The Spirit of Horses
I can't remember why he said it that day. We were standing around the barn, cleaning stalls, tending our horses, and maybe I told him about my little mustang taking a strike at me--or maybe it was Cowboy taking a kick at me and missing--it doesn't really matter. Anyone who works with horses knows things can go along smoothely 99 percent of the time and then one day something unforeseen happens and we're reminded how half wild, proud, and strong these phenomonal animals really are.
Last week, when Katie's Zippy broke through the fence like it was nothing and my herd of six horses joined her on that wild rampage, it was clear to us that there was no stopping them unless they decided to stop. In those minutes of not knowing which direction they'd go--through the fence and into the wild city, or to us to let us halter them, I was reminded how little control we really have except what they give us.
When Zippy finally stopped for me and let me catch her I was thankful, but she was new to my herd and the rest of the horses did not take her lead. As far as they were concerned, there could have been a cougar or bear that had got her running around in the first place, and they were going to be ready to tear out of there and save themselves.
But lucky for me, my three year old filly, Cia, stopped and listened to my whoaing and tried to use the rational side of her brain rather than the flight side the rest of the herd was using. She stood there looking at me while her buddies circled around her and would not be caught. I thought, as the second lowest in the herd, she wasn't the best to catch, but since she was the only one stopping, I took her anyway and the rest soon followed.
It did not escape me how unnatural a thing it was she was doing, to stop and come to us rather than taking flight to escape. Some would say it is actually a natural thing for them to stop and listen to you if you're truly their leader, since they'd listen to their horse leader in the wild, but even so, isn't it amazing that they'll allow us to lead them at all?
The spirit and will of a horse is strong, and when it's unleashed the power will overwhelm you.
Those of us who choose to work with horses are drawn to that power--it's something we always know is there just under the surface. When they're calm and gentle toward us and our children, we're amazed and grateful, knowing that their true nature is half-wild and proud.
There are days we work with our horses and that wild nature asserts itself--usually when we're asking for more work than they want to do or taking them out of their comfort zone. In those times--maybe the wind is blowing, maybe it has been a cold day--they may do something that puts us and themselves in danger--even a "dead-broke" horse can have moments like that. Then, the very next day, or even the very next hour, they are back to themselves with no memory of the event that just occurred. Every minute is a new minute with a horse and maybe that is how it should also be with us humans, too.
I remember the spirits of my horses that have passed like they are still living--they made such a lasting impression on me. The ones in my herd today have captured me in the same way. I can't get enough of them, can't thank them enough for bending their wildness to my instruction and their fear to my care. I think when they do this, it speaks strongly to that timeless part of us--our own spirits--and spirit to spirit we know and remember them.
Thoreau said, and it's one of the only quotes I really remember from him, "I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."
I think we've all come to horses for the same reason--their power teaches us to pay attention to the moment we are in and that same power reminds us that we are, indeed, living, and we're happy we are.
