Now that the gnats, the heat and the humidity have kicked in around here, Silk likes to spend her afternoons standing in front of the fan in her daughter’s stall. Normally, when I appear with the green dinner buckets, she quickly ducks back over to her side of the barn to wait eagerly for the grain sprinkled with a chopped up carrot. So I was concerned that Silk might be sick a few nights ago when she flatly refused to move even as I shook the bucket and cajoled her to go back where she belonged.
I was
frustrated at first. I tried to get behind her and push her butt to encourage her to move. She just looked over her
shoulder and gave me a look like “Really? You’ve got to be kidding.” Determined
to have my own way, I grabbed a halter and lead rope, put them on her and led
Silk back to her stall. She followed me
willingly, but after she ate, she stood there sadly and swished her tail and
shook her head as the tiny no-see-ums nibbled her ears. I realized that my horse just didn’t
understand why I forced her to leave the cool air stirred by the fan to return
to the land of gnats where no breeze was blowing, It occurred to me that it
didn’t really matter if she stayed in her stall. I was only insisting on it
because it was my idea and I wanted her to be obedient. She could go back and
stand in front of the fan all night if that made her feel better. So, I opened the door and let the horses
choose where they wanted to sleep that sticky, hot night. And I asked myself, how often do I do things just because I want
my own way and don’t want anyone else to get the upper hand?
Walking
back to the house, I considered how much more insistent people have become about getting
their own way. There’s been a cultural shift over the years since I was a kid that “giving in”
implies weakness. Entitlement is no longer a dirty word. Not being “stepped on” often takes priority
over consideration.
It
made me think about something that Mark Rashid, one of my favorite horse
trainers, recently wrote about his efforts to communicate with horses on a
level that is as subtle as they communicate with each other/ A communication so almost
invisible that most people do not even see it.
He thinks that “to change the outside, you must change the inside
first”. “We are taught to watch or feel for
external changes in the horses we work with, but pay little attention to the
internal changes. Even when we do look for internal changes in the horse, we
often are paying little attention to what is going on inside of us.” Rashid
wrote, “One of the things I also noticed as my own internal awareness began to
improve is that my ability to see and feel internal changes in horses has not
only improved, but it has gotten more accurate as well. Whereas in the past I
might have had to wait for some tiny external change to occur before I would
pick up on what the horse might be thinking or feeling, now I could sort of
“feel” what was going to happen before the external change in the horse would
actually show up.”
It’s
no wonder that most of us aren’t able to easily attain that level of awareness with our animals or with other humans.
We are often so intent on getting our own way that we miss much of what is
actually going on around us. If we lose that relentless, often unconscious but controlling
urge that rises up on the inside of ourselves, imagine how much easier it would be to deal
with everyone else on the outside.
3 comments:
I'll "roger" that.
I agree.
Lori and Arlene - We are always in sync. Thanks!
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