One of the questions I hear most often from students who have completed the Fundamentals of Natural Lifemanship is this:
“How much direction do I give my clients? Do I teach them exactly what I learned in the Fundamentals, or do I let them discover the principles on their own?”
It is an important question, and the answer is not as straightforward as we might hope. The truth is, the answer is both yes and no. It depends. . .
It depends on pacing. It depends on the practitioner’s experience and skillset. It depends on the client’s goals. And it depends on where they are in their process.
This question matters because the way we teach and offer guidance directly shapes a client’s ability to form authentic, healing relationships: with the horse, with others, and with themselves.
Teaching and Guiding
When we teach the Fundamentals, we offer a clearer, more structured path for building connection with the horse. We do this intentionally. Students need a solid foundation to understand how to build safe, connected relationships. We call this the “straighter line.” It helps you build more meaningful connections using principles that are grounded in science and lived experience.
But client sessions rarely follow a straight line. Healing is a winding path that unfolds in its own time. In those moments, the relationship goes beyond technique—it becomes a space for true healing, moving at its own natural pace.
With clients, I often slow things way down. I may teach less, and guide more. I may ask more questions. I may simply hold space. Sometimes it is best for a client to figure out the principles on their own, with my guidance. Other times, it is more helpful to teach them exactly what is learned in the Fundamentals, and then offer support and guidance when difficulty arises.
Both paths can lead to transformation. The key is in discerning which one is needed.
When Guiding Teaches – finding the answer
Tim and I once worked with an eight-year-old girl who had been adopted from the foster care system. Like many of the clients we meet in this work, she had endured an overwhelming amount of trauma. Her ACE score was a ten. And yet, she was the most delightful little munchkin you ever did see—when she smiled, her sweet button nose would wrinkle, lifting her pink glasses up off her face. She was a hot mess, in the very best sense of the word. Her adoptive parents loved her deeply, but they were worried.
In her world, safety had never been familiar. She would wander away from the bus stop and walk into strangers’ homes asking for snacks or to use the bathroom. She wasn’t reckless—just searching for connection in the only ways she knew. Her history had distorted her ability to sense risk.
When we worked with the horse, we didn’t tell her what to do. Instead, we asked questions and let her choose the path. She picked a horse with almost no training and, of course, on day one she wanted to ride. That was her pattern—leap before learning, jump in before reasonably assessing risk.
So we guided, but never handed her the answers. She dragged a saddle that weighed more than she did into the round pen, only to find her horse wouldn’t stand still.
“Have you taught him to stand still?” we asked. “Have you helped him feel safe with a saddle?”
She hadn’t—so she did. She learned about pressure, regulation, energy, and connected detachment. Then she decided to mount, but the horse wouldn’t stand at the block. To get him there, she first had to teach him to follow. That meant practicing connected attachment: backing up when he came toward her, lowering her energy, softening her body.
We talked about how prey animals respond to threats, and she problem-solved how to teach her horse that she is safe – that she is not a predator. She figured out why we back up when the horse looks at us, without us teaching it. She began to practice backing up, lowering her energy, and softening her body. And in doing so, she started to learn what safety looks and feels like—not just from others, but within herself.
Through guided discovery with her horse, she transformed moments of impulsivity into opportunities to experience safety, connection, and self-awareness—learning the principles of relationship from the inside out.
To learn more about some of the ways we guided her to her own answers, instead of teaching her the NL principles of relationship, check out this webinar.
When Teaching Guides – still finding the answer
Another client came to me after the devastating loss of a child. She sought therapy for other reasons (more on that in the webinar), and we were working on establishing connection with the horse.
I taught her exactly what to do: when the horse turns and looks at you, release pressure. Step back. Let your shoulders drop. Exhale. Lower your energy. Create space.
She understood the instructions. She even practiced them without the horse.
But when the moment came, and the horse looked at her, she stood still. Her body would not move. I reminded her gently. Still, she stood frozen.
So we explored what was happening. We tuned into her body. And what we found was this: Backing up required a bit of softening. Softening stirred a fear of collapse. Collapse was an incomplete movement that felt like letting go. Letting go felt like a loss of connection. And for her, that brought her straight back to the raw grief of losing her child.
What began with structured teaching became a doorway into something much deeper. We worked slowly. She started by softening ever so slightly at the knees. She practiced releasing energy in small, safe increments. Over time, she began to feel how softening doesn’t dissolve connection—it can deepen it.
In this case, I taught her clearly. But the transformation happened in the space where her body could not yet follow what her mind knew. That is where the therapeutic work began.
To learn more about how I guided her when her feet simply could not move, I invite you to watch this webinar.
Principles for Practitioners
There is no single right answer when it comes to teaching versus guiding.
Sometimes, clients need structure. Other times, they need a bit more space to explore and problem-solve. The decision depends on their goals, their nervous system state, and their capacity for relational engagement in that moment. It also depends on the practitioner’s comfort with uncertainty and their ability to attune, to both the horse and person.
When I first began this work, I taught a lot. I planned each session carefully, offered clear instructions, and guided clients step by step. And that approach worked—it helped people learn, it created safety, and it opened doors to healing.
Over time, my style evolved. I now step into sessions with fewer plans and more presence. I give less instruction, hold more space, and offer guidance that meets the moment rather than a script.
And remember—amazing things still happen when we teach. There are many roads to the same healing outcome.
You don’t have to begin with unstructured presence. It’s okay to start with more structure. As you grow more confident in your own embodiment of the work, you can gradually lean into guiding more and teaching less—allowing sessions to unfold organically.
The key is to start somewhere, with plenty of self-compassion and grace, and then gently challenge yourself to take small risks toward more guidance and less instruction.
Why This Matters (For Facilitators and Clients)
The relationship between client and horse often parallels the relationships they have elsewhere.Through this work, they learn what it means to feel safe, to have and set boundaries, to build trust, and to show up with authenticity.
When we strike the right balance between teaching, guiding, and letting go, we invite our clients into a space where they can explore these relational dynamics in a safe, embodied way. Teaching often creates safety and predictability, laying the foundation, but we learn not by being told, but by doing. Guiding can offer just the right amount of direction and support, allowing our clients to heal not just by understanding, but by experiencing.
And that is where the deepest change happens.
Want to Go Deeper?
If you have ever wrestled with the question of how much to direct your clients, you are not alone. It is one of the most common questions I receive, and for good reason. The answer is complex, but it is also learnable.
I recently talked about this topic in a webinar, where I shared these stories in great detail and offered practical, concrete tools to help you navigate this balance with more confidence and clarity.
We will also explore topics like this in the NL Intensive, where you will have the chance to practice, reflect, and grow in community.
I hope you will join us.
Recent Comments