by Kimberly Highland | Oct 6, 2017 | Applied Principles
According to Chief, the entire fiasco started the day before when Flat Stanley swore an oath of revenge against Chief just because he accidentally ripped Flat Stanley’s arm off. Chief claims he’d only meant to nibble some affection on Flat Stanley; he’d had never met a boy made of paper before.
The morning started just as every morning of our nearly 2,000-mile drive from South Dakota to the Deep South. I led one pony into the trailer (ensuring no mountain lions had smuggled themselves into the stalls) while Scott stands with the other outside. The morning of concern was Chief’s turn to go first, while Rusty the True waited patiently outside.
Once I fastened Chief’s lamb’s-wool halter (safeguarding against abrasions and split ends) to the trailer sidewall, I turned about face—addling my way toward Rusty the True.
SNAP! WOOSH! BLUR!
That’s all she wrote. Chief left me in the dust of pine shavings and poo, flicking his tail at Scott and Rusty as he bee-lined for six lanes of traffic. I flailed about like Henny Penny with her comb on fire for a second or two and then made haste with my wattle to the wind, chasing Chief in near hysteria. Scott stood stock still next to Rusty watching the terror unfold, like the Tin Man waiting for his new-found heart to stop hammering in his bolted-down chest. Rusty and Flat Stanley stood quietly.
Fortunately, there was a 25-foot swath of lush green grass between the Wally-World parking lot where we’d nighted and the morning-traffic-mottled freeway. Still, if I got within 12 feet of Chief, he’d turn his ample rear to me and dash toward a 12-car-pile-up-in-the-making. Several times he hoofed along the pavement. His message couldn’t have been clearer if he held a knife to his throat and shouted to me, “Don’t make me do it. I’m serious; I’ll do it, and it’ll be all your fault.”
Finally, my brain caught up with my burning comb and waving wattle, and I remembered The Principles. When inviting another to connect, ignore=increase pressure, resist=maintain pressure, cooperate=release pressure. Chief was definitely resisting, and I’d been increasing pressure. A sure-fire recipe for an explosion. These are the fundamental principles for all relationships, and the foundation of our Faith, Hope, and Love trauma-informed care, learned and honed through Make Way Partners relationship with Natural Lifemanship.
As soon as I dropped my shoulders and took a deep breath, the flame blew out of my comb and my wattle stopped quivering. Chief immediately raised his head from the grass and set his bead dead on me. I moved too fast, and he decided I wasn’t serious about connecting, but rather had ulterior motives. Chief was off again. Hoofing the pavement, testing my calmness.
By this time a RV-ing couple, pulled to the side of the road, offering assistance to trap the poor beast. A stray bicycler kicked in a similar offer. I firmly asked them to stay far away from my thunder-cloud of a horse, and focus their attention on warning oncoming drivers of the danger.
With a prayer of surrender, I applied a fraction of pressure on Chief by focusing my eyes and energy from my core onto his backside. Without the slightest hesitation, Chief turned gracefully toward me. I took a small step backward, releasing pressure, and he took a larger step toward me. We repeated this five or six steps, until Chief caught me.
For the record, Flat Stanley flatly denies ever having made a threat against Chief. “Besides” Flat Stanley crooned, “My arm is too sore from all the stitches Kimberly threaded into me to get my arm back on to have flapped around and spooked that big oaf of a horse.” I sensed a bit of resentment with the name calling.
Chief maintains that Flat Stanley did, in fact, spook him as soon as I turned my back in the trailer, otherwise—he claims—he never would have startled and run.
Rusty the True, being the consummate Peace Maker of the Traveling Trio, settled the matter by reminding us all that placing blame or nailing down causation is—at best—unproductive. Instead, Rusty pointed out that we should simply “Apply Grace and Allow Do-Overs.”
Love, your sister along the journey, +k
by Bettina Shultz-Jobe, LPC, NBCC | Aug 7, 2017 | Applied Principles, Basics of Natural Lifemanship
Today is August 7th. August 7th, 2010, Tim and I were married. We had a sunrise wedding at the family ranch in the Texas Panhandle. It was outside on a plateau, overlooking a beautiful canyon, so sunrise was about the only time of day we could lessen the chances of enduring the kinds of winds that blow houses over the rainbow!
We did our first dance horseback to the song “I Run to You” by Lady Antebellum, and I almost fell from Zeus, my trusted steed! We shared a communion of coffee and homemade biscuits with friends and family during the ceremony. We then had tequila sunrises and a delicious chuck wagon breakfast, prepared by a dear friend. The day was perfect!
It is practically impossible to think about our wedding and engagement, without thinking about our business, our first “baby.” The weeks prior to our wedding we built a website, with the help of my brother in law, and started a business. We simply can’t separate ourselves or our relationship from Natural Lifemanship and the idealized belief system at its foundations.
A few years ago, Tim and I wrote the statement you will read below. Natural Lifemanship has grown well beyond the two of us, but these beliefs are the hands that continue to hold us personally and professionally. They are still the touchstone of Natural Lifemanship’s principle-based and process-oriented model of therapy.
We are terribly imperfect at practicing what we believe and what we teach. Tim and I are quite complicated human beings, with all kinds of baggage, and a fly on the wall would attest to how inadequate our best is in the hardest of times. Actually, our closest family and friends can attest to this wholeheartedly, I’m sure.
We are so very different from each other, and there is a rub that doesn’t work each and every moment but does seem to work out most days. So much has changed for us in the last 7 years, but what we believe has not, and our daily choice to try our darndest to care more about relationships than anything else remains.
The statement below is what our certification students agree to before they complete certification in Natural Lifemanship. Today, Tim and I reflect on how these beliefs have affected our relationship, our mission, and our passion, and feel blessed to be part of a community that chooses to attest to such a statement. . . and humbled by the many people whose work and heart have contributed to our mission. . . and by each moment’s grace to change, grow, and, above all, connect.
NL Ethics and Beliefs Statement:
As a person certified in Natural Lifemanship I attest to the following: I believe the most important thing in life is connected, attuned relationships with self and others (including relationship with animals, my Creator as I understand him or her, nature, the universe, etc.) All of life’s healing happens in the context of attuned relationships based on trust, mutual respect, appropriate intimacy, and partnership. I believe strength is found in vulnerability, and that conflict in relationships can be opportunities for growth that can strengthen the relationship. Therefore, regardless of the task or activity, a connected relationship with self and others is always the goal.
I believe that a partnership can happen when each party seeks to control themselves only, and true partnership happens when each party appropriately controls themselves for the good of the relationship. I believe that if it’s not good for both, it’s eventually not good for either and that a one-sided relationship is damaging to both parties.
Regardless of what is going on around me, it is possible to control what is happening inside of me. Relationship with others, quite simply, flows out of the relationship with self (what we sometimes call regulation or my way of being in the world). Therefore, WHO I am is more important than WHAT I do. I realize that I can’t teach someone to do something I can’t do. Likewise, I can’t teach someone to live a life that I don’t live. As a result, personal growth becomes the foundation for ethical therapy. The most important thing is to do my best to do what is right for my client. I understand that what is best may not be what is easiest. In order to do what is right for my clients, I have to know myself – my biases, my blindspots, and at the moment, I have to be connected with my own reactions and impulses so I can filter them. Only then can I do what is actually, truly best for my client. The team approach in NL affords me the opportunity to model a relationship where the NL principles play out and provide a space for the therapy team to notice and discuss biases and blind spots. It is, therefore, my ethical obligation to foster a healthy relationship with my therapy partner. Clinical consultation is a regular part of ethical practice, especially if I am working alone in therapy sessions.
I believe animals are sentient beings, who have relational and thinking capabilities, and can be capable of partnership if given the chance to develop. I believe that a good principle is a good principle regardless of where it is applied. Therefore, all NL principles apply equally to relationship with self and others. The relationship between horse and human is a real relationship in which relational patterns emerge, just like in any other relationship.
When NL certified, I become part of a community of individuals who are deeply committed to connecting with self, connection with others, and who strive for connected relationships the way it was intended. As such, this community of practitioners strives to foster relationships that bring about healing for self, others, and the animal partners with which we work.
by Rebecca Hubbard | May 12, 2016 | Applied Principles
Rhonda Smith is the CEO and founder of Spirit Reins, a non-profit that provides treatment to children and families who have experienced traumatic events. She interviewed Buck, the main character in the book, The Gift, at his home pasture for Spirit Reins’ Amplify Spirit Reins campaign for Amplify Austin. Alicia Nance is Buck’s friend and lends a hand as a translator.
Rhonda: Buck, thank you for joining us via satellite for Amplify Spirit Reins. The weather looks gorgeous up there in North Carolina.
Buck: You are welcome Rhonda. I’m happy to do it and glad to help out a friend of Pip’s. The sun is shining today. It is very, very warm here. I like to stand down by the lake where the wind is a little cooler.
Rhonda: It is warm here as well. What do you think of the story that The Gift tells?
Buck: I think it is an important story that helps folks understand that just because they think something is one way doesn’t mean it is. All that time Pip thought I was a mean ol’ guy, and I’m not. I think that having friends and knowing how to make them is important. The part that I think is the most important for horses is we don’t like to be alone. We want to be with our herd—that’s where we feel the safest.
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by Rebecca Hubbard | Feb 5, 2016 | Applied Principles
An Excerpt from The Gift
All that exploring made me hungry, so I gathered the tender grass into my mouth. The blades were sweet, and the sun was warm on my back. Maybe my friends would come later in the same trailer that had brought me. The pasture was big enough for all of us, and we would romp and play new games.
Then a high-pitched noise cut across the peaceful pasture. A tall, skinny girl with a black mane was standing on the fence. She was hollering and making such a ruckus I couldn’t enjoy that sweet, tender grass. So I walked down the hill to a quiet spot. But the girl kept yelling in that awful high voice. She made so much noise that I moved even further away. Only after she left could I munch in peace.
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