George ~ outside on a sunny day, 2010
Stalled
I spend a good part of each day with horses. Blended with barn chores are moments of opportunity to observe, reflect, learn and grow ~ those blessed self-coaching experiences that re-shape my understanding and perspective.
George is a young Quarter Horse stallion, and like many stallions, he lives a life of confinement. He doesn’t have a pasture to share with a harem of mares, so he lives his life in a stall with only brief excursions into a larger environment. It’s a lonely existence, and my heart aches for this horse, who is not mine and over whom I have little decision-making ability.
I let him out of his stall as weather and timing permit, and in the past his usual response has been a burst of enthusiasm. He runs in circles, bucks, and leaps into the air with the sheer exuberance of release.
Yesterday, though, presented a far different scenario. I opened George’s stall door, and he simply stood and looked at me, unwilling to leave the confines of his stall. Perplexed, I called to him ~ then tapped on the side of his stall ~ then offered him feed pellets ~ then waited patiently for him to make a decision to come out. All to no avail.
In that moment of puzzlement, it dawned on me that I’d stepped into a coaching moment.
What, I reflected, is my “stall” and what reasons do I have for being so unwilling to leave it? What is the invisible barrier that I refuse to cross? How does being “stalled” serve me?
The stall isn’t, after all, a very roomy or comfortable place, so I hesitate to refer to it as a “comfort zone” ~ more like a “discomfort zone.” I know every inch of the stall. It's dull and uninspiring and I don’t really want to be stalled in the first place, in any sense of the word. And, of course, there’s a much bigger space just waiting for my emergence. So, what’s keeping me confined and how do I get out?
The first answer is usually the clearest, and my first heart response was this: What keeps me stalled is self-limiting beliefs, perpetuated by the little voice of self doubt whispering in the back of my head. External limits and expectations ~ those I allow to be placed on me by others ~ serve to give the self-doubt a louder voice, which blocks me and keeps me from stepping into something bigger and better.
My Truth is that the stall door is open. The barrier is an illusion.
I slipped a halter over George’s head and walked a few steps out of the stall. He dug in his feet and refused to budge.
How many times do I dig in my heels to my own detriment? I resist the pull into a different set of circumstances. What is the force that could propel me forward?
I offered George love and understanding and encouragement, acknowledging his fear and resistance. I applied gentle pressure, allowing him to take his time to cross the threshold.
I realize that I’m not on anyone else’s time schedule. I love, understand and encourage myself. I apply gentle pressure and make choices that feel right for me in my own time. Allow the experience to expand, to unfold and to reveal itself with greater clarity in its own time.
George stepped out of his stall and transitioned into an open space.
I step out. I transition into whatever open space is next for me...
