Spread out across the pasture are two miniature horses, one draft, and three “light” horses. All have their heads down munching on the still-green grass. The sky overhead is blue with puffy white clouds. A gentle breeze adds a little chill to this nearly perfect mild fall Michigan afternoon.
Paul was facilitating this activity for the Equine-Assisted Education (EAL) Symposium at my farm. The three-day gathering brought together EAL providers from around the country who shared a love of partnering with horses in educational settings. Among the participants were both people new to the field and several who helped create it. We welcomed Debbie from Indiana who was a founder of programs supporting youth development of life skills. Also, in the crowd was Ed who worked for a college, offering EAL programs as part of a human resources course. There were also students in Prescott Colleges Master’s from equine-assisted learning and mental health, from throughout the US and Canada.
The symposium was divided into chunks, led by some of the most experienced EAL providers in the country. Paul and Pam were leading the activity that brought us out into this open pasture. Paul began explaining, in his gentle cowboy way, that he invites the group to divide themselves into pairs, with each pair matching up with one of the horses currently ignoring us. The goal of the activity is to halter the horse, then let the horse keep doing whatever it wants to. The humans’ job is to keep the lead rope loose, seeking to match the energy, steps, and cadence of their equine partners. Paul finished the instructions, then showed the group a pile of halters to choose from.
One by one participants paired up, finding partners, then selecting a halter. The halter selection determined the horse the pair was going to work with because of its size. Mini halter. Mini horse. Huge halter. Huge horse – our draft Tigger. Mid-size halter – Al, Diva, or Charlie Brown. With halters in hands, the pairs slowly walked toward their chosen horses, scattered across the three-acre field.
Charlie decided he’d rather not be haltered because that usually represents work, so he slowly trotted a few steps, then stopped to graze again. The pair of determined participants approached him. He sensed the pressure of the people, trotted a few more steps, putting distance between the halter and himself. The pair decided to take a new approach. One person, without the halter, arcs around to the front of Mr. Brown and began scratching the side of his neck. Distracted by this friendly gesture, the second person was able to slowly saddle up next to him, slipping the lead rope over his neck. Knowing he’s caught, he sighed deeply in resignation. The participant removed the lead rope from his neck, gently putting his nose through the opening, flipping the strap behind his ears, snapping the clip shut.
Looking out across the pasture, you see pairs of humans with their horse partners. Most are standing next to their haltered horse waiting for the horse to move. Others appear to be concentrating on matching their movement, step by step with their horse, seeking to coordinate their speed, tempo, and pace to match their horse’s movement. The humans must be fully present with their horse, ignoring their human partner as well as the rest of their surroundings. Some are concentrating so hard, one might call them in a flow state.
People experiencing a flow state have intense focus; their attention is completely directed towards the task at hand, with minimal distractions. They also lose their self-consciousness, no longer worrying about failure or what others might think, wholly absorbed in the activity. Time seems to pass quickly, with the activity itself intrinsically rewarding, rather than seeking external validation or goals. Lastly, there is a feeling of effortlessness. The activity feels unforced and natural, even if it's challenging. Flow state, also known as "being in the zone," is a mental state where a person is fully immersed in an activity, with intense focus and enjoyment.
After 30 minutes or so, Paul and Pam shout out for the group to huddle up in a circle to share what they’ve experienced. Each pair removes the halter from their horses, who wander away slowly, continuing to graze.
Pam begins by asking the group, “What struck you?”
Morrigan speaks up first, “being in sync, anticipating what Mickey was going to do next was harder than I expected. As a lifelong horse owner and rider, I expected to easily match up with him. Instead, I found myself trying to catch up, not really matching his movements step for step”.
Pam then asked her, “what do you image made the task so difficult?”
Morrigan replied, “I’m guessing it’s because of my expertise got in the way of my being able to stay present and curious. Wow, I wonder where else I’m just looking for what I expect to happen, not open to other possibilities?”
Next Jayna jumped into the conversation. “Mo, I remember a time during one of our Prescott intensives at Chauncey Ranch where a similar experience happened to me. The assignment was to pick up all four hooves, one at a time. Now, I’ve picked up horse feet 1,000 times or more she laughed. So, when I moved into position with my back towards the horse’s head, bent over, and ran my hand down her leg, gently asking the horse to lift its’ foot I fully expected that she would respond to my cue and lift her leg. This time nothing happened. Her hoof stayed firmly planted on the ground, glued to the dirt. Laura was facilitating the activity, she suggested I re-group by taking a deep breath, get present and try again. I followed her advice. The second try the horse understood my ask, easily lifted its’ hoof.
“Thank You Morrigan and Jayna for your willingness to be vulnerable with this group, sharing those examples.” Stated Pam.
“One way to reflect on this experience is to recognize the difference between “doing” and “being” she continued. “Sometimes doing is all that is required of us in order to meet the goal and/or achieve success. Other times, we are being asked to be more fully present. Laura’s suggestion to Jayna, to take a deep breath, re-centered her, inviting Jayna to be instead of just do. See what I mean?” she inquired.
All the participants nodded their heads affirmatively. Pam then closed the activity by inviting the group to spend our remaining day and a half practicing being in sync with each other. Giggling, participants organically paired up again matching their steps with each walking back to the barn as if their legs were tied together in an old-fashioned sack race. Once again, our horse partners extended a simple invitation to be more fully present!