Tuesday, July 22, 2008

An Exploration of Procrastination

Cartoon by Dave Walker


Several years ago I facilitated a creativity group based on Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way: A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity. One week we came upon the concept of “perfectionism” and the author’s insights on how it impacts our lives and sabotages us. Until that point I hadn’t given much thought to the negative aspects of the word or how its meaning works on us.

Ms. Cameron describes perfectionism as a means of self-criticism. In attempting to be perfect we’re actually saying that we aren’t OK just as we are. We aren’t good enough. Nothing is ever good enough to the perfectionist. What happens to us when we subscribe to the “not good enough” mantra? I know what it does to me. It shuts me down. If I’m never going to be good enough, then what’s the point of trying?

That question led to an exploration of another word: procrastination. When I shut down I procrastinate. I associate all kinds of negative behaviors and words with procrastination. The list is comprised of adjectives like lazy, unmotivated, non-productive, and sedentary. I don’t accomplish anything. I distract myself from the activities that I could be doing to move myself forward in life. This is the negative consequence of procrastination.

Recently I’ve started to wonder how procrastination serves me. It must do something for me or I wouldn’t procrastinate. I wouldn’t cave in to the brain chatter that tells me my efforts won’t work or won’t be good enough.

All of us have those little voices – little Gremlins in the mind -- that comment and criticize our thoughts and actions. Why do I choose to listen to mine?

Then I had an epiphany. Procrastination keeps me safe. It doesn’t require me to take risks or rise to challenges. It doesn’t expose me to possible criticism or the chance that some one may disagree with me or not like me. It shields me from the possibility that some one might notice me – that they’ll see I’m not good enough. The procrastination Gremlin tells me, “Stay right where you are. Hide! No one will notice you and you won’t get hurt.”

Procrastination demands camouflage. Its attending Gremlin is the critic that reminds me to remain under cover.

Lately I’ve engaged this particular Gremlin in conversation. I begin by saying, “Thank you. I understand that you’re trying to keep me safe. For that I’m truly grateful. AND I’m going to move forward anyway…” I admit to myself that some actions are risky and balance that with the benefits of forward motion.

The Gremlin never turns off the caution light. It keeps blinking, but with less intensity and urgency. It serves as a reminder that I really could get hurt by taking risks. It’s OK for me to acknowledge that … AND I’m going to move forward anyway.


Friday, July 18, 2008

Be Yourself

“To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.” ~~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Working with Respect for Humans and Horses

Note: I’m an Equine Guided Educator and Coach. My goal is to provide personal growth and learning opportunities for people by introducing them to experiences with horses, who I respect as equal partners in the process. I create a safe, supportive environment for both people and horses, offering a chance for my clients to gain different perspectives and apply new insights and lessons to their lives.

As an educator and coach, I’m quite clear about my scope of practice. I do not practice psychology. I do not diagnose or treat mental disorders. I do not counsel or advise on mental health issues.

My field is related to Equine Assisted Psychotherapy (EAP) in that we facilitate growth and learning in our clients. Our approach and purpose may differ, but there is a common thread that runs through both practices: recognizing horses as helpers and healers.

One concern I have with regard to this work is the unethical treatment of horses in the growth and learning process.

The entry below was inspired by conversations with an intuitive horse trainer/teacher and an article titled “EAP’ed Off” that appears on Chris Irwin’s web site. (The link to Chris’ article is:
http://www.chrisirwin.com/articles-chris-eapdoff.php )

It’s not at all my intention to criticize the whole of the EAP community or to say that mistakes aren’t also made by other practitioners in related fields. We all make mistakes. I simply want to add to the larger discussion about healing with horses. This is intended to shine a little light on the subject with the hope that learning continues for all of us in the field of Equine Assisted, Facilitated and/or Guided Learning.


Equine Assisted Psychotherapy (EAP) is the practice of working with horses to facilitate improved mental health in humans. Practitioners of EAP introduce clients to a variety of activities with horses. By observing and commenting on the interactions between clients and horses, therapists and counselors are able to diagnose and treat mental disorders. Because the mental health professional may not have a thorough working knowledge of horses and horse behavior, a trained facilitator often works in tandem with the counselor, supporting the experiential learning process.

One of the organizations that supports this work is the Equine Assisted Growth and Learning Association (EAGALA.) This is generally a highly regarded organization. Personally, I’m familiar with the work of several EAGALA certified practitioners, all of whose work I admire.

In reviewing the Code of Ethics for EAGALA, however, I find that there’s something vital missing. While the code specifies that members retain a high level of ethical behavior and professionalism, including providing for the safety of participants, it says nothing specifically about the safety and well being of the horses that are used in the process of human healing.

Though most practitioners might never overtly or intentionally traumatize a horse in order to get results for their clients, it happens. There are several questions that present themselves in relation to this issue. One is this: Is it acceptable to psychologically damage a horse in the process of improving mental health for clients?

A close friend and experienced intuitive trainer and instructor shared the following story with me after reviewing an article she’d found online. It illustrates the ways in which a horse can be damaged in the process of human healing.

The client and therapist come together at the barn to explore the client’s personal issues. The therapist sets the client to the task of moving the horse into a small, enclosed space – something like a stall -- without the aid of a halter or lead line and without touching the horse in any way.

The client struggled with the task. The horse, apparently unsure of the exercise or the goal, was uncooperative and resisted. The therapist urged the client to continue. Be more assertive. Eventually the task was accomplished, representing success to the client and the therapist.

The photo accompanying the article, taken at the end of the session, showed a beaming client and therapist. The horse, on the other hand, showed clear, visible signs of distress that could be identified by anyone with a basic knowledge of equine body language.

At first glance, neither the therapist nor the client seems to have done anything wrong. Mission accomplished, right?

However, at a deeper level, there is something terribly wrong with this scenario. The horse was pressured into a place where it didn’t want to go by some one who didn’t know horses or horse behavior and probably didn’t notice (or care?) that it was scared. The client’s behavior was witnessed and applauded by a mental health professional.

By asserting herself in this way, what did the client learn? The comment I made to my friend was this: “It sounds like she got in touch with her inner bully.”

A client with psychological issues learned how to bully an animal into doing what she wanted. If this client had been abused at some point in her life, how would her behavior in this situation be different than the bullying once visited on her? Suppose she’s experienced personal boundary or assertiveness issues. How does it heal the client to ignore the horse’s boundaries or assert extreme pressure in order to get results?

The horse in the story lived. It wasn’t physically hurt. Nonetheless, there was some level of emotional damage done in the process. Is it acceptable to emotionally damage another being in pursuit of a client's improved mental health?

How could the therapist have facilitated a session without trauma to either the human or the horse? What can we do when the horse seems uncooperative or confused? How do we support our clients in this exploration? To me, the answer is clear: First, understand what constitutes unnecessary stress and anxiety in each situation we put people and horses into. Next, drop our personal agendas and work with what’s happening in the moment.

I can only speak from my own experience. Here’s what I’ve done.

I held a demonstration session in 2007. In the round pen, I asked a volunteer to move one of my horses using a lunge whip, with which the woman was totally unfamiliar. The task was simple. Just get the horse into motion. There were no instructions about how to do this or in what direction. She tried in a half-hearted manner. At one point she stopped and stood near the mare, who eyed the woman with some confusion, but not fear. I put a halt to the exercise and asked, “What’s happening?”

“She doesn’t want to move.”

“How does that relate to what’s happening in your life?”

“You know, I really don’t want to move, either.”

She proceeded to tell me about a career change, how she just needed time to sit in a place of transition and not do anything.

“How does ‘not doing anything’ look” I asked.

She laid down the whip and walked over to the horse where she (and my mare) visibly relaxed. The woman began to pet and talk to my mare. Then she walked over to me. Without halter or lead or direct invitation, my mare followed and stood beside this woman, head relaxed and clearly wanting to be present with her.

Ta da!

This woman didn’t need to move a horse in order to get results. She simply needed to dance in the moment and discover her own truth. In her case, she needed time to just relax and be. Truth is in the Journey, not in the Destination.

To me, it’s not important that a client “successfully” completes a task that I’ve provided. The experience, just as it is, in whatever way it takes shape, resonates with an inner “aha…” for the client. It can’t be about my expectations or goals.

The task itself gave my mare openings for retreat, if she needed it. She’s familiar with a lunge whip and it didn’t frighten her. I watched very carefully to be sure that she wasn’t in any kind of distress. In fact, an observer to this demonstration commented that she watched the horse for signs of fear or anxiety. She’s a horse person and was pleased to see that my mare wasn’t scared at any time during the demo session. That was intentional on my part and I’m glad some one noticed.

As practitioners in the trailblazing fields of Equine Guided Education and Equine Assisted Psychotherapy, our purpose is to facilitate healing, growth and learning in others. We have to be clear that a session isn’t about our own agendas or what a client and horse partner “should” do. We share an obligation to act ethically and humanely. The substance of the work must include consideration of the well being of human and horse.

If we can simply allow the experience to unfold, rather than dictate what it should be, we create an environment that supports and honors all beings.

Friday, July 11, 2008

"Desensitize ..."

The term “Desensitize” is used frequently in horse training methods. The practice of desensitizing a horse has some logic to it. Get a horse used to things that scare it so it won’t spook. This is for the safety of humans as well as the safety and well being of the horse.

Nonetheless, I don’t like the word or, in many cases, how desensitizing is practiced. To be clear, it’s not the basic concept of overcoming fear to which I object. It’s the method that often disturbs me.

I have some experience with a “spooky” horse. My mare, Tansy, has phobias: plastic of any kind, strange objects and odors near her face, and horse trailers, to name a few. I don’t see these fears as problems but rather personality quirks. I have a deep compassion for Tansy, understanding that she was mistreated in her earlier years, long before she came into my life. I’ve come to the conclusion that most of her fears were instilled in her by harsh/abusive training methods.

I have my own fears, like any human. I consider how I overcome them when I work with Tansy. For instance, I don’t like to be forced into something that makes me feel frightened. Does anyone? This doesn’t mean that I can’t face my fears. It doesn’t mean that Tansy can’t face hers. Again, it’s the method that concerns me.

One “tried and true” desensitizing method involves a process called “sacking out.” This term covers a lot of ground, dealing with many fear issues that horses have. Depending on the horse and the situation and the awareness of the trainer, it can be effective. Done in the wrong way with the wrong horse ... well, it's an emergency room visit waiting to happen.

Essentially, you rub an item all over the horse until it stops reacting negatively. This can be something to which the horse has shown little or no fear, or it can be a particularly objectionable item. A plastic bag, for example, can be tied to the end of a lunge whip. The idea is to touch the horse repeatedly with the plastic until it stops shying away.

I tried this method with Tansy. I was told by “experts” that this would alleviate her fears, and I followed directions for doing it “correctly.” I’ve apologized to her ever since. It was torture. She stood in one place, just like the instructions said she would. But she shook from head to toe and eyed me in abject terror. When I moved the stick with the plastic bag onto the ground in front of her, she snapped. I dropped the stick and backed away. Tansy proceeded to “kill” the plastic bag, snorting in rage and pawing it into the ground. Then she glared at me and trotted away.

I’ve never attempted this again, nor will I.

Some horse owners wouldn’t accept her behavior. They’d be furious with her. They’d think she’s rude and uncooperative. I’m weird, I guess. I was actually proud of her for stomping the demonic plastic bag into the ground. After the initial surprise of her enraged reaction, I completely understood. I thought, “You go, girl!” She stood up for herself. Isn’t that what I want for myself? For my kids? For my clients?

Think about it. An abused horse is something like a rape victim. Would you force sex on a rape victim until she gets used to it and stops resisting? Or would you respect where that person is, in the moment, and take small steps toward gaining trust? Could you accept that some wounds never mend and be OK with that?

In speaking to more humane trainers I’ve gained a valuable perspective on desensitizing. A good friend pointed out that we all have fears, rational and irrational. She specifically mentioned a fear of spiders. Now, if I were terrified of spiders, how would I feel if some one kept sticking them in my face? The more I object, the more spiders are put in my face. Eventually I might numb out completely and quit resisting. I might completely dissociate. Torture methods often have that effect. I might get used to spiders being in my face, but I would still be scared. I might shut down, but that’s not the same as truly facing and overcoming a fear. A shut down horse is dangerous, just as a shut down human is. Eventually anyone who is numb or repressed can snap. Think the cliché “postal workers.”

Do I overcome my fears because some one forces me? Or do I face the fear on my own terms with the support of some one I genuinely trust? I think the distinction is clear.

So, we work at a slower pace. I don’t “desensitize.” In fact, I admire sensitivity in my horse friends. Instead, I attempt to “accustom.” I introduce things to Tansy, trying not to assert pressure but offering support. I see how much she can handle and try not to overwhelm her.

It’s not a quick fix. It wouldn’t make a good demonstration for a natural horsemanship clinic. But to me, it’s not as important to have a “perfect” horse as a sane one.

Thursday, July 3, 2008

A Circle Approach ~ A Different Perspective on Understanding Herd Dynamics

Note: I offer this as a different way to observe horses. I say "different" because there are many, many schools of thought on herd dynamics, how horses interact with each other and us, and what the relationships mean to us as appreciators of wild horses and our own domestic companions. I don’t know if one approach is right or wrong. Maybe just different. I have a somewhat unusual world view which lends itself to what I call a Circle Approach.

I’ll begin with a story:

Late in February, 2007, I arrived at the barn for the afternoon feeding. I felt distracted, running on auto-pilot. Absently, I stepped through the gate, re-locked it, saw the horses gathering in the pasture for their dinner. But I wasn’t really paying attention to them.

I was in my head, a place where I often retreat, working out details for an upcoming workshop ~ “Women & Horses.” Over the years, I’d prepared for dozens of workshops, gatherings, circles and various groups for both men and women. But this was the first one I’d done with women and horses. Granted, it was a small group ~ just two women ~ which took some of the pressure off. Still, I wanted it to be a positive experience and I put my heart into the planning.

The women who registered are my friends, both horse women, both spiritual beings, though on different Paths. Both supported my new life/career journey. They wouldn’t be a difficult audience. Still, the Insecurities started voicing their opinions in my head. What could I share with these women? What could I offer them in this workshop that they wouldn’t already know? What do I know anyway?

I closed my eyes for a few seconds and stood still. What do I know? What- do- I- know?

The answer gave itself to me in a strand of thought: I know the Circle of Life. I understand my place in the Circle, how energy moves, Earth teachings, how each of us bring our own gifts to existence and that we are all equal, inter-connected in the Great Circle, embraced by Mystery.

I opened my eyes and celebrated a quiet, inner sigh …“ahh.” It was then that I realized the horses had moved around me, and I was standing in a perfect Circle of Horses.

I am the Keeper of my own Answers.


All of us trace our lineage to people with a closer relationship with the Earth than we have in today’s world. Our tribal Ancestors understood natural cycles intimately, relied on the natural world for sustenance, and discovered ways to connect with other beings. Everything ~ whether plant, animal, stone, elemental ~ was considered alive and infused with Spirit. Nothing is dead, only different in its place and purpose.

Traditionally, this world view takes form in a Circle and is expressed in all Earth-based belief systems as an understanding of connectedness. In a Circle, nothing is greater or less than anything else. Call it the Circle of Life, the Sacred Hoop, the Wheel, the Web of Existence. All of these descriptions resonate with shared meaning: We are all here together, with individual gifts and equal importance. Not just humans, but all things, living with the potential for balance and harmony. Within this way of being there are incredible opportunities to work in partnership with all life.

I’ve practiced Earth-based spirituality for almost 20 years. The Journey to this Path and on it has re-shaped my way of being in the world. Everything I ever learned about hierarchy, about a “top-down” structure in nature, and even in society itself, was released as I learned to embrace and be embraced by the Circle.

So, as I moved into a stewardship role with horses, it was natural for me to apply an Earth-based approach to my understanding of and relationship with these animals.

Of course, this is not how most people in the horse world relate to horses. It’s common, for instance, to hear words and phrases that reflect a domination perspective: “Alpha mare,” “pecking order,” “low horse in the herd” and so on. These descriptions of animals in a group, I believe, reflect the typical modern human understanding of the world, which takes shape in the mind as a pyramid. This thought structure is the domination approach. In other words, there will always be something higher in the food chain than something else. Humans like to think of ourselves as the pinnacle, with every other thing spread out beneath us.

We may sugar coat horse training methods by talking about relationship, leadership and partnership. But, in truth, what most people are talking about isn’t creating an equal partnership. It’s about domination. I have to ask myself: Do I dominate my partner or do I work with my partner? Hmmm …

What happens if we explore herd dynamics with the Circle in mind? Suppose we stop imposing our perceptions of human dominance structure onto them. Suppose, instead of a hierarchy, the herd is a family or a tribe with each horse having an equally important role.

The “alpha mare” isn’t in charge of the herd. Instead, she’s an elder or clan mother, with her own style of caring for the group. The older gelding isn’t second in command. He’s the uncle who often babysits the younger horses, teaching them how to be part of the herd. Foals are the promise of future generations, who remind the rest of the herd that silliness and passionate release of energy is vital to our well being. Their exuberance and comic relief is felt as a ripple of joy through their family.

I feel a huge difference between the two models of understanding. The hierarchy diminishes, assigns importance and stresses control. The Circle is about acceptance. It allows for growth, shifting responsibility and flow.

What happens when we choose to embrace life on different terms, when we accept that we are truly only part of Creation ~ not its pinnacle? What happens when we integrate the shift into all of our relationships? What do we manifest?

There will always be challenges. It’s challenging to get out of the way of our own egos. I’m not saying that I always get it right or that I don’t struggle or have to re-learn lessons that I thought I was past or that I don’t fall horribly out of balance sometimes. Living in awareness of Connection sometimes calls for us to fall out of balance in order to appreciate the nature of re-alignment. Exploring our shadows is also a Journey into understanding the light that casts them.

My Heart instructs me to connect in Partnership in a Circle of Horses, who remind me always …

We live in a world of possibilities.