Wild Horses

On my way back from Colorado, I decided to swing up through the Black Hills. I'd never been there and thought I'd be a tourist for a bit. What I expected was some beautiful scenery and an overwhelming amount of tourist opportunities. I wasn't disappointed in that regard, but I found it to be so much more.

It was October, so the bulk of the tourist season was over. There was a crispness in the air, color in the trees and that feeling of aliveness that one often feels in the Autumn. I made the required stop at Mt. Rushmore and then went on to the Crazy Horse Monument. This, I felt, was so much more impressive. More massive in scope, and somehow more massive in energy. It felt like something was coming to life, again, that had long lain dormant. That was in contrast to the old white guys on Mt. Rushmore. Not to insult our former Presidents, but seeing their chiseled faces up on a mountain just seemed wrong.

Crazy Horse, on the other hand, was a part of this land. It seems fitting that he is springing to life once again, straight out of that land and rock. I thought his likeness was gorgeous -- if it is his likeness. No one is exactly sure what he looked like, since there were no photos taken of him. Not to my knowledge, anyway. But the representation of him is splendid. Big.

I decided to take a detour south, to the Black Hills Wild Horse Sanctuary, outside of Hot Springs, South Dakota. It turned out to be a very magical day.

It, too, was a crisp, sunny October day when I drove the few miles out towards nowhere, turned onto a long gravel road and arrived at the little Visitors' Cabin at the Sanctuary. It being late in the season, I got lucky. In lieu of the standard tourist bus ride through the designated route, I was treated to a special tour, compliments of one of the women staff members. She loaded me and a very nice Wisconsin couple into her truck and off we went.

Thousands of acres of land, bought with the express purpose of giving wild horses a place to live and remain wild. Dayton Hyde, the man with the vision, started this enterprise with his own money because he felt the wild horses he saw penned up deserved a place to be wild and free, again. It has grown over the years, but still remains a product of that vision and passion.

We bumped and thumped along, catching glimpses of various herds, surrounded by rock canyon walls and the Cheyenne River. And nothing. There aren't many places I am, ever, where you don't hear noise. The only things I could hear were the wind, birds, the sound of hoof beats if we got too close, and the whispers of the Ancestors who once occupied this land.

It remains a sacred place to the Native Americans. They gather each year for their Sun Dance right in the middle of this vast horse-land. Coexistence at its finest.

Arriving back at the Visitors' Center, I mentioned that I had just completed training in Equine Massage. I was asked if I would help one of their very aged mares, who now lived near the Center. Would I??

Down in Colorado in training, we worked on the old horses one day. I felt so privileged to do this. Their bones creaked, their eyes held the wisdom of the ages and the soft Colorado breezes made me feel how much of a gift I was being given.

These horses were, for the most part, very well taken care of. They had probably known many owners, many homes, many jobs and now were in retirement.

The horses at the Wild Horse Sanctuary were just about the antithesis of this. Talk about contrasts! They had lived free, been rounded up, stuck in pens somewhere, and then brought here to South Dakota. These were indeed the lucky ones.

Wild horses seem intertwined with our sense of being American, of who we are as a people. In theory, anyway, we idealize freedom and will fight to the death to defend it. What could represent freedom better than a wild horse? Even non-horse lovers seem to identify with them.

So, here I was, running my hands over a "wild" horse -- a mare who'd had her share of babies and was now full of arthritis. She deserved to spend her days in the sun, in as much comfort as could be managed, and peace. What every living thing deserves.

I didn't want to leave her. I could sense I was bringing her some relief and for that, she was so grateful. I couldn't make her young again. I couldn't get her to run free amongst those canyons, again. Not in this physical body, anyway. But in her mind, I could imagine, that's exactly where she was. What a gift she gave to me that day. Magic.

Often, on a day when the noise, and pollution, and development, and people, make me sad and crazy, I think about those horses -- running wild and free. And, in my mind, at least, I know a bit of that freedom. I run with them, and feel the wind.

Empathy

I am not a psychic -- although I think everyone has a little psychic ability. What I am is sensitive. Often overly sensitive, like to a fault. I am quite thin-skinned when it comes to criticism, judgments, perceived slights, imagined expectations of others...I can be my own worst enemy.

This sensitivity, as with most things, can be a blessing and a curse. The curse part is that stuff I just wrote: I can be defensive, afraid of being hurt and withdrawn. This is the posture of someone who is acting in a self-protective manner.

The blessing part? I tend to be extraordinarily aware of my surroundings. This does not imply super powers. It is more a reaction, or a symptom, of concerning myself with what (and who) feels safe and what does not. It is a blessing because I think I perceive things many people miss -- maybe because they're just not all that interested, or because they have no need, or whatever their personal make-up may be.

That perception makes life so much more interesting! Paying attention is delightful when you pick up on things perhaps others are missing: a small bird singing, a friendly smile from a stranger, the way the sun shines on a small patch of greenery. Paying attention can also be a big pain in the behind. Noticing the ugliness and cruelty of our world around us is painful. It is so wasteful. Then, I would just as soon not notice so much. Maybe that's why so many people are walking around totally tuned out.

I consider myself to be empathic. This is a quality beyond sympathy, which is sort of an understanding of a certain perspective. Empathy...well, it's like you are feeling what others are feeling. All of a sudden, you are totally identifying with whatever, or whomever, you have empathy.

I think perhaps this sensitivity, plus the ability to process a whole lot of information at once (of which I'm not particularly aware), produces a feeling, a certain knowing. Sometimes I just know things. Like I said before, I am not psychic -- not anymore than the average person, anyway. Absorbing information, emotion and other indicators like a sponge, can be overwhelming. Especially if you think that it's all your stuff.

It takes time and practice to figure out what is yours and what you're picking up from around you. Sometimes you just have to let it pass through you, or around you, and let it go. I'm working on that.

And sometimes, you invite it in, try it on and try to figure out what to do with it. See if you can do any good with it -- help someone. The tempation to try and fix others' pain can get you in a whole lot of trouble. It's easier with horses than with people. Learning to step back and listen is a good place to start, but you cannot get sucked into someone else's misery. Some are determined to take you down with them!

Anyway...I've certainly come to appreciate the sensitivity of a horse. Here is a creature so highly tuned to its surroundings, it will notice a leaf is out of place from one day to the next. That sensitivity to their surroundings is for self-preservation. It helps keep them alive. Noticing something different makes them extremely aware of change. That big black spot in the woods? Could be a critter waiting to eat me!

Horses are also empathic. They get what you are feeling. This, too, is a form of their self-protection. How cranky is my rider today? What is she lying about? Why is she pretending to be fine when she is not? They can handle fear -- it's indecision and pretense that makes them nervous. They like things straightforward.

When I started touching horses in massage school, sometimes I'd get pictures. Or a story would come to mind. Or, I'd know how the horse was feeling that day. Nothing supernatural about it; I was just picking up a lot of details -- details I probably couldn't itemize, but added together gave me impressions. These impressions helped me know where it hurt. Maybe I just knew to go to a certain part of his neck that day. Or it was in the way he was holding his head. I don't know -- I don't analyze it that much. I just accept it. My imagination? Okay.

One day I was working on a horse and I just had the impression he was so unhappy. I didn't know his background, didn't know what he was used for by his owner. The feeling was nearly overwhelming. I tried to do what I could for him. He certainly hadn't been abused, or mistreated in any way. But that feeling of great unhappiness clung to him, and then to me. It still does, to this day, years later.

I learned a bit of his story. Turns out his great unhappiness was probably due to having the wrong job. Horses need and like having a job -- makes them get up on the right side of their stall every day! When they have the wrong job, when they're being asked to do something their owner wants them to do, disregarding their abilities and make-up, they can be very unhappy about it. That unhappiness shows up in many ways. Some get depressed, some start bucking, some just get mean, some endure. Some adapt, some don't.

I don't know if this horse kept that job, or that owner. What it taught me was to pay attention to how they feel. We can work on muscle aches and pains, provide proper nutrition and exercise, and it still won't necessarily make a happy horse. Do some people care if their horse is happy? Hopefully, most do.

Sometimes circumstances in life, for people and horses, is that we must just do what we need to do. That's just a fact. We try to compromise, in order to survive and endure and hopefully thrive. Feelings cannot always be taken into account.

But, wouldn't the world be a nicer place if they could?

Touched by A Horse

The exchange between horse and human is not an equal one. To my way of thinking, the human gets a lot more than it gives. When being ridden, that horse has to put up with this creature on its back, trying to balance it like I would a child on my shoulders. It must learn to tolerate a big chunk of metal in its mouth, and try to anticipate that silly human's desires. Where does she want me to go? Does she know she's telling me to stop and go at the same time? Why does she sit so crooked? All this for a carrot? Jeepers...just leave me alone and we'll do fine!!



The horse is a very generous being. That generosity is often mistaken for stupidity, while I think it is just the nature of this four-legged to give. As I've said before, it's heart is huge. That huge heart is good for endurance and stamina and speed, but it's also great for opening up to those poor unfortunates, humans.



Horses seem to know the difference between a child that needs taking care of, and an idiot. Put a child on a horse and the horse takes care of the child. It will often (not always) sedately walk around, being very mindful of its responsibility. Put an idiot on a horse's back and the horse knows right away there's an idiot up there. Forgiving beings that they are, idiocy alone doesn't demand sharp lessons. Idiocy, combined with arrogance, cruelty, aggressiveness and/or recklessness, can get that human taught a very quick lesson. Being an idiot, however, those lessons are often not learned -- not even recognized.



Every horse has its story.

Unlike dogs and cats, who might have 1, 2 or 3 owners in a lifetime, horses seem to be the most peripatetic of 4-leggeds...their lives are often a journey that takes them hither and thither. Many times an owner has no idea of the history of their horse. They might know where he/she came from last, and maybe the time before. When you are able to trace their history, you might find that your horse is more well-traveled than you. Born in Kentucky, sold to a first owner in Ohio, then off to South Dakota, back to Illinois. Those are the lucky ones -- they've escaped the "kill lot" which leads to a can of dog food.

Such is the life of a horse, sometimes. They can also be born and raised on a family farm and know only one or two owners. Horses may have many jobs in a lifetime. They need jobs, just as we do. And they need jobs for which their body type and temperament and age suit them.

Too often horses are asked to do the wrong job. Owners get the notion that a horse should be able to do what they want them to do. This is just not always true. The horse tells them, loudly and clearly, sometimes, that this ain't gonna work! Sometimes they quietly endure, and try their best to give what is asked of them.

For example, the owner who buys this horse she falls in love with and thinks "Oh! Here is the horse that I will take to shows and win blue ribbons with, in...fill in the blank." It could be Dressage, or Jumping, or Reining, or Barrel Racing, or any of a great variety of disciplines. Many horses are versatile enough, and athletic enough, that they'll give it a shot. Maybe they'll perform well; maybe they won't.

Owners who are rich enough just sell the one that doesn't get that blue ribbon and buy another one. Owners who are stuck, and may be astute enough to let the horse have the job they are designed to do, say "Well, he'll never be a winner at cutting cows, but I love him and he'll be a great 4-H horse for my daughter." Or, something along those lines.

So, the body of a horse, just as in humans, will carry with them the effects of use, abuse and ill-use. Asked to hold their head in a way their body is not designed to accommodate for too long, will lead to big muscle knots and pain. Their entire body's carriage is affected. What might appear to be stiffness and soreness in one area, may in fact be initiated in an entirely different area.

I've certainly learned this from the body work I've had done on myself. I've discovered that hip pain came from a knee injury, which then resulted in ankle pain, and so on. All our parts make up a whole. What affects one part, affects that whole. You must treat the whole, as well as the specific area.

Which brings me back to horse massage, or properly called Equine Sports Massage Therapy. Massages don't replace going to the doctor for humans. Massages don't replace the need for proper veterinarian care in horses. It is part of a package of wellness, that works in conjunction with farriers, veterinarians, acupuncture, acupressure, chiropractic -- mostly anything that is done to a human can be done to a horse. And is.

Safety and comfort are two top priorities for a horse. Massage addresses the comfort -- maybe even sometimes the safety. When anyone puts their hand on a horse, they are getting an opportunity to hear their story. What is causing them discomfort? How can that be addressed to relieve that discomfort?

Most of the time, horse owners and riders are doing things to their horse: leading them, feeding them, grooming them, riding them, training them. How often do they take time to quietly be with their horse?

Giving a horse a massage is a lovely way to be with your horse -- and you don't have to be a trained equine sports massage therapist to do it. A few simple techniques can be a great source of bringing comfort to both of you.

And, if you're still and quiet, maybe you will hear the horse's story. They all have one, just as we do. In touching, you will be touched. You will feel, and you will hear. You will be touched by the divinity that is a horse.

Touching Horses

That first day, I had no idea what to expect. What I found was that I was in a small group of women, all younger than I, and all experienced with horses to varying degrees. One was a Texas cowgirl, the real thing. She'd grown up doing rodeo. Another was a former equine gymnast, who, with her boyfriend, was starting their own small ranch. The third was a young woman who was driving her horse trailer around the country and could do everything from her own farrier work to training horses to telling tall tales.

And me.

It occurred to me that this was one of those times that it was a good thing I didn't know what I didn't know. I did know I could learn, and that finally I had a chance to join that elite club of horsepeople. I wanted to be viewed as serious -- that I was truly there to learn more about this marvelous creature, the horse. But I didn't want to be viewed as some fool, starry-eyed and unrealistic.

What I didn't realize at the time that it was also a terrific way to start learning about horse people. They, of course, come in different shapes, sizes and ages, too. They also come with a wide range of what they know and don't know about horses. I found that in some cases I knew more than they did. I guess that book learnin' ain't so bad!

There are some general truths when it comes to horse people: Ask ten horse people for an opinion, and you'll get eleven answers; Never be critical of someone's horse -- it's personal; There really is something mystical about women and horses; Being a horse person is a lifestyle. Those are just a few.

You have to have your own experiences. Until you have your own experiences you have to rely on the experiences of others. Take it all in and use what makes sense to you. If one thing doesn't work, try another. Above all, be safe...if you even know what that means.

You don't have any idea how many ways you can be unsafe until a horse shows you. As a wise man told me: "Try to imagine the most impossible thing that a horse can do. Eventually you will see them do it and a lot more you couldn't imagine." This usually involves the horse's safety and well-being, as well as your own. When people tell you "don't do that," listen to them. Wisdom does indeed come from experience. Real wisdom comes from using others' experiences to prevent bad things from happening, so that you don't have to experience it yourself.

My instructor, Sue Mazlum, has been doing this for many years. Her husband had recently passed away and now she was on her own in this business. What I saw first was a woman who very clearly loved horses. Her objective was to pass on her experience, her love, and her skills -- all with the goal of making horses' lives healthier and more comfortable.

Another objective, I believe, is to just make people more knowledgeable about horses. In the years since, I am often surprised by how little people know about their horses. Granted, it is an ongoing process and there is a whole lot to learn. Unfortunately, you tend to learn a lot when the horse gets sick or injured. So, consider yourself fortunate if you're ignorant!

I knew that Sue was a woman from whom I could learn a lot, even beyond the parameters of this class. Here, watching the sun set behind the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, I just wanted to hang around and soak it all in. After class would end in the afternoons, Sue was kind enough to just talk about horses to me. Her "classroom" was located at a big stable. There were all kinds of horses being worked and she would tell me about some of them.

We discussed conformation (how a horse is put together), temperament, riding, ownership -- lots of horse stuff. Sometimes it wasn't even about horses, just about life. I loved it.

Those younger women in my class were all good students, and had come to class for different reasons. They would take this information and their newly-learned skills back to their lives. But, I sensed that for me, this was something different. I was in a mist of delight. I was in a life-altering time of my life, and I knew it. I was being transformed. I couldn't go back.

I was learning how to touch a horse and see with my fingers. I was learning how to trust myself in what I found. I was learning that these horses, young and old, big and not-so-big, were absolutely, amazingly sensitive.

They all had their stories, and in touching them I started to hear some of those stories.