my client through what to do to help her), so we started with her. Once we had finished, one of the geldings came up, so he was next (and what a transformation from last time!). And then came time for the last gelding, who had walked away as soon as he saw the halter in her hand. We walked up to him. He stood with his back to us. I waited at a small distance, breathing and grounding myself. He thought for a moment, slow blinked, then turned, came to us, and dropped his head in the halter. (Usually I work without halters, but because of the relatively small size of the space and the six horses present, it was easier to halter and move away to a different spot. I maintain my rule that the horse can always walk away if they need to, and often the lead line ends up draped over the horse's body and I don't need to use it to guide the horse at all.)

 

At another place, a mare I was working with had some profound changes in her breathing and went into deep processing after I had worked with her right fore. Then she walked away. I knew she needed visceral therapy on her ovaries and help with her TMJ, but she went into a completely different pen, rubbed her neck on the stall door, then stood with her head in the stall and her back to us. We waited for a bit, then I asked if I could start with the owner's second mare while her first horse processed. I also let her know the mare might be finished for the day, and if so, I wasn't going to push it. 

 

The second mare was ready and waiting, so I worked with her. Again, she had some profound changes, then walked away before I could work with her poll, which I knew had tension still. I moved away to chat with the owner and her friend (who was also my friend, and who had arranged the trip). As I chatted, out came the first mare and positioned herself so I could work with her ovaries, then so I could work with her head. She had swelling behind her TMJ, and her nose and eyes started running as I worked, and then she took a huge shuddering breath and blew and sneezed a few times, before smelling my friend's hat with focused intensity, huge deep breaths that pulled air deep into her diaphragm and her belly. 

 

I thanked her for the honor of being able to help her, as I always do, then moved away as the second mare returned for me to work with her head. 

 

Some horses need a long time to process. Being willing and able to provide that processing time goes a long way in establishing trust. Being willing and able to work without any restraint tells each horse you trust them, and establishes their trust in you. When horses who fear strangers walk up and greet me, I know I'm on the right track, and the track I'm on is guided by what I am now going to call "interspecies energetic communication." 

 

Next time you get an idea of what to do or where to go when you're with your beloved horse (or dog, or cat, or hamster or chicken), ask yourself if that idea came from you, or if your beloved friend is energetically communicating with you. When I was working with horses in Ireland (or riding my ponies as a young teen), often I would get an idea to do something or go somewhere -- sometimes quite unorthodox. And off I'd go, with my partners-in-crime fully invested. On retrospect, I think it was their idea!

 

Horses can tell you whether or not they want fly masks or blankets or composite shoes (apologies, Eason, for my recent deafness in listening to your needs about that). Just ask. Then listen. And then one day you'll be gone a couple of days and your horse will see you from the far end of the track and come running, yelling for you, "Where have you been?!!!!! I've missed you?!!!!!"

 

And if that's already happening, congratulations. Your horse sees (and hears) you.

 

 

When You Can't Ride

 

Years ago a little Anglo-Arab taught me that it's fun to do groundwork. He invited me to "drive" him without lines and we could walk, trot and canter, bend through poles, pop little cross-rails, halt square and back up, all as though I had physical lines on him. I loved it, but didn't appreciate the complexity and beauty of it because he made it so easy for me.

Years later I have a horse who is not rideable -- who may never be rideable.  Eason, at 17, has had maybe 45 rides in her life, most at a trainer's, because of physical challenges plus a reactive personality. My journey with her started because I was an equine bodyworker and knew she would be an amazing teacher for me. I could see the challenges she would present, and I wanted to learn. And she has fulfilled that role in so many ways. She has made it crystal clear that "no foot, no horse" is a foundational saying that can't be ignored. She'll drop her topline overnight if her feet are out of balance, which they easily become because of her hi-lo syndrome. She has confirmed how ingrained habits of posture, grazing with one leg always forward, for example, create major asymmetries that ripple through the entire body. She has shown me that horses who can graze as they should be able to, in big spaces, walking one foot, then another, then another, can start to balance out those asymmetries. But most horses don't have that opportunity these days. They stand, eating from hay racks or nets, or piles on the ground, often with their dominant leg forward and the other far back.

Eason spent two months on a farm with a huge rolling field and a pasture mate. Being able to watch her graze freely let me see how natural movement for a horse helps build their bodies effectively. Unfortunately she couldn't stay there, and her new place constrained her to a stall with a small paddock all winter. When the weather improved, we created a primitive track system with electric tape around the perimeter of the small grazing fields, and she now has access to that track during the day, which has improved her outlook. One slow-feeder hay net is hung at the far end, and another is tethered in an old water tub in her shelter. She walks back and forth between the two and can canter or briefly gallop if she wants to. Soon we'll introduce the other mare on the farm to the track, and they can be out together, which will help both of them.

Watching people ride is hard. Just a few years ago I dreamed of getting my bronze medal after the lovely Rosie danced well enough to get me my first and second level scores. I've imagined the joy of eventing again (low levels, of course).  And I've audited a couple of clinics where the pull to be back in the saddle flared hard. But I know too much now about dysfunctional bodies and how horses as prey animals hide their pain. Until Eason has a topline that will let her carry a saddle and rider, and until she says, "Hop on. Let's go," I'm not going to ride her.

And that may or may not happen. So in the meantime we rehab with groundwork and I play with teaching her all sorts of fun things. She's not my Anglo-Arab yet, in the "invisible lines" department, but she's getting the idea and seems to think it's enjoyable. I love that even with the track system being in, she comes to the stall door when she sees me and waits for me to put on the halter.

I hope you enjoy our video!

Energy and the Power of Healing

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to go on about this for a long long time 🤣♥️,” Nina texted after our experience with her beloved OTTB gelding, Val.

It started when I got a panicked phone call from her. Val was acting weird, neurologic, like he couldn’t get his head up. He was refusing to eat his grain and moving around with his nose on the ground. He always ate his grain. As we talked, she sent me two videos, one of Val outside, acting distressed. Another in the stable: Her other horse Hero eating; Val with his nose on the ground, occasionally attempting to raise his head, but always dropping it immediately, his eyes anxious.

As a bodyworker I can’t diagnose, and I hadn’t seen anything quite like this before, but my sense was something was stuck, his TMJ probably, and my gut told me releasing his fascia might bring him relief. But still, what if something was broken? What if he were neurologic and needed vet care?

As we talked through the options, we decided to try a remote session. If we didn’t see improvement she would call the vet. Circumstances were less than ideal. She had nowhere secure to prop her phone and no earbuds, so communication was a bit spotty. Hero knocked the phone down once, and some of the time I could see only part of Val. And yet…. And yet….

Nina started by approaching Val. His distress was such that he moved away immediately, nose still down, but with clear intent to stay away from touch. “Let’s use energy,” I suggested, and gave Nina a few suggestions to help ground her. We’ve worked together many times, so soon she was more settled and able to send quiet Reiki energy in Val’s direction. I directed her to the poll area, not touching, but teloi to the spot where she could “feel” his energy. When I asked could she feel it, she said yes. Then she moved carefully down the line. Sometimes he moved away. Sometimes he stood stock still, looking deeply inwards. She followed his lead. Gave him space if he needed it, then asked again. Waited as he processed. Let the little releases have their moment. After a bit, he started nibbling the hay on the floor. Occasionally he would lift his head a little, then drop it again, but his eyes were less distressed. Soon she was able to move her hands with a light touch to his SI area, to hold and wait there as he grew thoughtful. He was now in a space where I couldn’t see either of them well, but she knew what to do and she finished out the line. At some point Val turned towards the camera, lifting his head part way and holding it there. Nina said something about going down the hind leg and I responded, and just as I started to speak, Val fully lifted his head, walked straight towards the camera with his ears and eyes on me, and then went to his grain bucket.

Oh my heart. 🥹

The image below is a screenshot of the videos Nina sent initially, plus a little of the ensuing text conversation.

Fascia is astounding. It’s a 3D matrix interwoven all throughout the body, a vehicle for communication between the brain and everything else, a structure that stores memory and emotion. It’s viscous and osseous. It can change form with the lightest touch. Intentional, mindful gentle communication with it ripples through the body. Recently I worked on the tail of a horse who could only chew on one side. As I worked with her tail, she started chewing bilaterally again.

Horses have huge energy fields. If you tune in, you can feel it – prickles in the hand or fingers, heat, a sense of springy pushback against your own energy, then a melding. It’s strange, feels impossible, and yet in physics energy and matter are equivalent. I’ve seen horses physically change from work done at a distance. I’ve seen them tune into each other’s bodywork sessions, and benefit, the muscles softening, the stride lengthening. I have pictures of Sadonis taken 20 minutes apart, his body looking completely different in response to a session that was mostly energy.

 

Val’s beautiful response to Nina’s gentle energy, his ability to tune in and let go of the tension in his fascia, then his willingness to invite her in to touch the fascial line (which really is touching the entire fascial matrix, because it’s all connected) is a testament to the incredible power of horses’ connection to the non-physical, something so many of us struggle to recognize.

I am grateful in all ways for horses who teach me, for owners who trust me with their beloved friends, and for the power of healing.

Equine leg position and body asymmetry

Have you ever watched your horse eat? If your horse eats from a pile of hay, have you ever looked to see which leg is forward during meals? Is it always the same one?

And why does that matter?

Remember the pictures of Eason on my last post? If you look carefully at each picture, you’ll see she always had her right leg forward. Why does that matter?

Because she never has her right leg forward.

OK, she does now, sometimes.

How did that happen?

Gentle suggestions from me during bodywork and groundwork, and scent exploration and getting to "graze."

Very few horses spend time grazing these days. So many live in small runs with shelters, or even in enclosed stalls with little turnout. Wild horses would spend 10-17 hours a day grazing, one foot forward, then the next, then the next, always moving. Many large farms are implementing track systems where the food is spread out and horses have to walk to get to it as a way of recreating a more natural feeding environment. We can’t all do that, but we can help horses rethink their posture and way of standing with bodywork, scentwork and the right kind of groundwork. In the video below, you’ll see Eason moving around after her scent exploration adventure. She’s relaxed and snacking on the weeds that are breaking through in the round pen. She alternates feet, and spends quite a bit of time with her right foot forward, something she didn’t do when she first got to Shadow Rose Farm, even when grazing. She would take two steps to line up with her left foot forward.

After I’ve finished playing with her in the morning, I put her out in a dry lot pasture for a few hours and I scatter a couple of flakes of hay all over the pasture for her so she can “graze.” As in the round pen, she alternates legs.

At night feed and breakfast, she now will sometimes stand with her right foot forward at her slow hay feeder, but mostly she still picks the left foot. I’ll be watching to see if she alternates more frequently as we continue on this journey.

Which leg does your horse lead with when eating, and what do you do to encourage more symmetrical posture?

I like to sleep on my stomach sometimes, but maybe 10 years ago I realized I always slept with my head turned to the right. When I tried to turn it to the left, I couldn’t. I was locked into an asymmetrical stiffness that felt permanent. I’m pretty stubborn, so I decided to fix it. First, I made a concerted effort to do things right-handed (seeing as I’m left-handed). I mucked stalls, shoveled snow, swept, ran the vacuum cleaner, switched my mouse on my computer, changed hands to brush my teeth. I was terrible at it and had no muscle tone, but week after week, month after month, I got more coordinated and stronger.

I also started turning my head to the left when I lay on my stomach. I could tolerate only a few seconds at first. Then a few minutes, then finally long enough to fall asleep in that position. Now either side is comfortable.

I also did Pilates and took my daughter’s yoga classes.

I’m still crooked, but a lot less crooked than I used to be. Injuries from multiple surgeries on my left side have made my left shoulder problematic. Back in the day (1999) they didn’t prescribe physical therapy or massage after mastectomies. They provided a leaflet with a few exercises, which I did diligently, and let you go on your merry way. And so here I am, 24 years later, with pectoral muscles that hold a grudge and the resulting deep-seated compensations. It’s OK, though, because I can help myself, now, with what I’ve learned from equine massage.

What has that to do with Eason’s right leg being forward in my last posting?

Horses are like people. They are “handed,” in a sense, asymmetrical like us. And if we don’t help them release those asymmetries, they harden over time.

Humbled by Hero

I am humbled every day by the energy and understanding of horses. I just finished off a weekend of equine bodywork, and it was phenomenal. I worked with three lovely horses in Benton City, and then drove to my friend Nina's place. Nina is the owner of Val, the horse who started me on my exploration of scentwork with horses, and a new equine friend, Hero, an enormous senior former jumping schoolmaster. Hero had been getting harder and harder for the farrier to trim until at his most recent appointment he could not lift his left hind leg at all, even under sedation. Nina was hoping to help both him and Val become more comfortable.
 

Hero caught my heart immediately. He was big, black and stunning, but his eyes told a story of worry and pain. The before and after picture shows a moment in time (or two moments in time), and it’s one reason I sometimes hesitate to share pictures. After all, a horse might move and present a totally different picture just a second after taking the first picture. But if a series of pictures would show basically the same posture, the same habitual ways of standing, then it’s more than a moment in time. And in this case, beautiful Hero tended to stand like a goat on a rock. He also had a reflexive hind end reaction that looked somewhat like shivers. It involved him raising and kicking out his hind legs, with the left more forcefully.

I worked with him lightly and carefully, releasing his ventral and dorsal lines and gently softening his rock hard glutes and hamstrings. I made sure to let him know I would never go past the threshold of what he could endure, and he spent a lot of time processing, his eyes finally releasing a little of their worry. Towards the end, he was able to release his left hind and stand for a little while with it cocked, but he wasn't ready for me to pick up either of his hind legs, so we left it for the day. We decided it would be worth trialing both him and Val with some Equiox before working with them again in the morning.

On day two, we headed out to the barn again to see how far we could get with them. "Oh, they're leaving," Nina said, as both horses headed out the door into the pasture when we entered the barn. I think they wanted to show us how good they felt, as the next 10 or so minutes were a show of speed and dexterity as they galloped and bucked and kicked up their heels. After a bit, I walked down to the bottom of the field and stood, and after a little happy, fancy snorting, both horses trotted up to me to exchange breath and touch. They followed me up to the barn, then took off again when my dog Dandy, who was across the fence, startled them.

Here's where magic happened. If Hero had indicated he didn't want help, I would not have forced it. I wanted him to have the right to say he wasn't ready for more yet after his challenging session the day before. We can mechanically soften the muscles, but if the horse is not receptive in heart and mind, nothing will stick.

When the horses came back up, I walked out with the halter. Hero thought about leaving, and I backed up and waited. He came my way and stood. I held out the halter and he turned his head away. Again I waited. Finally he turned his head and dropped it into the halter. He softly followed me into the barn aisle, where he stood for me to work with him again. Again I released the fascial lines, and I was able to get more deeply into the glutes and hamstrings without his leg reacting as much (or as violently). He was able to let me pick up his right hind, at first with a typical shivers reaction (reminding me so much of my beloved Sadonis), and later fairly softly and easily, but still the left hind was a no-no area. I could touch it, could release the fascia, could massage it up and down, but the moment I approached it he planted it and cocked the right hind and I knew he wasn’t able to lift it for me yet.

I told Nina I thought we needed to be done, even if we hadn’t accomplished what we wanted. I was afraid we would lose everything we had gained if we pushed it because the moment I even thought about asking him to lift his left leg, his eyes grew dark and his body tightened. Nina was concerned, rightfully enough, that if he can’t be trimmed in two weeks it will cause more damage to his posture, so she took a moment to see if he might trust her enough to lift his leg for her. But the moment she moved towards his hind end with the intent to ask him to lift his left leg, he shifted his weight onto it and hooded his eyes. His mouth, which has finally begun to relax, tightened again.

And Nina, being Nina, knew what he was telling her. She backed off, telling him she wasn’t going to ask him to lift that leg. The next moment was magical: In a way we both immediately recognized (it wasn’t the first time that weekend he had communicated very clearly what worked for him and what didn’t) he gave a huge sigh, then very deliberately widened his base in front and cocked the left leg.

And he stood like that for at least 15 minutes, in deep, deep processing, holding a stance he had been unable to hold for weeks, maybe even months. We stood there until he was ready to move, in a space that felt sacred.

It was fascinating that Val was in the stable where he could see and participate. If Hero was anxious, Val was beside himself, but as Hero calmed, so did Val, and time and time again I heard Val take huge, shuddering breaths as Hero settled and was able to let go of his tension. He also gave a series of yawns and neck stretches. And then he coughed.

“Uh-oh,” Nina said. But I remembered a post by Tami Elkayam saying that as horses release their diaphragm they will cough, and given his deep breaths, the way he had been moving right before the cough, and his yawning, I think perhaps he was releasing his own diaphragm. I asked Nina to pay attention to whether he coughed any more or had any signs of illness. Since he is fine, I figure he was probably doing his own bodywork as I was helping Hero.

Both horses are happier in their own bodies. Since we trialed Equiox, the changes could be due to the drug, but I’ve not seen horses play the way the horses played just because they got Equiox, so I think it’s deeper than that. Nina’s working with their legs daily and we’ll see if Hero can maintain enough flexibility that he can get trimmed at the next appointment.

Why BEE?: How I Started Balanced Equine Energy, and the Reason for the Name

 

Five years ago I would not have dreamed I'd end up being an equine bodyworker, but until recently I didn't know it was a career option.

I got started by watching a friend work what appeared to be magic on horses. "That's magic," I would exclaim, and she would respond, "Nope, it's science." She shared some of her techniques with me to help Rosie, a big American warmblood I had the privilege of riding (Rosie got me my first- and second-level dressage scores -- a minor miracle for someone who who chased eventing dreams as a youngster and saw dressage as something I had to do to get to the really important stuff). 

I watched in awe as Rosie's muscles changed, and her posture too. Her lower neck relaxed and dropped, and her pelvis angles grew more correct. At the time I was also using Tristan Tucker's TRT Method, and his groundwork exercises combined with bodywork strokes made a big difference to her, widening her base-narrow stance and helping her move more fluidly.

By then friends were asking me to share the TRT movements and bodywork I was doing as they saw how well it was working. I also had the wonderful opportunity to start a German riding pony cross. She had tension in her hind end and struggled to canter without going disunited. I had been doing basic handling of her since she was a yearling, teaching her to be caught, to pick up her feet for the farrier, and to stand for grooming. The opportunity to start her at three and ride her for the next two years helped me recognize the value of using a combination of bodywork and groundwork to help horses learn to move more effectively. I used TRT's horse-starting method to back her and put about nine rides on her when she was late in her 3-year-old year (Check out this image for why I took her so slowly. Also, check out this video for a fun "Spooky Horse Challenge" I did for TRT. She was turned out for the winter right after.)

In her 4-year-old year I continued with a TRT approach, adding to my growing repertoire of bodywork moves at the same time, thanks to my studies. We had to negotiate a dental trauma (wolf tooth removal process gone wrong plus late loss of deciduous teeth) plus saddle fit issues, but when Lily turned five I started her over fences at liberty and on the lunge, followed by a successful baby jumping clinic. When she was sent off to be sold, I was proud of the little horse she was becoming. (I'll post a blog post dedicated to her soon!)

I didn't officially start my studies till I met the beautiful and challenging Sadonis and decided I needed to do whatever I could to help him. I'll share his story in a separate post, but he was my inspiration and my mentor and, despite the fact he is no longer with us, his spirit informs everything I do. 

So why the word balance in my business name?

Because we need balance in everything we do. Horses need to be balanced to move well, and riders need to be balanced when on them or when working on the ground with them. Balance is physical, but it's also emotional and intellectual. We need a balance of tools so we can approach each horse as the individual he or she is. I like to balance bodywork with groundwork, to balance affirmative training (clicker or target training) with affirmative training that comes from the horse feeling what Tristan says is the "good feeling" in his own body. I like the new research on scentwork with horses, and how it can help them relax and rebalance their nervous systems.

Why energy? 

Because everything is energy. We use our energy every time we approach our horses, and they read that energy way better than most of us humans do. Because horses can feel that energy and use it to help release their own muscles and fascia. Because that energy can be directed deep into the center of the horse and help with fascial restrictions that limit movement and restrict healing. Because if we can learn to control our own energy -- emotional as well as physical -- we can deepen and enrich our relationship with our horses.

Light and Energy

 

The second lesson from Eason wasn't a new lesson at all, but a confirmation of what I had done for years. Thanks to Wendee Walker I had a name for it: Reiki energy.

 

We were in the round pen, and she was anxious. The gardeners were pruning the bushes and dumping the prunings on a long-bed open trailer. To make more room for new prunings, they were climbing on the trailer and bounding up and down, half hidden by bushes, but loud and flashy. Eason was concerned and had left her scent exploration tarp to stare fixedly in the direction of the half-hidden trailer. I stood at the far end of the round pen and consciously breathed deeply into the depths of my center. I imagined that breath as calming energy, centered like a ball within me, growing and growing. As I breathed out, I imagined my light-filled energy surrounding Eason and calming her.

 

And Eason took a breath, walked back to stand beside me for a moment, and then went to the tarp and started exploring.

 

I've never been known as a patient person. My daughter's father always said, "Patience is not in the Irish dictionary." But I've always been patient with horses, and that patience has paid off. I watch. I listen. And I breathe. Horses like that. Before I learned about Reiki, I knew that my energy could sometimes calm horses, could help them relieve tension, but I didn't know how it was happening, or why. Now I know. Thank you, Wendee!

 

The pictures are from Eason wandering about grazing on the weeds afterwards, and I'll be sharing video of what I observed in that moment in my next post. I challenge you to notice what you see from those images. What stands out? Can you see what I see?

 

 

Scent Exploration vs. Scent Tracking (Response to Wendee re Scentwork)

 

I've not started the actual tracking, although I did order the scentbag and it's ready for use. From my reading, size of property isn't a huge deal (to begin with, anyway,) because you start with laying really short "trails," 30cms on the first one, for example. You can bury the bag in arena sand, so for the first trails I plan to use the arena. You start with straight lines, then add curves as you add distance.

 

Horses take a longer time to switch from visual tracking to scent than dogs, so I think you have to spend the time to help them with that. My sense is that the scent exploration work I do on the tarps to start with helps them switch. At first horses don't know they can find treats inside things. They will seek out the visual treats. Once they switch to using their noses, they will knock over cones, open bags, shake water bottles to dump out pellets. It allows them to control the environment, problem solve, and have fun.

With Lily, I would take her out on little trails and let her lead the way. I have a "your turn/my turn" signal, and with Lily (who is naturally cautious), it helped her a lot with learning to be curious and brave.

 

Eason has a lot of levels of anxiety, so we are doing tarp exploration at the edge of orange zones right now. She's ready to move into a new spot, one that was a definite red zone before.

 

If you're interested, here's a video of a sequence I did to get her more comfortable with being in new places with a lot of activity going on. The arena and round pen were red zones for her when she first got to the farm. The pasture was a green zone, which is why I started there. I then moved to the part of the arena that was closer to the barn (edge of orange zone), and then moved up to the scarier parts (used to be red zone). When we got access to the round pen (red zone), it had become an orange zone and she was able to relax there, so the clip is a few days ago. I've had her just over two weeks, so the change has happened in the space of two weeks. 

 

The scent exploration has made a huge difference to Eason's levels of anxiety and I plan to start tracking with her for fun, but I don't have any practical experience with it yet.

https://youtu.be/nNIB8bcTv_4

Breathe. Wait. Observe: The Value of Patience

 

1. Breathe. Wait. Observe.

I went to get her from her pen and when she saw me she walked away from me. Usually horses wait for me, or if they're at a distance, they head my way. When Sadonis was feeling good, he used to spin and gallop to me (unless it was hot and he was feeling lazy or he was in pain, and then he trotted or walked). Yet there was Eason, heading for the far end of the pen. I felt that nerve-jangling sense of rejection, a momentary sadness. And then I breathed. And I waited. And I watched her stand in her bathroom area and relieve herself.

She's a tidy mare. She has declared the far end of her pen the bathroom. It's as far away from her food (and the gate to the run in) as she can make it. No pooping or peeing on hay for this girl.

When she was done, she headed my way and dropped her head so I could put the head collar on.

There was a time I would have headed after her, irritated that she was making me "chase" her. Now I wait. I've spent years deliberately observing rather than assuming, and every time I take the time to watch, I've learned.

Grateful for the powers of observation.

2..... to be continued.

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