There is no secret so close as that between a rider and his horse.
Robert Smith Surtees
Let me start by stating something that I never (ever) would have imagined I would admit: I love horses. Well, love may be too strong a word, but the phrase deep appreciation and fondness is a fairly accurate representation. Definitely not suffering from equinophilia. In part because of their grace and beauty, but in reality it is there sense of ease and calm that I have come to emphatically embrace. And I owe all to our daughter, Rosie.
Rosie began her equine-destined journey nearly six years ago where, through a series of events, came to ride a grand old mare named Rio (RIP) at a local hobby farm. From those early sessions of being led around with the horse on a lead (not sure why the lead, I mean Rio was not running away anywhere, anytime soon), she continues to grow into an empathetic, kind, and self-aware young person. Makes a dad proud. Rosie has proudly become a horse girl (her self-categorization, not mine) with its typical stereotypes, characterizations, and memes of which she gladly welcomes. While I feel compelled to share the power of the equine species and its contribution to her development, this post is about me (it is my blog, after all).
At that point in our family equine experience, Rio was the closest I had come to engaging with a horse since my first childhood experience with a thirty year-old mare (whose name escapes me at the moment) nearly forty-five years ago at Happy Rolph’s Animal Farm (still in operation 50 years later). The memory tinged with smells, dust, and manure everywhere. I remember the calmness with which the mare peaked over the chain-link fence at the precocious four year-old laughing and making faces in return (I know a little too idyllic, right?). Little did I know that the quiet peace of that grizzled mare would offer itself again several decades later.
Without question, my journey of enjoyment of the equine species has brought more than just a shared passion with Rosie. Sure. As of this writing, we have watched everything (it feels like everything) on Netflix, Disney, and Prime that is horse-related, horse-theme, horse-adjacent (and of course, age appropriate); from Black Beauty to Flicka (both films) to Spirit: The Stallion of Cimarron. We have read all of the required horse-themed books including The Black Stallion (not to be confused with Black Beauty) and our favourite at the moment, Horse Girl. And I have to say, if there is a horse-themed program on the screen in the living room, I often find myself making a beeline to the couch beside Rosie.
Horses change lives. They give our young people confidence and self-esteem. They provide peace and tranquility to troubled souls, they give us hope.
Toni Robinson
Horses are at the same time simple and complex mammals that possess an energy or anima that horse lovers seem to understand and appreciate. I, too, am learning about the power of the horse; not power in the physical sense (although they are in that version of that word), but in the energetic or spiritual sense. No two horses, like humans, dogs or cats, are alike physically and in personality. Petting a horse, much like a dog or cat requires a calmness and softness in approach, voice, and touch. Horses (more learning!) are prey animals and are always on the lookout to avoid becoming a meal; an ancient survival instinct holdover, I am told. And while those enormously soft and fetching eyes are necessary survival tools, too, they also seem to have another unintended consequence: they pierce the soul.
The equine ocular device seems to be able to take in everything including the nervousness, fear, excitement, and joy of other animals (e.g., humans); they are ever aware. The sense energy and body language better than most mammals. Horses can be fickle and skittish, and if you desire the company of a horse to hang out one needs to exercise calm, patience, and a degree of equanimity (yep, that’s where that one came from). Approaching a horse with anger, frustration, and/or fear whether expressed through the voice or the body language is easily sensed and you would be lucky if they moved towards you in response. Quite the opposite will occur. Nearly almost every time.
A horse whisperer in action. Haha!
Oddly, I find myself literally craving the ease, peace, and calm that equine energy offers.
Weird, eh?
Or perhaps not so.
There exists a mounting body of readily available research to support my gut-level presumption. Numerous and highly respected psychological and psychiatric studies that extoll the benefits of equine (or horse) therapy for those suffering with PTSD. And naturally, the equine energy also provides immense benefits for those struggling with substance addictions. Organizations that support individuals identified to be on the ADS (autism disorder spectrum) are placing enormous resources into equine therapy. There is a current study looking at the effects of equine-therapy to help first responders heal, too. It seems only natural that for an individual without any identified mental and/or cognitive health challenges might benefit from the equine-effect.
Maybe it is the simple silence. Or lack of judgment. Or the equine-smile.
Power of the Muck
Surprisingly, the calm of equine energy is but one mental health benefit of hanging around the stables. Shoveling manure has its beauty, too. Yes, that centuries old necessary exercise for every horse owner has unintended benefits for the wielder of the stall fork.
Wait. Here me out.
After eagerly mucking out seven shelters and their associated paddocks one morning while waiting for Rosie to finish a lesson, I was asked (jokingly?) by another stable members what I was being paid. Paid to shovel poop? My retort was something like I should be grateful for the opportunity of the mindless and humbling act of shoveling and wheelbarrowing of horse poop for an hour. I could not think or reflect or worry about anything. Just a man, his shovel, a wheelbarrow, and nothing to think about. A meditative practice of sorts. It was rather difficult to carefully shovel the feces of another mammal and worry about work or other taxing issues simultaneously. Shoveling shit to help clear my mental shit. Perfect. If there exists a better metaphor, let’s hear it!
Indeed, millions and millions of people find similar emotional support from their pets every minute of every day. Perhaps equine-energy is similar to that of other domesticated animals. Free from judgment and hate, and (this is important for the Type A folks) offer you the last word. Every time. Maybe it is simply the sheer size of the horse; their massive physical presence. Whatever it is, it works for me. It brings me peace; offers ease. And not to be confused with aroma-therapy although I have grown fond of the smell of horse manure and sweat.
Selfishly, I look forward to accompanying Rosie to the stables every chance I get. And whether it is sitting in the paddock with one of the horses or simply shoveling their poop I have yet to find an environment that matches the perfect setting for rejuvenating the spirit.
JY
HORSE FACT: There is no such thing as a purely white horse. These animals are, in fact, gray. No kidding.
GETTING CURIOUS 