VISION
One of Kaleidoscope’s early programs was participating in the Midwest Student Outdoor Educators Conference. Amber and I loaded up Tigger and Al to head to the west side of the State. We enthusiastically filled the two- and half-hour drive with plans for the year, family challenges, and industry gossip.
Amber was starting her newly minted mental health practice, Bridgewater Support Services, llc. She was imagining a future filled with equine-assisted programs for individuals and groups. Her preferred population was working with youth, which she could offer in the evenings and weekends after she finished her shift in the hospital Emergency Room. Her vision was to build the business so that she could provide Equine-Assisted Mental Health Services full-time. I was delighted that Kaleidoscope programs were growing, so that I could offer her opportunities to make money, expand her network, and be a part of a variety of different experiences.
I was super excited about the year ahead. Already on the books for the year was creating a high quality video designed to introduce people to our work, being a vendor at both the Great Lakes Bay Regional and the Saginaw Valley Business Expo’s, a demonstration for a legislative bus tour coordinated by our county Convention & Visitors Bureau (with Schaefer & Bierlein sponsoring lunch), and most exciting was a Demonstration, Mundo and Nana called a “Deminar” in Puerto Rico.
We both were growing as practitioners, becoming clearer and more insightful with each client experience. I had figured out that my preferred target audience was adult learners. I loved the small group work, where one can provide opportunities for both inter- and intra- personal connections. Kaleidoscope’s tagline was “Building Relationships. Creating Possibilities.” Which perfectly represented the experiences we co-created with clients.
I hadn’t yet hired any consultants to help me map out the details, create action plans, and drill down into the specifics of a strategic plan. That would come later. Right now, I was too busy with the moving parts of running the farm, keeping the horses, dogs, cats, and other living things healthy, being a single Mom to my very social and active 8th grade and 11th grade daughters, all the while taking advantage of the momentum that was building around our unique selling proposition – equine-assisted learning.
Amber, being the more experienced horse hauler, easily handled my dually and horse trailer. We arrived at the designated campus location. It was down a dirt road, near their ropes course in a clearing of a wooded area near the Muskegon River. We were instructed to turn right down a steep hill then set up our roundpen in the open space at the bottom. There had been a lot of rain recently, common for April in Michigan, creating soft and mushy ground. We stopped at the top of the incline contemplating whether we should take the plunge to the bottom. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anyone from the college around to help us find an alternate location. With the program scheduled to start soon, we decided to set up where they suggested, at the bottom of the hill.
Amber slowly started inching downward, when she realized what a bad idea this was. She stopped abruptly, turned to me wide-eyed, and told me she thought she could make it to the bottom, but wasn’t sure we’d be able to make it back up. The ground was just too soft. We could hear dancing hooves banging as Tigger and Al were impatient with our stopping. They nervously shuffled, slightly rocking the trailer, adding to the tension of the moment.
Crap. Now what? We both took some deep breaths, weighing our options. We were sitting in an 8,000 lb. horse trailer with one 1,200 lb. horse and a 1,700 lb. draft horse. Total combined weight, approximately 11,000 lbs. Amber asked me to call Randy to find out what was the best gear to put the truck in. Thankfully, he answered right away and told us to put it in four-wheel drive low. We were outside the truck assessing things, trying to explain the situation to Randy. He suggested we start by seeing if we could back up.
We knew we had to get Tiggs and Al off the trailer first to lighten the load. I was scared to be the one required to hold them out in the middle of nowhere without any security, such as a roundpen or fence. Fearing they would take off and be gone forever or get hurt, I shared my concerns. Amber reassured me, building my confidence by reminding me how many times a day I led horses, declaring that I had never lost one. I awkwardly chuckled revealing to her that was not entirely true. In the early days, Tigger got away from me, though thankfully nothing bad happened. She laughed, stating that was several years ago, telling me I was a much more accomplished horse person now. Besides, we had no other choice. Seeing she was right, step-by-step we backed the horses off the trailer with ease. Grabbing both leadropes, I moved a few feet away to a grassy area for them to graze.
She jumped back in the cab to try backing up. The tires created deeper ruts in the muddy slope; chunks of dirt and stones flew everywhere when she hit the gas pedal. We called Randy back, explaining that simply backing up wasn’t going to work, seeking his advice now. He suggested we go forward to get more of a running start, then turn the wheel to get out of the existing grooves. This made sense, but was scary as the incline was steep.
He asked if we had anything we could wedge under the tires to give us traction. Horses in tow standing calmly at the end of their lead ropes, we surveyed the compartment in the back of the trailer which housed grooming tools, water buckets, and essential horse stuff like towels and fly spray. Nothing in that cubby that would be firm enough to help us. Next, we checked out the living quarters area which housed the roundpen, my portable sign we zipped tied to the roundpen panels, and all the horse-safe toys we’d be using for activities. Leaning on the wall near the bump-out were two pieces of pressed wood. We had them in the trailer to create a make-shift table to sign waivers and for spreading out our wisdom horse reflective card deck. We excitedly grabbed the 4’ x 4’ panels, jamming them on an angle under two of the rear tires.
I took Al’s lead rope from Amber, moving back to where there was more yummy emerging grass. Amber hopped back into the truck again and proceeded to drive forward, then reverse. The boards held and she gently moved the trailer up to flat ground. Mission accomplished! We tied Tigg and Al to the metal “U” loops on the side of the trailer. Fortunately, Amber had a lot of experience with tying horses and was confident they would both safely stand when neither of them challenged the lead rope or pulled back trying to get loose.
Just then an older model blue four-door Chrysler bounced up the dirt road. It was the Courtney from the Conference. We excitedly explained our harrowing adventure. She apologized for not realizing the area they recommended for us would not work. She authentically shared her gratitude that we figured it out and everyone was safe. Being an outdoor educator herself, she shared with us that she could relate to troubleshooting through unanticipated experiences in nature!
One key to our success was staying present for both ourselves and the horses. We never panicked or let our emotions interfere with the task at hand. The how we overcame this challenge solidified our trust in each other, which is there to this day. Throughout the experience, we had a shared vision, co-creating a clear understanding of what was possible and what wasn’t. On top of that, Amber and I followed our hill-side mess by delivering a stellar program that the Conference participants raved about!
Recall a time when something did not go as planned, a time when your vision for the future was interrupted by a situation you did not anticipate. What actions did you take?
What lessons did you learn from that experience that you apply in your life today?
If you were to offer someone advise about creating a vision, what one thing you would you share that is critical to support them as a visionary?