CONGRUENCE

CONGRUENCE

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 dropped his head and returned to munching on the grass.  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 halter opening, flipping the strap behind his ears, snapping the clip shut.

Looking out across the pasture, a sea of 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.  To mirror the movements, 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 consider 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 all 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 the mares’ 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 as if pulled up by a rope.

“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!                                   

Recall a time when you performed a task poorly because you mismatched your expectation of how simple the task would be?

How have you taken the lessons from that experience and applied them to other situations?

Is there an event or experience in your future where aligning your intentions and actions could have a significant impact? 

What  can you invite into your life to support the results you desire?

AMBITION

AMBITION

An early opportunity for learning several lessons came when Stacie, my co-facilitator and equine specialist and I, were working with a group who were employed by a non-profit care agency.  We were hired by a group of women that included management, marketing, nurses, administrative, and social workers.  They contracted with us to help them improve their communication and become a team. 

Eager to practice our new learning modality of equine-assisted learning, often led me to find creative ways of finding clients.  In this case, this organization did not have the budget to hire us at a rate that we considered appropriate.  So, I charged them the full rate for the program, then donated back half of that amount to their foundation.  A win-win as we were able to build awareness of EAL through a very visible local organization.  They were given an opportunity to spend the day together, improving their communication, identifying blind spots, and increasing their self-awareness.

We rented an indoor horse arena at a local stable and hauled in one of Stacie’s young geldings, Phancy, to join my boy, The Alchemist, and my draft mare, Tigger.  They were perfect four-legged facilitators, adding diversity in their ages, size, and gender.  Phancy was young, energetic, and curious about everything.  Al, was a more mature gelding, so more settled, though still willing to engage and play with Phancy.  Tigger, our lead mare, was twice the size of Phancy and had a confidence that was palpable.  When she moved quickly, one could almost feel the ground move because of her size and intention.    

The morning was pretty low-key.  We started with the goal of building relationships with the horses and helping our humans get comfortable with being around these large animals when they were at liberty.  We also laid a foundation of connection between the participants and us, the facilitators, by sharing some insights we gained from their anonymous pre-assessments. 

From the assessments, Stacie and I identified that there was a culture of distrust in the organization.  A classic “silo” situation where individual departments believed they had to defend their turf.  On the surface, our participants “played nice” with each other.  “Playing nice” is pretending everything is okay, that you’re in total agreement.  This behavior undermines outcomes which can lead to distrust, conflict, and wasted resources.  Better, is a culture that supports vulnerability and having hard conversations, leading to healthy conflict, healthy relationships, and healthy organizations.  

After lunch, we invited the group to do a classic activity called Obstacles.  It’s an activity where you ask participants, using horse-safe objects, to build a path for them to move horses through, in, over, or however they define the course. Except, when we described the activity, we forgot to specify the “path” part and only spoke about building an obstacle. 

Because we invited them to create an obstacle, that’s exactly what they did.  Literally.  They piled everything we gave them, PVC pipes, noodles, cones, buckets all in a big heap in the center of the arena.  They created the obstacle, then all 12 of them stood in a circle looking at it.  Stacie and I stared at each other with a questioning look of “what the heck do we do now?”  The group was not engaging with the horses, just standing there staring at that huge pile of stuff.  This was NOT the outcome what we envisioned at all! 

One big problem was we didn’t have a clear ending to the activity.  When an obstacle course is created, the group tries to move the horse(s) through the path.  After several tries, successfully or unsuccessfully,  it makes sense to end the exercise.  Then debrief by exploring the participant’s insights and take-aways.  In this case, they all just stood there while the horses milled around wondering what was going on. 

So, we shrugged our shoulders, trusted the process, and approached the group.   We asked them about their creation. They responded that they did what we told them, which was build an obstacle.  Which they did.  Then, we inquired about what the obstacle represented.  They said things they couldn’t get over.  Okay, we said, that makes sense. 

Our next question hit paydirt; we asked how they defined their success?   Several shared their definitions for success, which varied greatly.  At this point, our equine partners started trotting around the arena, responding to the heightened energy created through their conflicting answers.  The horses were sensitive to the increased tension created by the different definitions of success and the assumptions by the participants that they were all on the same page.  Likely, a similar scenario played itself out at their office, where suppressing true feelings was reinforced in the organization.  The participants weren’t curious, they were clueless. 

Definitions of what success and barriers to it, or obstacles, were different for each person because most of them worked independently, even though they all worked for the same organization.  We revealed this insight, including the horses’ physical responses to their incongruence.  Identifying that this group did not have a shared vision helped them acknowledge that they sometimes worked at cross-purposes, undermining each other.

The recognition of a lack of a common vision led to rich dialogue about their interdependence. They explored how the social worker’s definitions of success, as well as their obstacles, influenced the marketer’s definition, the nurses’, and the administrators’, as well as the leaders’ definitions.

I stated in the opening paragraph that this group hired us to help them become a team.  They were under the assumption that we would do just that, make them a “team,” in a one-day workshop. They wrote about their disappointment on their evaluations; because, while they learned a lot, they did not feel they had become a team. 

Building a team is a long-term, ongoing, and evolving process.  A one-day workshop can be a good start, creating learning breakthroughs that support team development.  From this experience forward, I became VERY clear about expectations and deliverables.  I incorporated a question in my pre-assessment asking what outcomes the clients expected to achieve, inquiring about the changes in behavior they desired to see.  I then shared the results of that question with the whole group at the beginning of the day, allowing me to debunk any false expectations before we even got started.  This (in the words of my friend, Paul Smith) “created the container”, establishing a clear contract. 

Staying focused on leveraging what was right in front of us, we found that this groups’ choice to build an obstacle with no clear definition of success was just what they needed to learn that day.  By staying open to outcomes and curious, Stacie and I learned to trust the process, confidently moving into the situation presented.  Most significantly, the horses provided us with a physical response to the tense feelings by shifting from walking to running around the arena. 

When you reframe a mistake, such as poor activity instructions, into a learning opportunity, your new perspective offers insight and inspiration, not defeat or shame. Because of this experience and many other “happy accidents”, we painted on the inside arena wall, “What would you attempt if you could not fail?”   

Recall and describe a time when your ambition met with success or disappointment.

What did you learn from that experience?

Have you transferred those lessons into other parts of your life?  How? 

What would it look life if you applied those lessons to additional aspects of your life and/or work?

CHAOS

CHAOS

We, my co-facilitator Stacie, and I begin each EAL experience with a “meet and greet” of people and horses.  The horses start the day by settling into my indoor arena, where we let them loose to sniff, roll, and get comfortable.  While the horses do their thing, the humans were invited to a continental breakfast and given the opportunity to observe the four-legged facilitators they’ll be partnering with throughout the program.  This turn-out routine is usually pretty uneventful as we do it every time we bring horses and humans together. For the humans, on the other hand, this is typically a new experience and their first introduction to a horse herd at liberty interacting with each other and their space.

While drinking coffee and munching on apple strudel, this group of fourteen adult educators curiously looked through the large conference room windows into the indoor arena where Stacie and I are releasing our herd.  Kaleidoscope was contracted by the Gerstacker Fellowship program to deliver a day and half equine-assisted learning experience (EAL). “Gerstackers” are Michigan educators who apply to be part of a select group of premier teachers and administrators for a leadership development program. 

Just outside the conference room in the arena we’ve created a space that separates the horses from the full arena (66 x 144 arena) by using a portion of my roundpen.  This configuration allows participants the option of participating without requiring physical contact with the horses.  Picture a “U” of brown aluminum 6’ panels chained together with horses on one side of the panels, separating where humans can stand safely on the other side and a gate to allow access into the horses’ space.

We first released Tigger, our beautiful flea-flicked, 18-hand draft mare.  Next, Diva or “D”, a stunning black former show quarter horse.  The two girls trot around appreciating the freshly dragged arena footing.  Athletic D added a few bucks for good measure.  Next, we brought out our miniature hinney (donkey mom and horse dad) named C-Red, who joins Diva in the dirt-kicking excitement.  Then, we dropped into the mix the two newest members of the herd, Poncho and Cisco.  These two miniature horses have shared large open pastures with our other horses, though they have not yet experienced the indoor arena together.  The newbies decide it’s best to be at one end of the arena, while the other three (Tigger, D, and C-Red) clump at the opposite end.

Last in are our other two miniature horses, Mickey and Minnie.  Mick & Minn are part of the original herd with Tiggs, D, and C-Red.  The original herd has been together in this space countless times helping humans.  With the addition of Mickey and Minnie, a new sorting started taking place and quickly turned ugly.  The horses’ excitement turns to something darker as the herd began biting, intentionally kicking at each other, their frenzied running stirred up a lot of dust and dirt.  The energy was intense!   

I quickly looked at Stacie with surprise and concern.  She was calmly evaluating the situation.  Then, she and I both turned to the conference room windows, finding our educators wide-eyed, with mouths gaping.  This was their first introduction to equine-assisted learning and clearly not what they (or we) were expecting!  We could feel their fear; they must be asking themselves, “what, in holy hell, did I get myself into today?” 

Stace and I watched the horses intently for several minutes assessing the best change to make.  My first thought was to remove the last ones in, Mickey and Minnie.  Things didn’t get crazy until we added them.  Additionally, they were the ones being the most aggressive, especially towards C-Red.  Stacie, with her decades of equine experience, recognized this would be the wrong choice.  The right decision was to remove Poncho and Cisco because the other five have an established community. The chaos we were witnessing was a result of the smaller arena space (as opposed to the pasture) combined with two new additions to the herd. 

You see, horses create a hierarchy, with a lead and then a ranking that follows.  When new herd members are introduced – in this case to the arena – there was a new sorting of their social order. It would not be safe to invite humans into this space, unless the herd figured themselves out and quieted down, which it appeared they are not going to do quickly. 

After calmly consulting with each other on what to do, Stacie and I agreed on removing Poncho and Cisco.  We carefully went into the area behind the roundpen panels to catch and halter our newest herd members.  As we led them out of the arena, the rest of the herd instantly settled down.  One could sense a collective sigh of relief from the conference room; because the five remaining horses were now just standing, heads lowered, patiently waiting to meet their human companions. 

Once we put Poncho and Cisco out in the pasture, we turned our attention to the Gerstackers.  We invited our educators to join us outside the roundpen in the arena, to bring them closer to the horses physically.  I started by asking if what they just witnessed with the horses reminded them of anything similar in their classrooms or buildings?

Stacie followed up with, “I’ve had the experience of creating an alternative education program and this scenario reminds me of when a new kid joins the class.”

Heads started nodding in the affirmative.  One of the participants asked “why didn’t’ you remove the last two horses? Things seemed pretty calm until you added them.”

Stacie explained she had witnessed this sorting of herds many times.  She knew from experience that the established herd would calmly settle once the newbies were removed from the mix.    

Our choice to remove ANY horses was still a choice.  We made the decision to remove Poncho and Cisco based on clear program goals.  It would not have been “wrong” to let the herd sort themselves out in real-time.  There’s a possibility the lessons from witnessing those interactions could have been profound.  We decided that the goals for the day would be better served by partnering with the established herd.

A tall well-groomed man confidently added, “So because you understood horse herds, you were able to see the simplest solution to what appeared to the non-educated as a very chaotic and dangerous situation.” 

“Yup.” I replied.  Just as someone who is familiar with the context of an exchange has deeper insight into the root cause of the problem.  A person is more likely to pull the right switch to solve the problem if they have past experience coupled with clear goals.  A third element to consider is my trust of Stace as the equine specialist, without that, I could have made the wrong choice leading to a very different outcome.”

So, in the first 20 minutes of a day and half program, our participants were offered the opportunity to become self-aware by reflecting on what they would have done had the chaotic situation been in their classroom or building.  They increased their connection with each other through this shared experience, moving from fear to relief.  Their trust and confidence in the facilitators increased significantly.  Lastly, we provided them with an experientially engaging learning experience, which thankfully, continued throughout our time together!

Walking into the conference room to grab my last cup of coffee and Stacie her diet Mountain Dew, we turned to each other with knowing smiles.  In unison we whispered to each other, “you can’t make this shit up!”

Recall a time where you were in a chaotic situation.  How did you respond?  How did others respond?

What is the lesson you from that situation that you can apply to your life today? Where are you putting that lesson into practice?

Can you envision a future where you’ve applied this lesson to the point that it has shifted your paradigm and become your “new normal”?

 What will you do, think, feel, or believe in order to create less chaos in your life?

ASKING FOR HELP

ASKING FOR HELP

Can you tell by this picture that the young lady on the end of the lead rope, the woman in the blue shirt, is asking Mickey, the miniature horse, to move forward? Clearly, her “ask” isn’t getting her the results she wanted.  Partnering with equines creates an opportunity to become aware of when we are incongruent with our intentions and our actions.  Our four-legged facilitators respond to the physical request, not the intention. 

Our participant, recognizing that Mickey was not moving with her, made another request, this time to her fellow classmates.  She asked her classmate (the young lady near Mick) to help. During this simple activity of leading a horse, there are many choices being made.  Some of those decisions we can witness and others we can only surmise.  The inner dialogue of our three participants might have sounded something like this:

*The Leader (student in blue top):  How important is it that I move this horse? What does the horse represent in my life?  Do I REALLY care if I lead him?  What will my peers, all the other students watching this, think of me if I don’t get this horse to move?  What the %*! am I doing wrong?  If I ask for help, is that a sign of weakness and self-doubt?

*The Helper: I care and want to contribute, yet do I know how to help? If I help, now I’m putting myself in front of all my peers and I might make the situation worse – is it worth that risk?  Maybe she should just pick another horse, or let Mickey go. If I help, am I undermining the Leader’s ability to problem solve?   

* Mickey: Does this human even know what she wants? I’m confused and getting mixed signals… I’d rather just eat this yummy grass.  Oh, no, there’s another human now involved…wait!  This is a good thing, this human knows how to help me understand what I’m asked to do.  Whew!  Glad she came along and cleared things up for me! 

Yes, the above thoughts are just speculations and assumptions.  Regardless of how accurate they are, we can all agree that recognizing and listening to your inner dialogue increases your self-awareness.  The first step in seeking guidance or support is recognizing that asking for help is an option; this indicates you’ve shifted your perspective from a stuckness to taking action with your new awareness.  Now that you’re informed, you can ask for support. The next steps in your decision-making are sizing up the situation and selecting whether or not to take action, who can you trust, etc.

For humans, the congruency of intention and movement can depend on many factors.  To help us understand, let’s contrast the differences between child and adult asking behavior. Picture a youngster throwing a tantrum.  There’s lots of screaming, tears, maybe a little leg kicking, throw in a few fists swinging wildly back and forth and you’ve got a physical request for something different than is currently happening.  The adult recognizes that the child is making an “ask” albeit a noisy and immature one.  They are a child, after all, so their behavior is their learning how to ask, it is their way of practicing.  If the adult responds by rewarding this behavior, granting the request, they are much more likely to see more tantrums in the future.  Now, if the adult can ignore the behavior, despite the noise and embarrassment, and deny the request, they are reinforcing that tantrums don’t work as a method of asking.  The child’s tantrum didn’t move the adult.  Over time, the kid will start to figure this out and learn what does work to get what they want.

Adult humans, on the other hand, often try to anticipate what they “think” the other human would like as a response.  This anticipatory behavior is most evident when there is a power dynamic impacting the relationship.  Imagine an organizational setting with a boss, a manager, and a line worker.  The boss directs the manager to respond to a customer complaint by instructing the manager to make a phone call to the dissatisfied customer.  The manager agrees, because he/she/they know that is what the boss wants to hear.  The manager doesn’t like to make these kind of icky calls, so they direct the line worker to call the customer. 

What happens next depends on the culture of the organization.  Does the line worker feel safe enough to tell the boss that the manager deflected the task and gave them the assignment? Or do they just complain to everyone else in the company?  If the boss finds out the manager didn’t follow through with his/her/their request, does the boss care that the manager didn’t follow through because the job got done? A variety of outcomes can positively and/or negatively impact relationships and future interactions depending on the choices of the participants.           

Power dynamics impact horses too because a hierarchy exists within all horse herds.  Toss flakes of hay into a pasture with horses and you’ll quickly discover which horses are at the top of the hierarchy because they are the ones munching on the hay.  Lower herd members may be pushed out or have to wait until the more powerful members are finished.  Call horses in from a field to the barn after a snowstorm, and the amount of white stuff covering some horses backs tells you they were not allowed in the run-in by the horses higher up the pecking order.  

The hierarchy is not stagnant, rather it is fluid and can be a changing process as individual horses challenge the horse above them.  Adding or removing members can also invite re-ordering.  The position in the horse herd is important, determining who eats first or who eats at all if there are limited resources.

Who moves who matters to humans too because resources, such as time, money, etc. can either be wasted or leveraged depending on the situation. A top-down power structure does not invite difference or diversity and is more interested in authority and control than learning and growing.  If the culture of an organization, group, or family is not nurturing and does not invite healthy conflict, then all the participants will typically suffer from the lack of a safe place to be fully present, share differing points of view, inviting learning. 

The linking between intention and action, in both ourselves and others, is influenced by many factors. Self-reflection as a conscious practice becomes a guiding light, a torch, which helps us to overcome the barrage of outside messaging that can influence and undermine our confidence, inclination to try, or willingness to ask for help. 

When we suspend the desire for a certain outcome, staying open to the  results that emerge, we are invited to respond to that outcome however best it serves us.  This skill of staying open to outcomes, with the conscious use of self builds as you develop the muscle.  The good news is we all have the capacity and ability to get better and stronger through practice, reflection, and effective feedback.

Who moved who in our example with Mickey?  The first student, the leader, moved her peer who accepted the invitation to help.  Ultimately, the helper working with the leader moved Mickey gently forward.  Hopefully, what moved for both these humans, as well as the rest of the Northwood class that was watching, was an increased understanding of choice, agency, and the opportunity to learn in safe spaces.   

Reflect on your past choices, where and when did you ask for help?  What were the conditions present and/or absent that allowed you to make the choice to ask for help? 

Identify a current situation where you are not asking for help.  Reflect on what is stopping you.

What can you change in order to ask?