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We Found a Better Way— And Are Making the Path Accessible to All

We Found a Better Way— And Are Making the Path Accessible to All

The recent global pandemic forced us to. . .

 

Pause.

 

Reflect.  Connect.  Cry a little (or a lot depending on the day!).  Curse a bit (okay, so maybe a lot some days!).

 

Pause and reflect and connect some more. . .

 

Then evolve.

 

Okay, so I can only speak for myself when I say that the Pandemic resulted in a decent amount of “curse crying” – a coping mechanism I don’t necessarily recommend, professionally speaking, but do, personally, find quite effective at times.  Truly though, this transformation was at times painful for the entire NL team.  Even though the caterpillar’s story of transformation and loss was already near and dear to my heart, I now have a more embodied understanding of the plight of the butterfly.

 

All of this said, the pause, the reflection, the connection (and the blood, sweat, and tears. . . AND cursing!) allowed us to soar to new heights—and inspired us to adapt our teachings, trainings, and events to allow for transformative change in the larger Equine Assisted Services (EAS) community.

 

At Natural Lifemanship, we are designing a better way to equip students with the knowledge, skills, and experiences necessary for deep healing—allowing for greater access that meets each student where they are.  

 

Looking back…

We were, and are proud of the progress we have helped to make in the field of Equine Assisted Services (EAS). In finding unique and powerful ways of working with clients and horses based on principles of connection and healthy relating, over ten years ago my husband, Tim Jobe, and I chose to begin equipping other professionals to expand the reach of EAS’s potential for healing.

 

The world could benefit from more practitioners in the field—we recognized this.  

 

After 10 years of guided in-person trainings, we faced an unforeseeable obstacle. A global pandemic. With just days notice, people throughout the world found themselves indoors, and travel and in-person meetings came to an abrupt end.  As the need for support, healing, growth, and wellness grew, so too did the possibility our doors would remain closed for good. (Hence the aforementioned tears and cursing!)

 

This was not an option for us!  

 

Our little field offers some of the safest and most effective trauma treatment available.  Period.  People needed competent, connected, and impassioned practitioners more than ever.  

MORE THAN EVER.

And mental health professionals, equine professionals, and others in the healing professions needed more support than ever!

MORE THAN EVER!

 

Moving forward…

After reflecting on the needs of our clients and students, we chose to make our trainings accessible from home. We redesigned our popular *TF-EAP and **TI-EAL based Fundamentals training to be taken virtually, but with a personalized experience that provided guided feedback, one-on-one meetings, and experiential learning. All of which could be completed from home.

 

To our delightwe found that we were able to provide more content, more resources, and more guidance than ever before. The results showed that many of our students not only thrived, but preferred the virtual fundamentals over our previous in-person training.

 

In 2020 we also started a scholarship fund and in 2021 we have awarded over $16,000 in scholarships and hope to award more as the year progresses!  We are seriously committed to making our trainings as accessible as possible!

*Trauma Focused Equine Assisted Psychotherapy

**Trauma Informed Equine Assisted Learning

 

Our New & Better Normal

Our greatest challenge in redesigning our trainings was the recognition that we needed to provide various options for the unique needs of our students. We believed that a temporary solution, such as a few online courses, would not provide students with the in-depth education they needed and deserved.

 

If we were to ensure that our students were fully prepared to work with clients in an EAS setting, we needed to think big—and we did.

 

Our team came together and designed the most extensive EAS (Equine Assisted Services) training available, with the option of FULLY completing the program from home.

 

Fundamentals of Natural Lifemanship—Redesigned

Prior to Covid, our Fundamentals of NL training was impactful in that it allowed our students to gain the foundational knowledge and skills needed to engage in the EAP/L process—using the principles of Natural Lifemanship.  Actually, I know I’m biased, but our pre-pandemic trainings were excellent!

 

It’s just that post-pandemic they’re EVEN BETTER!

 

Today, the Fundamentals of NL training is so much more extensive. We’ve created an 8-week curriculum that dives much deeper into the science of trauma, attachment, and somatics, and provides an immense amount of content that simply can’t be covered, digested, and embodied during a two or three day in-person training.  

 

Nowadays, IF you choose to do in-person training with us (more on this below) you get significantly more time doing the stuff that simply can’t be done online – building nuanced relationship with horses.  More time online means more time to experience the power of the horse-human relationship.  More time online means that when you come to us you are WAY better prepared to get busy and do some experiencing!

 

What’s more? Even online we are still able to give individualized guidance and experiential learning exercises that we review for feedback. Students benefit from taking the training in group settings, and interacting with one another—as well as the convenience of working from home with their own horses.

 

Given that each student has a unique set of circumstances, we provide the following training paths:

 

The Foundational Fundamentals is a comprehensive introduction to NL for those who may not have access to horses, will not be pursuing certification, or prefer to complete their experiential work in-person by adding on the Fundamentals Practicum, which is our in-person training experience. This is a great option for those who are completely new to Natural Lifemanship or need a refresher.

 

The Core Fundamentals is designed for people who have access to horses and who want to be able to say they are NL Level 1 trained. In taking this training, students move closer to completing NL certification.

 

Our Certification Jumpstart option allows students to jumpstart the certification process. Not only does this training count toward some of the certification requirements, it also comes with a bundle deal including a one-year NL professional membership, certification enrollment fee, two personal face-to-face consultations on Zoom––all of which are required for certification. This is the greatest bang for the buck if you know you want to get certified in NL.

 

What about the hands-on experience?

We fully understand the importance of providing an experiential component to our trainings. After all, what good is a practitioner who has yet to practice? We knew it would be a challenge to create a hands-on learning experience that could be completed from home. . . so we came up with the following solutions—and we couldn’t be happier.

 

Here are the THREE ways to complete the experiential work required for those seeking certification or wishing to claim that they are NL Level 1 trained. They are. . .

 

The At Home Experience in which students complete several video assignments and receive feedback and guidance from NL trainers. This experience does require that students have access to a horse.  

The In-Person Experience in which students attend one of many in-person practicums throughout the United States and practice their skills and knowledge with in-the-moment guided feedback from our experienced and intuitive NL trainers. (Students must attend the Fundamentals of NL prior to attending)

Or you can do a combination of the two—for those who really want to dive deep and get all of the experience possible.

 

Our In-Person Practicum

We understand that many people in our field prefer an intimate and interactive in-person training environment so we designed the Fundamentals Practicum to be an unforgettable training experience that allows students to build on their virtual learning experience through hands-on work utilizing the Natural Lifemanship principles.  Most of the didactic learning is done online in the Fundamentals of NL leaving significantly more time and space to truly embody the knowledge and skills gained.

 

We are currently offering several Fundamentals Practicums throughout the year that are hosted at our partner sites scattered throughout the country, making this experience more accessible for everyone.

 

By the way, in 2021 we adopted the same training structure for our NL Intensive training making it possible to get fully certified in NL from home!  The NL Intensive is virtual.  There are two options to meet your needs:  Foundational Intensive and Core Intensive.  The experiential portion of the Intensive training can be done at home or in-person at an Intensive Practicum.  

 

At Natural Lifemanship, we believe that leading means innovating, inspiring, adapting, and evolving—to meet the needs of our compassionate and impactful students as well as our communities, who are in need of deep healing.

 

While our trainings have evolved to better meet your needs, our principles remain the same. Every training experience through Natural Lifemanship continues to be centered around building healthy relationships and deep connections, based on mutual trust and respect—for EAS practitioners, clients, and horses.

 

Learn more by watching our latest webinar, “Our New and Better Normal.”

 

 

Learn more about the Natural Lifemanship way…   

 

#1  Take some of our courses.  We offer many low cost, single purchase courses and videos for those just wanting to get an idea of what’s out there.  Many of our courses offer CE credits through NBCC and NAADAC.  Many courses are also part of NL Membership or can be purchased by members at steep discounts.  Check out our courses here.

 

#2 Follow along for FREE!  We offer an array of free content online through webinars, blogs, and videos – you can do any or all of the following to stay connected and up to date on NL happenings!

 

  1. Visit our website www.naturallifemanship.com to explore blogs and other content.  Seriously, so much can be gleaned from our blogs!
  2. Sign up for a free introductory membership and gain access to educational videos and a new free video each month.
  3.  Subscribe to our newsletter to be notified of news, blogs, trainings, etc.
  4. Like and Follow our Facebook page and Instagram – we share videos, pictures, articles, and engage in thoughtful discussions.
  5. The Trauma Focused Equine Assisted Psychotherapy Networking Group on Facebook is also a valuable resource.  This group is managed by NL trainers, but is open to ALL.  Such great conversations happen in this group!
  6. Follow our YouTube Channel for free video content! This is a great place to begin understanding how the relationship between horse and person progresses, organically and over time, utilizing NL principles.  Watch this video first and then follow the progress made with Annie and Abilene.  

 

We look forward to supporting you as you grow professionally and heal personally—so you can support others.

 

Why Natural Lifemanship?

Why Natural Lifemanship?

In truth it was the horsemanship aspect of NL that hooked me first. I didn’t grow up with horses. I didn’t grow up in barns with trainers, no competitions or shows, no one telling me how it should be or what is the ‘right’ way.  In 1998, I was a sophomore at Prescott College and I met a woman named Barbara Rector. I don’t remember the name of the class she was teaching, something about horses and healing … it caught my attention and that was the beginning of something great. Barbara opened a window in my heart and gave me a glimpse of what’s possible between horses and humans. However . . what I found outside that environment was confusing. 

After I met Barbara I dove head first into the field of ‘Equine Assisted’ services. I pursued the field academically and practically as I started to develop my own thoughts and ideas in the world of horsemanship. What I found in that world was that there were a LOT of opinions. And most of those opinions required me, the human, to take care of the horse. To manage the horse. To tell the horse what to do. It never made sense to me and yet it seemed like it was the only answer… clearly horses couldn’t take care of themselves. And so my journey began. Because I didn’t feel I had enough knowledge or experience, I decided I needed to learn as much as I could from other equine professionals. I met some absolutely brilliant ‘horse people’. I stayed on that path for many years, trying to make sense of something that never felt quite right. 

In 2015 my partner, Matt, and I purchased Dandelion Farm and moved Discovery Horse and our herd of 8 horses home in the late fall.  I had been anticipating this day since 1998. I was terrified and excited. I was committed to find a way to live and work with my horses that felt good for everyone. That encouraged us all to grow and be accountable. That felt safe and equal. That fostered connection. I was committed to listen, to make mistakes, to apologize and I was committed to showing up. 

Slowly but surely, I started to see how this new way of being together was affecting the herd. I saw more confidence, less reactivity. They ran TO me when I went to the pasture. They couldn’t wait to get up to the arena when people were here. When people came to the farm I allowed space for them to step into that sort of relationship experience with a horse and amazing things were happening. I really started to question how one form of training could work for every horse.  I was seeing in my own herd instances that defied that logic. I started to understand that being with horses is more about the relationship than it is about knowledge and rules. A relationship that invites each person/being to be their own expert in needs, wants, boundaries and connection.  This was an incredible revelation but one that left me feeling weak in the knees . . because being in this sort of relationship with the herd required me to trust myself, and to see myself as an expert, a task I have spent years working on but by no means have mastered. 

So here I was. Armed with this new revelation, finally feeling good about how I was showing up with my horses, yet still feeling isolated in my belief systems. I struggled to find language, confidence and community to foster what I was practicing.

Enter Natural Lifemanship. In June of 2017 Discovery Horse hosted a NL fundamentals training at our farm. Our trainers for the weekend, Reccia and Claire, presented the attendees with a challenge . . . a request . . . they asked us to believe, for the weekend, that horses could make choices. I’m not sure . . but I think I might have actually ‘whooped’ in agreement. As the weekend progressed I felt as though Reccia and Claire were speaking my language while at the same time opening my mind to a whole new way of supporting my clients, my animal partners and myself, from a place of science and principals that made absolute sense and fell in total alignment with how we had been operating at Discovery Horse. And I found a community that honors the horse as an equal partner and views our connection with horses as not only foundational to our work, but as real and vibrant relationship in its own right. I left that weekend feeling empowered by the fact that I wasn’t alone.

At the time of this writing, I am nearly done with the process to become dually certified as a Natural Lifemanship Practitioner and Equine Professional. As a practitioner of the Equine Gestalt Coaching MethodⓇ my scope of practice is coaching and equine-assisted learning. I am a consummate seeker of knowledge and experience and have been certified and trained with some of the best individuals and models our industry has to offer. The NL model has provided me with a framework that beautifully encapsulates all of my background and training while the principles tie it all together. Since June I have attended a mustang intensive in CA, attended the first NL conference in TX and I participated in a group consultation as part of certification. I have been consistently impressed and inspired by the staff of NL and the individuals that choose to embrace their work. 

I have been very impressed with the depth and professionalism the certification process provides. I am a business owner, coach, horse professional, mom and spouse and the flexible learning platform made it possible to add this to my already full life in a successful way. The community itself is exceptional. The conference was one of the best I have attended, providing staggering amounts of information and representing all facets of equine-assisted professionals. Tim and Bettina truly foster a non-competitive environment focused on growth and learning. The word ‘authentic’ rings true at a deep level. It is clear that this is a community committed to doing the kind of work that changes lives.

Ultimately the principles of NL require us to take responsibility for ourselves while in relationship, which of course requires connection. I have integrated the NL model into many of my client sessions and have consistently seen results that exceed expectation. I like to imagine a world where this happens as the rule and not the exception. I am so stoked to see the impact NL is having on our industry and the relationships we have with our equine partners. I believe that the power of their principles reaches far beyond the field of trauma. . . .it is really a recipe for life as their name so beautifully implies!

As a student of Barbara Rector’s we were asked to make a safety agreement as a group before we began our work. The agreement Barbara used was:

“I agree to be responsible for myself today, thus contributing to the safety of this group”. Not until the moment of writing was I aware how full circle this statement would come in my life. After 20 years of searching, Natural Lifemanship has helped me access my ability to trust myself, allowing me to confidently embrace and facilitate the horse and human connections I always knew were possible.

 

Experience the Natural Lifemanship principles for yourself and find the pieces you’ve been missing as well by signing up for one of our trainings in your area. Also, be on the lookout for our trainings coming up in 2019.

 

The Ride of Your Life, How Does One Get That?

The Ride of Your Life, How Does One Get That?

…The Ride of Your Life

Leslie and I arrived at Miracle Farm in Brenham Texas with great excitement for our Natural Lifemanship Rhythmic Riding Immersion.   This was the next stage of our education: an advanced intensive training designed to help us experience and understand more deeply how rhythmic patterned sensory input and movement helps a person learn to manage – or regulate – themselves through stressful or emotional moments of life.

Research shows that connected, attuned and healthy relationships are the paths (literally: neural pathways) to building resilience and to overcoming the effects of complex trauma on our brain and our body.   To create that kind of relationship, a person has to be able to manage themselves first; to understand when fear, anger or defensiveness is present, and to be able to do something constructive with those feelings.   We call this “regulation”.

Our group for this training was small, and the trust for each other was immediate.   That, we would soon learn, was important as the work we were to do over the next three days was going to require vulnerability,  persistence, failure, change, support and a willingness to risk it all.   Our goal was to build a relationship with a horse that puts connection above all else, recognize when “compliance” or “dissociation” is offered instead of connection, and actually ride/dance to the rhythm of music by the time we left on Sunday.

To prepare ourselves for the work at hand, each day started with a mindfulness practice and drumming exercises designed to get us in touch with our own internal rhythms, and to find ways to merge that with our partners.   Together we had to learn to dance independently and also in sync, often at the same moment.

We met Pete in an open arena with four other horses.  He seemed somewhat willing to notice that we were there and offered, at a distance, a bit of connection.   Pete stood alone and independent, he was attractive, and had the cutest white snip on his nose.   Leslie and I chose him as our relationship partner for the weekend.

Other than the fact that Pete lives at Miracle Farm, we knew nothing about him.  We were excited, and began the process of attuning our senses to Pete’s non-verbal communication, his rhythm, his desires and his ability to connect when asked.  It was Leslie’s job to establish our first connection and to obtain his consent in putting on a halter, but only five minutes into the process we knew one thing more – when asked to connect Pete can be aggressive.   Ears pinned, nose out, and at a fast pace, he moved toward Leslie.  He made it very clear how he felt about connection with us and our request for relationship!

Deep breath; we had our work cut out for us this weekend.   Was this acceptable behavior?   Do we recognize similar behavior in other parts of our lives?  How do we respond? Do we allow it?   Does Pete really desire a connected relationship with us, or is that just our “thing”?  And how do we help Pete change this mal-adaptive behavior (behavior meant to keep him safe in other situations, but not appropriate in this situation) through a connection and not by punishment?

Over the next three days, Leslie, Pete and I climbed what seemed to be a staircase.   With each step up – and often when we felt like we’d left the aggressive behavior behind – Pete brought it out again.    At first we were shocked, certain that we had overcome that on the previous step!   By Saturday afternoon we kept seeing the same pattern emerge.  Every time we moved forward with deeper connection Pete became very uncomfortable.   His stress started to rise and the negative behavior returned, however now a new adaptation was added: whenever the stress reached a certain point, Pete started to pump his hind legs up and down. We thought that he was trying to regulate, but dang! Was all of this too much?   Should we slow down? Should we speed up?    What?   Clearly, Pete was not the only one going through this process, and Leslie and I learned to open ourselves to the feedback from each other. Whenever one of us began to doubt the process or our attempts to move through it, the other filled in with support.   We often wondered if it was Pete’s behavior that was causing the defensiveness in our own brains and bodies, or – was it the other way around?

 

By Sunday morning, we were not sure that our rhythmic ride was going to happen by the afternoon.   We were open to all possibilities and stayed committed to an attuned connection with Pete.   However, by mid-morning, Pete had said “yes” to the bareback pad, and so it was time to ask if we could ride.    Like all of the previous steps, he aggressively said “no” at first, only this time we got to “yes” much quicker.   I was the first to ride, and within minutes we were fluidly moving around the pen.   We found stop, go, left and right without the use of my hands or reins.  Leslie had the same type of ride.   We exhaled and broke for lunch early.   The three of us had overcome what had once been a brick wall boundary – together.

After lunch, we saddled up, and it came as no surprise that Pete provided us with the opportunity to work through some more stress.  But now, his former aggressiveness had changed to just a little bit of defensiveness.  Once again, I was the first to step on and this time there was nothing to work through!   Pete and I headed to the big arena, both of us a little nervous for the unknown that lay ahead.   Two songs played as we warmed up in a walk, and then my first song (“Fly” by Celine Dion) came on.    Pete and I found our Rhythm quickly, but I honestly have no idea how we did it.   There was no technique involved; we just felt each other.   We found a walk and a trot beautifully, and – somewhere in that song – we found trust.    We were totally connected, both of us feeling the power of the moment.

Then it was time to step off. I was overcome by the intensity and the work of the weekend that had culminated in the past 30 minutes that, as a person who has many horses living on her own property, I had never felt before.

Then, it was Leslie’s turn to fly.  And while that is her story to tell, I believe she had a very similar experience.   I kept the beat for her as well, and the final song found the three of us walking together, Leslie on Pete, she and I holding hands.   Only the three of us could really know where we had been together, all that had been accomplished, and the connections that had been developed between us.

At the end of this type of immersive experience there is usually an opportunity to reflect on and talk about all that you have learned.    It is these final moments of the training that Leslie and I learned a little more about Pete.   He had participated in these type of trainings before, but he had never been able to complete them.   His aggressive and defensive behavior had been evident, but he had also displayed signs of colic (stomach ache), severe diarrhea, and lameness.   In fact, Pete had recently seen three different veterinarians in the farm’s attempt to figure out what was causing the lameness issues.   They saw it, but could not find any medical reason for it.

Unbeknownst to us, Miracle Farm and Natural Lifemanship were wondering if Pete’s physical condition had something to do with his adaption to his environment and life on the farm.   Leslie and I happened to be next in the line of folks that had the opportunity to help him work through his difficulties.   We saw his shallow breathing, we heard the stomach rumbling, and we were aware of several other physical aspects of his adaptive behavior, but he never colicked, and he absolutely never took a faltering step during our rides of a lifetime.    Pete made it through – he had crossed a threshold that he had never crossed before.  Along the way he had also developed some new neural pathways that would allow him to do it again.   Leslie and I are so grateful for those that had helped Pete before us, and were honored beyond our imagination to have been on the part of the journey that allowed him to cross the final threshold.

This was an intense weekend.  At each step along the way we had to be willing to risk the relationships we had developed to see if we could take them one step further, one step healthier.    This is the work that our clients – individuals who have experienced complex trauma in their own lives – their families, and their friends must be willing to do in order to heal and regain their life and relationships.

We see this frequently at Windows to My Soul.   An individual makes a huge breakthrough, or finds a subtle change that allows them to deepen their connections and discover more resilience, direction, or empowerment.   Yes, it can and does happen, but it is often not a “big bang” moment.    We frequently have to climb that same staircase that Pete climbed, and with every step there is the opportunity to develop a new neural pathway to success instead of the old one that has us stuck in and feeling trauma.   Over time, conscious choices begin to help direct us toward the new path, leading to an implicit neural pathway that creates successful, healthy, connected relationships automatically.

We know that the next time Pete is asked if he would like to participate in a training or carry a rider that his brain and his body might feel and express the same automatic reaction (old neural pathway) to the request.  But we also know that he has developed a new pathway that will allow for healthier relationships, and an ability to help him recognize the universal need for connection.   Once, only one choice was possible for him. Now there are two.

It is Leslie’s and my sincere wish that Pete will be surrounded by folks who understand that, and are willing to support Pete as he strengthens his pathways to connection, particularly when reverting to the old pathway can be so much easier.

And if Miracle Farm is ever ready, our trailer will be hooked and ready to roll to Texas!   Pete has a forever home at Windows to My Soul, any day, any time.

Edited by: Leslie Exter

 

Experience Rhythmic Riding™ for yourself. Click the link below to sign up for our last RR Immersion training this year.

Natural Lifemanship Rhythmic Riding Immersion – August 17th-19th, 2018, Horse Sense of the Carolinas, Marshall, NC 

Learn More about the Rhythmic Riding Immersion

Learn More about Windows to My Soul

Deification is Still Objectification

Deification is Still Objectification

Typically, when we think of objectification we think of the overtly negative kind.  Women’s bodies as objects for other’s consumption, children as extensions of ourselves, or the Earth as a disposable resource for our own benefit. Yet, a more subtle objectification is alive and well in human nature – that is, the deification of someone or something, the act of putting someone not below us, but above us and on a pedestal.

This can be seen clearly in the equine therapy world, where there seem to be two opposing camps at odds with each other.  One believes horses are a useful tool for the healing and growth of humans – the other believes horses to be wise beyond measure, bordering on otherworldly, and having unknowable gifts to offer us.

The “horse as a tool” camp has a long history; throughout their generations, horses alongside human beings have been work animals.  They carried warriors into battle, pulled farm equipment, were a mode of transportation, and then more recently, a source of recreation.  None of these activities with horses lends itself well to seeing them as sentient beings.  To care for them and think about them as we do a human would interfere with the work.  And generally speaking, humans also have a long history of seeing animals as fundamentally different from us; they couldn’t possibly share in our experiences, feelings, and needs.  Much of horse training reflects these beliefs – domination, power, and control continue to be the go-to for working with horses, no matter their job.  For this camp, horses are considered less intelligent than humans, less capable of self-control/self-determination, and certainly in need of our leadership.  In equine therapy specifically, this plays out as horses being a facilitator for therapy and not much more.  They are an object for practicing leadership skills, setting boundaries, for guiding through obstacles; and when the horse listens and does what he is told, we humans feel strong and confident.  Also in the “horse is a tool” camp, there is the horse that isn’t even a horse – he is a representation of my angry father, or my cold mother, or my demanding boss.  He doesn’t necessarily have to do anything to make me feel that way, I just feel it because I needed to – and the horse was there to embody those feelings for me.  It’s easier to project onto him than onto an inanimate object, like in the empty chair technique commonly used in office therapy – and easier to project onto him than a real person, because a person is inclined to express their own thoughts and feelings that don’t fit for our projection.  The horse’s feedback then, his own experience and behaviors are not often taken into consideration – it would give him more dimension than would be helpful in the “horse as a tool” paradigm. He is something of a chess piece moved through a session in order to produce feelings or reactions in the human client.  His presence is very useful, but he is not an individual and there is no dual-sided relationship there.  The relationship is all on the human’s terms.

In more recent years, thanks to science and some evolution of thought, we are beginning to be reminded that humans are also animals, and perhaps not that different from those who surround us.  More consideration for the welfare and internal lives of horses has arisen – a very good thing.  However, it seems we are overcorrecting a bit, and now witnessing another camp forming.  Or actually, simply growing in prominence – as this camp has been around as long as the first, really, but gaining traction in this new attempt at honoring the horse.  This second camp sees horses not as tools or mere utilitarian devices, but as powerful spiritual guides, insightful creatures with gifts for healing.  In this camp, horses are mystical, operating on another plane of existence, and here to give us messages that our limited human brains cannot detect for ourselves.  They are, in a sense, deities walking among us.  Some would say this is a beautiful correction to the idea of horses’ as lesser beings and tools for our use.  But, to me, this is simply the other side of the same coin.

If a horse is a tool we use him for our benefit, and often miss the real flesh and blood animal standing in front of us.  We see only our desires for him, our own goals, our own path.  We control him to practice leadership or we project onto him to provide catharsis, and we worry very little about his own desires and needs.  We don’t take in his presence, his behavior, as information on how we can change to be in better relationship with him, this specific horse.  We miss that he is perhaps checked out, or stressed out, or confused and irritated – because we just want him to do what we ask, or represent someone he is not.  But the flip side is not much better – here’s the thing, if a horse is a sort of a god – a creature capable of telepathy and mystical healing, he is STILL an object.  In this camp, much value is placed on the act of just being with horses.  It is often argued that simply sitting with them provides healing, growth, and insight.  Now, as a horse lover myself I can honestly say there is something lovely about sitting with horses.  There is a peacefulness there, and much like meditation, when I am still and peaceful I have clarity of mind.  But to say the horse, while grazing and drinking water and pooping on the ground, is sending me messages from others on another plane of existence, is telepathic somehow, is to continue not seeing that horse, for who he is.  He is still an object, a representation of my inner world.  (Not to mention, feeling peaceful while sitting with horses may feel nice, but it is not therapy.  We cannot ethically call this sort of work psychotherapy, we cannot bill insurance, and we certainly cannot be taken seriously by the psychotherapy and medical fields. Feeling peaceful momentarily or experiencing catharsis does not equal therapeutic growth. )

There is a fine line between being spiritual and twisting spirituality to suit ourselves.  This treatment of horses crosses that line, frequently.  I by no means intend to suggest that a spiritual connection with a horse isn’t possible – on the contrary, I firmly believe it is.  But, I have seen time and time again this desire for a spiritual connection taken to an extreme that renders horses one-dimensional, and even more upsetting, continues the destructive paradigm of power and control – the exact paradigm this camp set out to destroy!  When the horse is simply a conduit, a reflection of our inner world, or a creature on a pedestal, we still control him.  We decide what he tells us and when, we decide what his behavior means to us.  We go to him when we need something from him, and think little of how our interactions could be mutually beneficial from his perspective. What disturbs me about the blending of the spiritual with horses is I rarely hear of someone getting a negative message from their horse.  I’m not sure I’ve ever heard people speak of communing with horses and receiving the message, “I don’t really want to be around you, will you go away?”  – and yet, I see horses respond to people, through their behavior, with this exact message frequently.   So what’s happening here?  To me, it is the disconnect between reality and human projection.  We want to control the information we receive.  No one wants to hear that they are a mess and not fun to be around.  But, spirituality, when it is done in the search for wholeness, has real darkness to it.  There is brutal honesty, grief, and unpleasantness when we dig deep – as well as the good.   If your spiritual connection with a horse is all telepathic sunshine and rainbows – it might be worth questioning.   It’s scary to release control of both sides of the relationship, but it is also where the real, tangible healing happens – healing that can be carried forward into new relationships.

Horses are animals, mammals, similar to us in some ways and different in others.  They have their own desires, their own needs, and their own priorities.  We, over the centuries, have domesticated them and insisted they live alongside us.  The least we could do is learn about their communication, their behavior and do our best to see each of them as an individualWhether we see the horse as a tool or an otherworldly being – what ultimately suffers is the therapy, and the horse’s welfare. (Keep an eye out for blogs on those topics later).

Until proven otherwise, what we currently know is horses communicate through body language – the combinations of tension and relaxation, ear position, movement, and more.  In a therapy session, when a horse leaves us to go drink water – is he telling us that our soul is thirsty and it’s time to take better care of ourselves, or is he rejecting our attempts at connection just like our mother…or is he simply an animal that needs to quench his own, literal, thirst?  Which one is based in his reality, and which one is something we decided based on what we wanted to hear/feel/see in the moment?  Not to mention, what does this do to the therapeutic growth of the client – to ignore a simple behavioral choice and pile countless meanings on it instead? To interpret behaviors as more than their face value?  To expect telepathy?  Have you ever experienced that real desire for your spouse to read your mind?  To just know you wanted or needed something without having to ask…and for those of you who have been with a partner for a long time – how often does this telepathy occur? For my clients, this sort of thing is often what landed them in relational difficulties in the first place – mind-reading, meaning-laden interpretations of behavior, projection.  These are road blocks to true connection –  love based on reality, intimacy, authenticity.  I, for one, do not want to recreate these unhealthy patterns in my therapy sessions, and therefore, cannot try to control the horse, dismiss the horse, or deify the horse.

The thing that makes me the saddest about these two camps, besides the possible damage done to clients and horses – is that both are missing out on the very real relationship that is possible.  I can’t have a connected, nourishing, and challenging relationship with an object like I can with a sentient being.  And in therapy, a lack of real relationship restricts significant opportunities for lasting healing.  This is different from the cognitive shift that can happen when I see my mother in the horse’s behavior, or lead a horse through an obstacle course, or hear wisdom from within when I sit quietly watching horses graze.  None of these activities require the horse to be a sentient being, a unique individual – this same work is being done with furniture in an office, or drawings, or solitary contemplation.  And while, of course, these activities with horses can be beneficial, it is difficult for these benefits to last.  For lasting change, our brains and bodies have to practice a new way of being – insight alone is not enough.  Consider how many people you have met who know the right things to do, and simply can’t do them consistently (myself included!). The beauty of the horse as a sentient being, a partner in therapy, is that I can build a real two-sided relationship with him.  I can try to engage, ask things of him, have him ask things of me; I can make mistakes and see the horse’s negative response, and then I can repair those mistakes and see the horse’s positive response.  It’s harder, and it’s more vulnerable.  There are moments when I will be greatly humbled, and moments when I don’t get what I want.  But, it’s also real.  With time, I can learn his preferences and he mine – and we can navigate the difficulties of boundary setting, intimacy, listening, and asking.  I can learn, deep in my bones, how to be in a healthy partnership where we both heal, and then I can practice it each time we are together.  And when I do that, I can go back to my human relationships with new ways of being, not just thoughts.  My human relationships transform – and isn’t that the ultimate goal of therapy with horses?  To heal not just in session, but out in the world too?  But none of that is possible if this specific horse, with his specific temperament, isn’t truly seen for who he really is.  Not for what he represents and not for what he can do for me.

Some folks may assume I mean that these two camps aren’t ever doing good work, or that there is malice in these approaches.  Neither is fully true.  Good work can be done, and it is human nature, not evil, to try to control others and our experience.  My argument, though, is that there is a third way.  A way in which horses are neither less than or better than, but animals just like us; full of foibles and bad habits and grace and healing  – and in this third way are both the human and horse honored for their real, flesh and blood contribution.  My argument is for letting go of controlling the other, so we can see what is really there, right in front of us. 

But I Miss The Caterpillar: My story of transformation and loss

But I Miss The Caterpillar: My story of transformation and loss

Secure attachment to this moment is about finding safety, security, and perfect acceptance of what is, while still being free to miss what was, and long for what will be.

In 2017 I was given the opportunity to practice one of the more difficult principles we teach in Natural Lifemanship – Secure attachment is only found when we are able to feel an internal sense of connection during attachment with AND during detachment from important relationships.  The possibility that we can experience a deep sense of connection to others when we are physically alone is, oftentimes, difficult in theory and in practice.  I will share my personal story of growth, change, transformation, grief. . . and loss…extreme loss, and how our child helped me better understand that secure attachment extends beyond the relationship with self and others. We can also seek to find a secure attachment to this life and this moment, in general.  We can be “securely attached” to a thing, an idea, a moment, a belief. . . Secure attachment extends to “what is”, and that requires the ability to be connected to not only what is right here with us, but also what is gone, or not even here yet.

In Natural Lifemanship (NL) the way we conceptualize secure attachment, connection, attachment, and detachment are important.  Specific language and concepts help people effectively transfer learning organically and seamlessly between species and space.  This language also provides the space for abstract human concepts to become more concrete and physical, oftentimes making them easier to internalize.  Many times in NL physical concepts have an emotional counterpart and vice versa.  Attachment can be equated to the sharing of physical space.  Detachment can be thought of as exploring physical distance.  Both attachment and detachment can exist when there is a concrete felt a sense of connection, as well as an internal sense of connection. Alternatively, a sense of aloneness can prevail regardless of proximity.  Children and adults with a secure attachment pattern are able to feel connected and secure in their intimate relationships, while still allowing themselves and their partner to move freely (detachment).  It is this kind of relationship that we help people find with a horse – this is part of the reparative experience for our clients. . . and, I would say, for many of us as well.

More about attachment and detachment in therapy sessions can be found in this blog by Kate Naylor. More about how spiritual intimacy grows through connection with detachment can be found in this blog by Laura McFarland. When you sign up for Basic Membership you gain access to more than 5 hours of video demonstrating how attachment, detachment, and connection play out in a relationship that is built between horse and human + more online learning and many other benefits. View all of our membership content here.

But I Miss The Caterpillar…

A year ago, I was reading our two-year-old (almost three-year-old) a book called “The Very Hungry Caterpillar.”  On the last page when the caterpillar turns into a beautiful butterfly, our child said, “But where is the caterpillar?”  I reviewed the process the caterpillar had gone through in this sweet little book we’d read many times, and he said, “But I miss the caterpillar.”  We had a wonderful conversation about change and transformation. . . and loss.  You see, this conversation happened about two weeks after our nanny, Carolyn – “Kiki” to Cooper – died a sudden, tragic, unexpected, and untimely death.  Carolyn had been our full-time nanny, traveling with us as Natural Lifemanship was growing, since Cooper was 3 months old.  She was a member of our family, and like a second mother to me in every way.  She drove me crazy and I loved her dearly.  She made it possible for us to work in a field about which Tim and I are deeply passionate, while still spending as much time as possible with Cooper. . . something about which we’re even more passionate.  She helped us raise our child.  I think I’ll just repeat that again for emphasis.  She helped us raise our child.  She helped me, in very practical ways, navigate this whole working mom thing.  She loved Cooper and he loved his Kiki.  This was a major loss for our family – couched between and among more loss.  In the latter part of 2016 and throughout 2017 our family tragically, suddenly, and unexpectedly lost three more significant relationships.  We lost two more the “normal” way – it was expected and it was time, and still painful.  After my son and I talked about how change and transformation are often accompanied by grief and loss – in two-year-old language, of course – my little boy said, “I miss Kiki too.  AND I don’t wike (like) butterflies.”  At that moment, stories of Kiki walking the streets of gold, pain-free, with her mother and with her Jesus, did very little to offer me comfort. . . I must admit I agreed with my little philosopher.  I do believe death is the ultimate transformation, and I wasn’t particularly fond of butterflies at that moment either!

Death is also the ultimate detachment from the ones we love, and can result in disconnection. . . or not.   It takes many of us years to learn how to deeply connect with those we can see, hear, feel, and touch (attachment).  It is often much harder to find that connection when we are physically separated (detachment).  Connection with distance takes practice and intentionality and a willingness to sit in the pain of disconnection, for moments, instead of avoiding it.  It is a secure attachment that helps us navigate detachment and loss.   Typically death is much more painful when it results in disconnection.  I say typically because I do realize that sometimes death and disconnection are needed for healing and closure to occur.  Sometimes death makes it better.  There were moments this last year that I felt this disconnection. . . those are the moments when people describe agony worse than losing a limb. . . slowly. . . without any form of anesthesia.  I felt that kind of pain over the last year, many times.  I felt it in the moments that I could no longer remember someone’s hands. . . or hear their voice. . . or recall their smell.   Our child felt it the night he told me, “I don’t remember Kiki” and wept in my arms.  At the core of much developmental and attachment trauma, is an inability to find an internal sense of connection to others when together. . . through shared space and experience, eye contact, touch. . . this transfers to an inability to feel an internal sense of connection when there is distance.  Of course.  I continue to muddle through the agonizing moments of detachment and disconnection.  The freedom to “miss the caterpillar” guides me back to an internal sense of connection with relationships that meant so much to me, and mean so much to me. . . still.  Feeling “allowed” to miss what is gone helps us stay connected, even when detached.  Our freedom to grieve what once was and what will not be in the future opens us up to a connection in detachment.

However, 2017 definitely hasn’t been all about, what most would deem. . . loss.  It has been an amazing year for Natural Lifemanship.  We have grown, we have changed, and, I would argue, that we are in the midst of a massive transformation.  I’m experiencing how these concepts of attachment can be practiced in not only relationships, but also with ideas, businesses, and moments of our lives. I have always loved butterflies.  However, butterflies are sort of the end product, and they don’t really live all that long.  A close friend of mine recently pointed out that butterflies get all the credit, but that the caterpillar does all the work.  For Pete’s sake, The Very Hungry Caterpillar worked his little tail off to grow, and then he had to sit in a dark cocoon for two stinkin’ weeks!  Time in the cacoon isn’t just a long nap, by the way.  He worked hard!  The butterfly’s journey is really that of the caterpillar.  The growing pains of this year are no joke!  Sometimes I miss the simplicity of 8 years ago when it all began.  I miss the caterpillar, but I still long for the butterfly.  Transformation is always predicated on the death of something. . .which means that detachment is a vital part of life and growth. If we want to be securely attached – to a person, an idea, or a moment in time – we must have an internal sense of connection when we are attached and when we are detached.

To be securely attached to the present and the future we have to maintain a healthy connection to the present, and future, AND to the past – connection to what is and what was and what could be.  They all matter – that which I am attached to today and that which I have detached from – I need to be connected to both.  Secure attachment to this moment is about finding safety, security, and perfect acceptance of what is, while still being free to miss what was, and long for what will be (detachment).  This is at the crux of what we teach in NL.  We learn to find this through the relationship with our equine partner and then transfer this way of being in the world to every part of our lives.

Our business has changed.  Absolutely. We have grown up, matured, and deepened.  Transformation, indeed.    When Tim and I started this business almost eight years ago, we only dreamed about where we are today, but I still miss the caterpillar.  Doesn’t mean that I don’t fully love and accept where we are now.  Doesn’t mean I don’t long for the butterfly, but the caterpillar did a lot of work. (And still is!)

October 2017, in the midst of all this loss, Tim and I found out that we are going to have another baby!  It really is a miracle of grand proportions, a welcomed gift, and. . . a surprise.  We also found out just two days before our first ever conference, and before the busiest fall training schedule, we’ve ever had.  Can good news come at a bad time?  Well?  It did for me!  I am well aware of the transformative process every part of me is undergoing and will be undergoing as a result of this new life inside of me.  I am also very aware of the loss.  I kinda miss the naïve bliss of my first pregnancy.  I long for the butterfly.  I grieve the loss of the caterpillar, and I strive, each and every day to deeply revel in this beautiful moment.

This year has been all about transformation.  Our three year old has recently decided that butterflies are okay.  In fact, a few weeks ago he pointed to the body of a butterfly in our living room and said, “The caterpillar is still there.  It’s just different.”  After a long pause and a deep breath, he said, “But I still miss the caterpillar.”  This past year I thought we would have to teach Cooper about grief and loss – hopefully, we did guide him through this process a bit – but he taught me about transformation and true connection.  What a gift it has been to grieve with my child.  Secure attachment is about looking forward and looking back while maintaining a felt sense of connection now – Just like a child builds a secure attachment through this dance of looking forward and looking back, moving toward and moving away, all while feeling the satisfaction of safety and connection to self and others. . . at this moment.  I long for the butterfly and this lifelong transformative process, but I miss the caterpillar.  Secure attachment in our relationships can’t exist if we feel chronic disconnection when there is distance.  Likewise, a secure attachment to what is and to our future only exists when we find a healthy connection with the past.  I so look forward to 2018 – the growth, the change, the transformation . . . and the inevitable loss. . . and the beautiful connection that comes in the midst of it all.  I miss the caterpillar, and that is okay, because, really. . . I should.  Plus, our three-year-old says it’s okay!