UNINTENDED CONSEQUENCES
Living together in a Y-camp ranch home meant sharing space, forcing experiential learning in real-time. Bunk beds, a limited number of bathrooms, and one large kitchen created an atmosphere that at times was familial – both loving and tense.
This was session one of a four-part, in-person five-day intensive. This inaugural event combined the participants in the Equine-assisted learning Masters, the mental health professionals earning a Master’s degree with an emphasis on equine-assisted services, and the post-masters participants in both learning and mental health.
A collection of people from across the US, including two people from Canada, and a person from Puerto Rico. Each was drawn to participate in this unique learner-centered, experientially imbedded program because of their desire to incorporate equine partners into their practice or business.
One of the pluses was having a caterer prepare our meals. On that first morning together, Joann, the chef, and her helped Marie, provided us with a pile of waffles dripping with butter, bacon and sausage from local butchers, a bouquet of brightly colored fresh fruit, and a variety of toasts made from homemade breads.
After our bellies were full, we gathered on random chairs and couches in the living area facing the huge stone fireplace. Paul welcomed all the students to our session focusing on facilitation. He used a flip chart and colored markers to review the pre-reads that included the theories behind sequencing activities, Kolb’s experiential learning cycle, and the effective use of metaphor.
Following Paul’s session, Laura, a mental health professional and me, a educator, helped the participants unpack the distinctions between equine-assisted mental health and equine-assisted learning. We emphasized the importance of staying within your scope of practice by offering a pencil and paper activity that supported the students in identifying their potential/actual clients, working through various scenarios.
Once we completed the theoretical framework activities it was time to practice what we learned through partnering with horses. The group of fourteen women and two men walked from the Chauncey Bunk house in the hot Arizona sun to the pasture. Crossing the dry wash, our cowboys boots kicked up some dust. We kept our eyes out for rattle snakes and other wildlife known to roam the area. We reached the barbwire fenced in pasture where 30 or so horses peacefully grazed.
The horses were a virtual kaleidoscope of colors. There were several paint horses with unique markings, patches of white on their rears and sides. Horses with socks and no socks on their legs, others with snips, stars, and blazes on their faces. Some were solid black and a few where white or flea-flicked. All gathered in a line on the fence admiring the herd; Paul extended the invitation for our first equine activity.
“We’re going to silently observe the herd’s interactions for the next 10 minutes. Use your journal to capture the subtleties of their behavior. For example, who moved who? Did that interaction affect other members of the herd? If so, how? I encourage you to notice what you notice – why does that matter and what is significant?” he concluded.
After 10 minutes, Paul circled us up to explore our reflections. Then, he invited us all to enter the pasture. One by one we walked through the open gate, gently moving horses aside that were trying to sneak out. The instructions this time were to meet and greet the horses, however we saw fit. Again, paying attention to our own choices, behaviors, and thoughts. Did the horse move away or come toward you, ears up, eyes bright with curiosity? He encouraged us to capture in writing the actions we found curious and explore what might lie behind that curiosity.
Following meet and greet’s debrief, Paul demonstrated his preferred way to tie the knot on the rope halter’s he had assembled. Then, Laura invited each of us to grab a halter, find a horse that it fit, halter the horse and then bring them to just outside the labyrinth. A labyrinth is a physical maze, a complex structure of paths or passages invites reflection, introspection, and self-discovery. Paul built this one with stone found on the ranch, boarders wide enough for both a horse and a human to navigate.
Once everyone had a horse haltered and were standing patiently by the labyrinth opening, Paul signaled that whoever wanted to go first should start. He suggested we enter with a question, leveraging the quiet reflective time while traveling the winding path to seek an answer.
I was just getting back into horses after many years away from them, so was not very confident in my abilities. Fortunately, my halter experience had gone smoothly, as the horse I selected, rather the horse that selected me (because he moved toward me when I set out in his direction) was named Nodak. Nodak, originally from North Dakoda, was willing and friendly.
Emily, Shannon, Mundo, Jayna, Laura, and Terri were all weaving around the twisting path when I stepped up with Nodak to enter the sacred space. I paused, took a deep breath, and thought to myself,
“Dear higher power. Please show me a lesson that will help me serve this program, these students, and the horses as we begin our new, exciting adventure with Prescott College.”
I asked Nodak to move forward, shoulders back, facing forward, confidently holding the leadrope. He took a few steps then stopped to grab a clump of grass growing between the rocks. I gently pulled on the lead, his head came up and we continued our journey. We made it a couple more steps when he found a barely visible tuft of grass, dropped his head to snag the little patch. Once again, I tugged his head and up it came.
It was clear everyone was trying to respectfully honor each others’ experience. Occasional small smiles would be shared as we passed next to each other on the twisted turns. You could hear the sound of crunching, as horses and humans walked the dry gravel-like path. The slightly peppery scent of desert sage floated in the soft breeze tickling your nostrils. Looking toward our desired goal, in the center hung a buddist’s multi-colored flag. The Buddhist flag's six colors symbolize key Buddhist concepts: blue for universal compassion, yellow for the Middle Way, red for the blessings of practice, white for the purity of Dhamma, and orange for wisdom. The sixth, combined band of all colors signifies the universality and unity of the Buddha's teachings.
A few more steps, a couple of turns, and down goes NoDak’s head. This time when I tugged on the leadrope, he refused to respond. I struggled, trying harder to get him to move with no success. Lifelong and experienced horseperson, Laura, happened to be right next to me one path over. I looked at her and whispered for help. She suggested I ask him to back-up instead of move forward. Moving him off the grass in a new way would earn his respect and engage him in what I was asking him to do.
I gently applied pressure putting my hand on his front shoulder with left hand, holding the leadrope in the other, I asked him to back. Success! I smiled, mouthed a “Thank You” to Laura and continued on our journey to the center. Now that I had established myself with him as a confident leader, NoDak didn’t try to eat anymore grass. I became more present, recognizing when he was thinking about dropping his head, anticipating his behavior before it happened.
Once everyone completed their trip to the center and back out, we thanked our horse partners, releasing them back into the wide open field across from the labyrinth. Then, we sat on the ground, circled up to share our experience. I shared how much I appreciated Laura’s help when I got stuck.
Terri said that was a very moving and powerful moment for her. I asked “why?” looking confused.
She explained that she was really nervous about being here. She was older than most of the students here and hadn’t been in school in a long time. She was a horse trainer who had a bachelor’s in sociology, so thought that maybe getting her masters and becoming a therapist would give her more job security. She shared that she was also a recovering addict, so felt drawn to help others who may have a similar background.
She went on to tell us that she thought everyone, especially the faculty, would be better at everything than she would be. When she saw me ask for help, it reminded her of her own expertise. She knew more about horses than a faculty member! She could hardly believe it!
My eyes welled up with tears of gratitude at her sincere and deeply moving admission. Her response answered the question I asked entering the labyrinth about a lesson that would serve me. It was that by being vulnerable, being myself, asking for help was just what someone else needed that day. I was enough and so what she.
Have you ever been simply being “you” and later learned that you’ve impacted others in either a positive or negative way? What were the circumstances around the incident that you remember?
Have you taken what you learned from that experience and applied it elsewhere in your life? If so how?
If there a situation in the future where you can also apply what you learned, what action(s) will you take to facilitate that being more likely?