The poem below was written months before major changes took place last year. I can see within this piece the extreme shifting in the techtonic plates in my life ~ how it foreshadows everything my family and I have experienced since. Sometimes the chaos has to take over and do its work before I can reclaim order.
Unhinged
I could rage in the face of Fear
Become paralyzed in its merciless gaze
I could struggle in its embrace
Or vomit at its feet
Or split
Into a berserker frenzy
To rip out and devour its
Raw and still pulsing heart
I could bathe in Fear’s blood
But I can’t deny its existence
I can’t look away
Or hear that it’s all going to be OK
Or silence my voice when it’s finally discovered
Its own keening magnitude
I won’t be mollified
Simply because my fear
Unhinges you
I am unhinged
Unglued
Shattered
Flayed
Exposed
Fear dances contortions
In my brittle bones
Comfort words and strong arms
Won’t release me from its grip
You can’t do this for me
Chaos will birth me into something new
Fear is a Shadow midwife
Allow for change
It will change
It’s the only promise I can make you
It’s all that I can give you
Until I’m reconstructed
And rise with ashes in my hair
4-26-12
Friday, February 22, 2013
Monday, March 5, 2012
What's My Motivation?
Playing with Smokey JoeThere’s an old joke in theatre circles. Actors always analyze the parts they play, questioning why their characters would or wouldn’t behave in certain ways. What motivates the character? So, during a rehearsal, the director asks the actor to walk across the stage, and the actor responds “What’s my motivation?” Without skipping a beat, the director says, “Your paycheck.”
Of course, I was never paid to be on stage while I was in college. No financial incentive there. And now, many years later, I find myself in metaphoric director’s shoes, asking my horses for certain behaviors. I can almost hear them ask, “What’s my motivation -- and where’s the paycheck?”
In the past eight years, I’ve abandoned the idea of controlling my horses. Control is a great illusion. In a physical contest, my horses will win – hooves down -- unless I bully my way through our encounters. I’m not interested in bullying. I’ve discovered that collaboration is really a better goal. I’d rather accomplish things together, as partners and friends, than have to pretend I’m stronger or in charge. I ask rather than demand. It seems to work better for us.
Motivation factors into the collaborative dance. Sure I can ask for a behavior, but if it doesn’t make sense to the horse – and if I’m not clear about what I want – why should my horse want to cooperate? What’s his motivation?
I needed to break behaviors down into smaller increments, layering new information onto the already learned behavior. It comes down to this:
Whatever I’m asking has to make sense to my horse. An intelligent being questions the reasons behind any request. Horses are really no different than most humans in this way. There has to be some purpose or meaning involved, other than because I said. Common sense – horse sense -- requires me to consider what the horse understands as a reasonable request. The next step for me is to ask for a simple behavior that, when achieved, results in a reward. Rewards make sense. Simple behaviors transform over time into more complex skill sets, all based on motivation and paycheck.
Enter the clicker and a bag full of horse treats. Horses eat approximately 75 % of their waking day, so food is a logical and inviting “paycheck” -- not to be mistaken for a bribe. A bribe is something you dangle in front of someone before a behavior to coax the person (or horse) into doing what you ask. A reward comes after, when the behavior has been satisfactorily presented.
In truth, food equals motivation – but it’s not the only motivation. My horses now see the clicker and treat pouch and know we’re going to play. The interaction has become a game, less about eating and more about connecting and figuring out puzzles together. It’s fun, and horses love to have fun! Now there’s a great motivating factor!!
And what does the clicker do for me? It requires me to focus on exactly what I’m asking. If my horse doesn’t understand what I’m asking, I have to adjust and communicate more clearly – asking for less or simply asking for something differently. If I’m not clear, how can I expect my horse to understand? After all, we don’t exactly speak the same language.
So, the clicker trains me, too. When I’ve asked clearly and clearly see the desired behavior, the click isn’t just for my horse, it’s for me, too. It says, “I got it right! Yea for me!!”
And Yea for all of us who endeavor to bridge the communication gap in positive ways! What’s the motivation? The paycheck? At the end of the day, I think my paycheck is mutual love and friendship.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Visitation of the Muse
Visitation of the Muse
The Muse made her presence known
at a little hour of the morning.
2:32 A.M.
A lightning flash of rapid fire inspiration.
She shot at me random strands of poetry …
She sparked vivid images of beaded art
and profoundly shaped figures in clay…
She frantically chanted fragments of the opening lines
of a novel that I have yet to birth…
And there, in the groggy fog
of the morning’s little hour,
I rolled the pillow over my head
and told the Muse to shut up.
Nora Place Morbeck
April 22, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Stalled -- Insights from a Self-Coaching Moment
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...
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Meg with Eva
Meg with Eva
Because she needed
to lose the memories
to make a clean start …
Because of the instinct
to get out of her own way,
to trust Fate
to become something Other …
Because nothing was hers
to cling to ~ not really…
Except the hair and the ponies
and the intensity of the Mom-bond.
She chose to fly ~
not away from, but toward.
With the herd gathered
and a child in each hand,
she leapt forward into the Void.
And she left the hair behind.
Nora Place Morbeck
10/16/2010
Sunday, October 17, 2010
A Bonfire of Procrastination: Apologia for Clutter
Where to start?...
and how?...
and why?...
What is my motivation?
What is the purpose?
To tidy after the woefully untidy?
To glower in resentment
amongst heaps created
by the oblivious and unconcerned?
To grudgingly un-clutter
what no woman has un-cluttered before?
I live in a world of possibilities.
What are my options?
I could throw a Pity Party for one,
a celebration of sulky procrastination.
I could, in a fit of dissociation,
deny the very existence
of the clutter.
I could, better yet,
touch a match to all of it –
howl and dance naked in reckless abandon
like a Pictish blue warrior –
while sparks leap toward the sky.
Sacrifice the clutter to the
purification of flame!
Make such a fiery end to procrastination
as to be the glorious inspiration
to all other Domestic Goddesses!!
Or …
I could just suck it up and clean.
Nora Place Morbeck
10/16/2010
and how?...
and why?...
What is my motivation?
What is the purpose?
To tidy after the woefully untidy?
To glower in resentment
amongst heaps created
by the oblivious and unconcerned?
To grudgingly un-clutter
what no woman has un-cluttered before?
I live in a world of possibilities.
What are my options?
I could throw a Pity Party for one,
a celebration of sulky procrastination.
I could, in a fit of dissociation,
deny the very existence
of the clutter.
I could, better yet,
touch a match to all of it –
howl and dance naked in reckless abandon
like a Pictish blue warrior –
while sparks leap toward the sky.
Sacrifice the clutter to the
purification of flame!
Make such a fiery end to procrastination
as to be the glorious inspiration
to all other Domestic Goddesses!!
Or …
I could just suck it up and clean.
Nora Place Morbeck
10/16/2010
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
Getting Out of the Way of Our Horses
Her son, Taran, is beside her.
Last summer, Shannon Knapp from Horse Sense of the Carolinas sent an e-mail question to dozens of practitioners in the Equine Guided/Assisted Learning community. It was one of those “food for thought” inquiries, which I always appreciate. Essentially, it was this: Should we be using our personal horses for this work?
It’s a good question. After all, we’re attached to our own horses in different ways than we might be to those with whom we simply work. We have a history with our horses. We know their personalities and their stories, as we would members of our own human families. Intentionally or not, we may allow our relationships with them to get in the way of our work with clients. Our expectations may interfere with the learning and growth process.
With regard to clients, we’re reminded by our teachers to “allow” people to fully experience sessions with horse partners. We’re encouraged to “get out of the way” of our clients. Let sessions unfold without undue interference. I value these words of wisdom and carry them in my heart as I step into the circle of each client/horse interaction.
I would add to this wisdom that we also need to get out of the way of our horses. When we project expectations, judgments, personal agendas and biases onto them, we hinder the process. We begin to engage in prediction of outcome. We get in the way.
I must admit that, at times, I’ve made assumptions about what one of my horses might do during a session, only to be amazed and humbled by a completely different response. These experiences challenged me to reevaluate my attitudes, to reconsider the limitations I place on the horses in my herd.
My mare, Tansy, is a perfect example of misplaced expectations. In the five years I’ve known this highly sensitive mare, we’ve come to an understanding. She is not a “people person.” She isn’t rude or aggressive. She simply isn’t interested in cozying up to people. While I was initially put off by her standoffishness, I’ve come to recognize that she’s simply not an overly affectionate being. Tansy is content to look at me across the pasture without any compulsion to approach me or even be approached by me. She is who she is. I accept her.
But, when I first put her in the round pen with a coaching client, I was dumbfounded to discover that her responses were completely contrary to my expectations. She was approachable, she allowed the client to touch her without any indication of fear or distrust, and she stood patiently as the client released tears of frustration related to an event in her life. Throughout the session, Tansy was fully present and engaged.
I had to take a few seconds to collect myself. “Who is this mare?” I’d never seen anything like this from Tansy! With a little effort, I checked my attitude. I reminded myself to let go, to just go with the flow. By doing so, the experience unfolded in profound ways for the client.
Within the circle of partnership, Tansy shed her reservations and embraced the moment with openness and compassion. In the process, she allowed me to connect with a part of her that I’d never experienced. The client came away from her session with valuable insights, and I walked away with an entirely new, unexpected understanding of my horse.
Of course, I never said anything to my client about this revelation. Her session with Tansy wasn’t about me. Nonetheless, I was both astounded and gratified by what I’d learned.
Recalling the session, I sometimes think about the “what ifs.” What if I hadn’t checked my attitude? What if I’d allowed my own expectations about my horse to creep into the session? How would that have impacted the client’s experience? By projecting limitations ~ thereby getting in Tansy’s way ~ I would’ve also gotten in the way of the client and her learning opportunity.
The original question was: Should we be using our personal horses for this work? I think the answer lies in our ability to answer the next “food for thought” questions: If we work with clients and horses from our own herds, are we able to release our biases? Are we willing to step back and go with the flow when our horses respond in ways that we perceive are out of character? What can we do internally to create and hold space when we’re caught off guard by unexpected responses?
I believe these self-inquiries represent some of the challenges we face, but I don’t think they’re insurmountable obstacles. Those of us who share our horse companions with clients simply have to go one step further than practitioners who don’t. We release our judgments about clients and the process and we let go of our expectations of who we assume our horses are.
Tansy’s responses demonstrate that I really can’t predict what will happen in the circle of partnership. So, I integrate what I’ve learned from experience. Let go, embrace the mystery and get out of her way.
It’s a good question. After all, we’re attached to our own horses in different ways than we might be to those with whom we simply work. We have a history with our horses. We know their personalities and their stories, as we would members of our own human families. Intentionally or not, we may allow our relationships with them to get in the way of our work with clients. Our expectations may interfere with the learning and growth process.
With regard to clients, we’re reminded by our teachers to “allow” people to fully experience sessions with horse partners. We’re encouraged to “get out of the way” of our clients. Let sessions unfold without undue interference. I value these words of wisdom and carry them in my heart as I step into the circle of each client/horse interaction.
I would add to this wisdom that we also need to get out of the way of our horses. When we project expectations, judgments, personal agendas and biases onto them, we hinder the process. We begin to engage in prediction of outcome. We get in the way.
I must admit that, at times, I’ve made assumptions about what one of my horses might do during a session, only to be amazed and humbled by a completely different response. These experiences challenged me to reevaluate my attitudes, to reconsider the limitations I place on the horses in my herd.
My mare, Tansy, is a perfect example of misplaced expectations. In the five years I’ve known this highly sensitive mare, we’ve come to an understanding. She is not a “people person.” She isn’t rude or aggressive. She simply isn’t interested in cozying up to people. While I was initially put off by her standoffishness, I’ve come to recognize that she’s simply not an overly affectionate being. Tansy is content to look at me across the pasture without any compulsion to approach me or even be approached by me. She is who she is. I accept her.
But, when I first put her in the round pen with a coaching client, I was dumbfounded to discover that her responses were completely contrary to my expectations. She was approachable, she allowed the client to touch her without any indication of fear or distrust, and she stood patiently as the client released tears of frustration related to an event in her life. Throughout the session, Tansy was fully present and engaged.
I had to take a few seconds to collect myself. “Who is this mare?” I’d never seen anything like this from Tansy! With a little effort, I checked my attitude. I reminded myself to let go, to just go with the flow. By doing so, the experience unfolded in profound ways for the client.
Within the circle of partnership, Tansy shed her reservations and embraced the moment with openness and compassion. In the process, she allowed me to connect with a part of her that I’d never experienced. The client came away from her session with valuable insights, and I walked away with an entirely new, unexpected understanding of my horse.
Of course, I never said anything to my client about this revelation. Her session with Tansy wasn’t about me. Nonetheless, I was both astounded and gratified by what I’d learned.
Recalling the session, I sometimes think about the “what ifs.” What if I hadn’t checked my attitude? What if I’d allowed my own expectations about my horse to creep into the session? How would that have impacted the client’s experience? By projecting limitations ~ thereby getting in Tansy’s way ~ I would’ve also gotten in the way of the client and her learning opportunity.
The original question was: Should we be using our personal horses for this work? I think the answer lies in our ability to answer the next “food for thought” questions: If we work with clients and horses from our own herds, are we able to release our biases? Are we willing to step back and go with the flow when our horses respond in ways that we perceive are out of character? What can we do internally to create and hold space when we’re caught off guard by unexpected responses?
I believe these self-inquiries represent some of the challenges we face, but I don’t think they’re insurmountable obstacles. Those of us who share our horse companions with clients simply have to go one step further than practitioners who don’t. We release our judgments about clients and the process and we let go of our expectations of who we assume our horses are.
Tansy’s responses demonstrate that I really can’t predict what will happen in the circle of partnership. So, I integrate what I’ve learned from experience. Let go, embrace the mystery and get out of her way.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Equal Partnership with Horses
In a partnership, both parties have equal, albeit different, responsibilities. Partners compliment one another, earn trust, and work together with mutual respect for the benefit of the relationship.
What I’ve discovered in countless hours of research -- online, in books and in discussions – is that very few horse people genuinely embrace the concept of equal partnerships between people and horses. The language is there … sometimes … but then it trips itself up with words like “domination,” “alpha horse,” “pecking order,” and so on. But rarely do people talk about real 50/50 relationships.
Here’s how I see it. The words “domination” and “partnership” are mutually exclusive. The former is based on control, submission and subjugation, while the latter is based on equality, collaboration and shared responsibility. Domination and partnership cannot reside in the same relationship – not if it’s a healthy one.
My suspicion is that the word partnership is primarily a misused word in the horse world, as most training methods that I’ve encountered are based on the premise that the trainer is the dominant being in the relationship.
These training methods are modeled on the generally accepted idea that there is a hierarchy within a herd. I don’t subscribe to this idea. The idea of a hierarchy is contradictory to what I’ve witnessed in the herds that I’ve worked with.
What is domination in a herd? Generally speaking, it’s understood as horses gaining and consistently maintaining control/domination over other horses, which presumably results in a top-down pecking order. I’ve never seen this.
What I have seen is horses acting aggressively toward each other, and I’ve seen signs of situational domination. These tend to be temporary, quickly resolved shows of aggression, and they seem to result from imbalance in particular situations.
When a horse thinks he’s not going to get enough to eat, for example, he’ll push other horses away from food. This is bullying, which I suspect is brought about by fear that there won’t be enough food to go around – a reaction to an imbalance in sustenance.
I’ve also witnessed horses setting boundaries with one another in the pasture. Boundary setting isn’t domination, either. From my point of view, it’s about requesting personal space. Some horses, like some people, need more personal space than others and they’re more assertive about enforcing it. Once the boundary has been established, however, balance is restored. This usually takes a few seconds. Rarely do horses chase each other around for more than a few minutes.
The only animals that give a sustained chase are predators.
Mostly what I’ve witnessed is horses living together in functional groups, each with its own place that isn’t higher or lower than any other horse in the herd. Watchfulness and direction setting in the herd appear to be shared responsibilities. This is collaboration, not domination. It’s the herd working together for the benefit of the entire group rather than falling in behind a specified leader.
When we establish ourselves as dominant over horses, we’re putting into play an intense, sustained, unnatural assertion of control that horses don’t understand and don’t respect, because it’s something that they don’t encounter in their every day herd lives. This behavior is specific to their interactions with humans.
Dominance is a human choice that we impose onto our relationships with horses. I think if we maximized the potential for true partnership, rather than trying to coerce our horses into submission, we’d co-create more harmonious, more respectful relationships with them.
What I’ve discovered in countless hours of research -- online, in books and in discussions – is that very few horse people genuinely embrace the concept of equal partnerships between people and horses. The language is there … sometimes … but then it trips itself up with words like “domination,” “alpha horse,” “pecking order,” and so on. But rarely do people talk about real 50/50 relationships.
Here’s how I see it. The words “domination” and “partnership” are mutually exclusive. The former is based on control, submission and subjugation, while the latter is based on equality, collaboration and shared responsibility. Domination and partnership cannot reside in the same relationship – not if it’s a healthy one.
My suspicion is that the word partnership is primarily a misused word in the horse world, as most training methods that I’ve encountered are based on the premise that the trainer is the dominant being in the relationship.
These training methods are modeled on the generally accepted idea that there is a hierarchy within a herd. I don’t subscribe to this idea. The idea of a hierarchy is contradictory to what I’ve witnessed in the herds that I’ve worked with.
What is domination in a herd? Generally speaking, it’s understood as horses gaining and consistently maintaining control/domination over other horses, which presumably results in a top-down pecking order. I’ve never seen this.
What I have seen is horses acting aggressively toward each other, and I’ve seen signs of situational domination. These tend to be temporary, quickly resolved shows of aggression, and they seem to result from imbalance in particular situations.
When a horse thinks he’s not going to get enough to eat, for example, he’ll push other horses away from food. This is bullying, which I suspect is brought about by fear that there won’t be enough food to go around – a reaction to an imbalance in sustenance.
I’ve also witnessed horses setting boundaries with one another in the pasture. Boundary setting isn’t domination, either. From my point of view, it’s about requesting personal space. Some horses, like some people, need more personal space than others and they’re more assertive about enforcing it. Once the boundary has been established, however, balance is restored. This usually takes a few seconds. Rarely do horses chase each other around for more than a few minutes.
The only animals that give a sustained chase are predators.
Mostly what I’ve witnessed is horses living together in functional groups, each with its own place that isn’t higher or lower than any other horse in the herd. Watchfulness and direction setting in the herd appear to be shared responsibilities. This is collaboration, not domination. It’s the herd working together for the benefit of the entire group rather than falling in behind a specified leader.
When we establish ourselves as dominant over horses, we’re putting into play an intense, sustained, unnatural assertion of control that horses don’t understand and don’t respect, because it’s something that they don’t encounter in their every day herd lives. This behavior is specific to their interactions with humans.
Dominance is a human choice that we impose onto our relationships with horses. I think if we maximized the potential for true partnership, rather than trying to coerce our horses into submission, we’d co-create more harmonious, more respectful relationships with them.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Wisdom from a Coffee Cup
I found these words of wisdom from poet Desi Di Nardo on this morning’s Starbucks cup…
The Way I See It #293
The way I see it
Isn’t necessarily
The way you see it
Or the way it is
Or ought to be
What’s more important
Is that we’re all
Looking for it
And a way to see it
The Way I See It #293
The way I see it
Isn’t necessarily
The way you see it
Or the way it is
Or ought to be
What’s more important
Is that we’re all
Looking for it
And a way to see it
Thursday, December 18, 2008
The Beaver's Message
“What’s that in the pasture?”
I looked to my right as we drove down the gravel road to the barn, my attention drawn in the direction of Rich’s question.
I didn’t know. It looked like a small deer or a dog, lying in the brown grass, probably dead. While Rich began the afternoon feeding, I walked alone up pasture to solve the mystery. What I found brought me to tears.
It was the body of a large, dead beaver, lying at least 30 feet from the creek. She was on her back, and when I rolled her over, I noticed fresh blood coming from a hole by her ear. She probably hadn’t been dead for more than an hour, though I was sure she’d suffered far longer than that. Some one, somewhere along the creek, shot her in the head and left her for dead. She must have followed the creek to the ford where our horses cross into the upper pasture, and she made an agonizing crawl onto land to a place where we’d notice her.
I reached my hand down to touch her, stroking her fur, tears brimming in my eyes as I apologized over and over for the stupidity of humans, for their cruelty. All animals die, I know, but they don’t need to suffer as this beaver obviously did.
She was enormous, perhaps 60 pounds or more. This was a beautiful, elder beaver – a longtime caretaker and nurturer of the area’s wetlands. I wondered, given the circumstances of her death, how she managed to make it into this horse pasture … and why.
Rich joined me and we held hands, looking over her body. Rich was so angry. True, my husband is a hunter, but he respects life and doesn’t kill needlessly. We eat what he brings home and he prays for the animal spirits who provide us with their meat and skins.
Standing over this beaver, we made a decision to take her home and honor her in the Old Way. We made an offering and said our prayers for her spirit; we took her home and offered tobacco and sage.
Again, I wondered why she’d come to us. I think, in part, her spirit traveled and knew that we’d find her and treat her respectfully – that we’d honor her life and sing her over. We’d keep her skin to remember her. Also I think she offered herself as a messenger for us.
What is the message of the Beaver? As one of nature’s finest architects, much of what Beaver teaches is about foundational work, flow and harmony. She goes about her building industriously, with an eye to the larger scheme of things. Left to her own devices, she changes the flow of water, the flow of energy around her, for the benefit of all. She creates balance in our rivers and wet places. Spiritually, this is also the balance and flow of our emotions.
It came to me the next morning, in a place between sleep and waking, that her message for me is very much about attending to my own foundation. This beaver appeared in the pasture where my horses live, and the foundation of my work with the horses has recently been in personal question.
I’ve realized that the people I accepted as role models, while doing their own valued brand of teaching, don’t share my personal philosophies. We aren’t coming from the same place, and by modeling them, I’ve come to understand that I haven’t been true to my own heart and direction. The result is that, standing on shaky ground, I haven’t grown, nor have I been inspired to move my life work forward in positive ways.
My work with horses isn’t simply a job to me. It resonates in every way in my life, sending ripples through all of my relationships. In partnership with horses, I’m able to explore the Circle in deeper, more meaningful ways, and I’m able to share this gift with others. I can’t simply duplicate some one else’s business model, or copy the practices that I don’t, at heart, agree with. I have to go back to square one and re-build. I began to understand this several weeks ago. The beaver’s appearance in my life was a powerful reminder and a catalyst for much-needed change.
So, as I venture into the New Year, I go deeper into my own foundational work, re-focus, re-write, re-structure, creating a balanced base. I change the flow within me and around me in ways that help me to stand in my own power and that will benefit others.
Megwitch (thank you) to the Beaver for her life and spirit and for the messages she brings, which I’m sure will continue to unfold with greater meaning as I move forward in the coming months …
I looked to my right as we drove down the gravel road to the barn, my attention drawn in the direction of Rich’s question.
I didn’t know. It looked like a small deer or a dog, lying in the brown grass, probably dead. While Rich began the afternoon feeding, I walked alone up pasture to solve the mystery. What I found brought me to tears.
It was the body of a large, dead beaver, lying at least 30 feet from the creek. She was on her back, and when I rolled her over, I noticed fresh blood coming from a hole by her ear. She probably hadn’t been dead for more than an hour, though I was sure she’d suffered far longer than that. Some one, somewhere along the creek, shot her in the head and left her for dead. She must have followed the creek to the ford where our horses cross into the upper pasture, and she made an agonizing crawl onto land to a place where we’d notice her.
I reached my hand down to touch her, stroking her fur, tears brimming in my eyes as I apologized over and over for the stupidity of humans, for their cruelty. All animals die, I know, but they don’t need to suffer as this beaver obviously did.
She was enormous, perhaps 60 pounds or more. This was a beautiful, elder beaver – a longtime caretaker and nurturer of the area’s wetlands. I wondered, given the circumstances of her death, how she managed to make it into this horse pasture … and why.
Rich joined me and we held hands, looking over her body. Rich was so angry. True, my husband is a hunter, but he respects life and doesn’t kill needlessly. We eat what he brings home and he prays for the animal spirits who provide us with their meat and skins.
Standing over this beaver, we made a decision to take her home and honor her in the Old Way. We made an offering and said our prayers for her spirit; we took her home and offered tobacco and sage.
Again, I wondered why she’d come to us. I think, in part, her spirit traveled and knew that we’d find her and treat her respectfully – that we’d honor her life and sing her over. We’d keep her skin to remember her. Also I think she offered herself as a messenger for us.
What is the message of the Beaver? As one of nature’s finest architects, much of what Beaver teaches is about foundational work, flow and harmony. She goes about her building industriously, with an eye to the larger scheme of things. Left to her own devices, she changes the flow of water, the flow of energy around her, for the benefit of all. She creates balance in our rivers and wet places. Spiritually, this is also the balance and flow of our emotions.
It came to me the next morning, in a place between sleep and waking, that her message for me is very much about attending to my own foundation. This beaver appeared in the pasture where my horses live, and the foundation of my work with the horses has recently been in personal question.
I’ve realized that the people I accepted as role models, while doing their own valued brand of teaching, don’t share my personal philosophies. We aren’t coming from the same place, and by modeling them, I’ve come to understand that I haven’t been true to my own heart and direction. The result is that, standing on shaky ground, I haven’t grown, nor have I been inspired to move my life work forward in positive ways.
My work with horses isn’t simply a job to me. It resonates in every way in my life, sending ripples through all of my relationships. In partnership with horses, I’m able to explore the Circle in deeper, more meaningful ways, and I’m able to share this gift with others. I can’t simply duplicate some one else’s business model, or copy the practices that I don’t, at heart, agree with. I have to go back to square one and re-build. I began to understand this several weeks ago. The beaver’s appearance in my life was a powerful reminder and a catalyst for much-needed change.
So, as I venture into the New Year, I go deeper into my own foundational work, re-focus, re-write, re-structure, creating a balanced base. I change the flow within me and around me in ways that help me to stand in my own power and that will benefit others.
Megwitch (thank you) to the Beaver for her life and spirit and for the messages she brings, which I’m sure will continue to unfold with greater meaning as I move forward in the coming months …
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Celebration and Release
“Kick up your heels and release joy.”On most mornings I draw a card from an inspirational deck called Touched by a Horse by Melinda Pearce. Every time I read a card’s message, I’m reminded of something that perhaps I’ve forgotten to look at or could put into action in my life.
Today’s reading is “Celebration and Release” ~ an encouragement to celebrate the small successes in life rather than looking at the larger goals to be achieved.
As the card reminds me, “The lesson here is about the power of the collective, smaller victories that must be expressed…” as I move through Life’s Journey.
So, what are the little things I can celebrate today?
The “Maintenance Required” light in my car is NOT an indication of impending disaster, but simply a reminder to get my oil changed. Wow! What a relief!
The call from our veterinarian assured me that my dog’s blood tests were clear. No major health issues. After a few days of worry, this was amazing news.
The weather couldn’t be more beautiful ~ cool and sunny. I celebrate the change of seasons.
Planning for my upcoming workshop is a daily joy. New ideas, collaboration with other people and the incredible reward of sharing this work with a group … all of this fills me with a wonderful sense of excitement. Each step toward the event is an affirmation.
Every small success is a victory and a validation.
What small successes can you celebrate today?
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
What to Expect from "Living the Circle ..."
Several people have expressed interest in the October workshop, titled Living the Circle: An Exploration of Our Relationships with Creator, the Earth and Each Other. They’ve asked some wonderful questions, one of which is “What is this all about?”
So, to clarify a few things, I thought I’d take a few minutes to share what participants can expect from this workshop.
First, the program involves Equine Guided Education and Coaching. For those who are unfamiliar with this kind of personal growth and learning, the process partners people with horses in activities that are designed to help people connect with their own answers, their own Truth, their own values.
This is an experiential learning process with horses acting as guides or teachers. In other words, as we interact with the horses, insights will surface that relate to other parts of our lives. We’re able to gain different perspectives through these interactions and apply the lessons to daily life.
What can horses teach us? By nature these animals have finely tuned instincts. In a herd or alone, they are acutely aware of their environment at all times; of the subtle shifts in the energy around them. When they’re around people, they respond to our energy and to the shifts within us.
Horses can’t lie or fake their emotions, but they certainly know when we’re faking it! Humans have a tendency to wear “masks.” We may project one emotion when we’re feeling something completely different inside. Horses respond to how we’re truly feeling. So, if we’re all smiles on the outside but feeling anger or grief inside, horses sense the incongruity. They respond to our authentic feelings. Their “feedback” is honest and non-judgmental. This gift allows us to learn more about ourselves, to see our attitudes and behaviors from a different angle, and to re-connect with our authentic selves.
As coaches, Dawn Sanborn and I acknowledge that horses are equal partners in the learning experience. She and I are present to support people learning from horses. We’ll set the activities in motion and allow participants to explore what each experience means on a personal level. We’ll encourage people to expand the lessons beyond the self to reflect on the larger community, to the Earth and to Creator. On occasion, we’ll step in to make inquiries which lend themselves to developing greater awareness during the experience. Otherwise, we get out of the way and let the horses do their work!
Within the context of this workshop, we’ll explore the Circle of Life with horses as our guides. The activities will echo aspects of the Medicine Wheel, beginning in the East and following the path of the sun to the North. Each direction offers us different lessons. Each activity will give participants an opportunity to explore their own Journeys.
There is no riding or training involved. All activities with horses are done on the ground and no horse experience is necessary. We simply ask that you come with an open heart and an open mind.
A traditional Native American Sweat Lodge will follow the workshop. Participants in the workshop will come together to help with lodge preparations and learn what is involved in the process. For people who have never participated in a Sweat Lodge, please go to http://www.manyhorses.org/ (click on the Sweat Lodge page) to learn more about this purification ceremony.
I’d like to take a minute to acknowledge a volunteer, Kate Staley, who’s stepped up to the plate to assist us with this workshop. Volunteers are so important. They invest their time and energy to ensure the day goes smoothly and that everyone gets the greatest benefit from the experience. So, if you come to Living the Circle, please remember to say thanks to Kate for all of her good work!
Also, a great big “Thanks!” in advance to Karen Wolfe and Barbara Morton for allowing us to use their property and to work with their wonderful horses.
To register for the workshop and get directions to this event (held in Bremen, GA) please feel free to get in touch. I can be reached via e-mail at mothercreekhorse@gmail.com
Blessings and Balance …
Nora
So, to clarify a few things, I thought I’d take a few minutes to share what participants can expect from this workshop.
First, the program involves Equine Guided Education and Coaching. For those who are unfamiliar with this kind of personal growth and learning, the process partners people with horses in activities that are designed to help people connect with their own answers, their own Truth, their own values.
This is an experiential learning process with horses acting as guides or teachers. In other words, as we interact with the horses, insights will surface that relate to other parts of our lives. We’re able to gain different perspectives through these interactions and apply the lessons to daily life.
What can horses teach us? By nature these animals have finely tuned instincts. In a herd or alone, they are acutely aware of their environment at all times; of the subtle shifts in the energy around them. When they’re around people, they respond to our energy and to the shifts within us.
Horses can’t lie or fake their emotions, but they certainly know when we’re faking it! Humans have a tendency to wear “masks.” We may project one emotion when we’re feeling something completely different inside. Horses respond to how we’re truly feeling. So, if we’re all smiles on the outside but feeling anger or grief inside, horses sense the incongruity. They respond to our authentic feelings. Their “feedback” is honest and non-judgmental. This gift allows us to learn more about ourselves, to see our attitudes and behaviors from a different angle, and to re-connect with our authentic selves.
As coaches, Dawn Sanborn and I acknowledge that horses are equal partners in the learning experience. She and I are present to support people learning from horses. We’ll set the activities in motion and allow participants to explore what each experience means on a personal level. We’ll encourage people to expand the lessons beyond the self to reflect on the larger community, to the Earth and to Creator. On occasion, we’ll step in to make inquiries which lend themselves to developing greater awareness during the experience. Otherwise, we get out of the way and let the horses do their work!
Within the context of this workshop, we’ll explore the Circle of Life with horses as our guides. The activities will echo aspects of the Medicine Wheel, beginning in the East and following the path of the sun to the North. Each direction offers us different lessons. Each activity will give participants an opportunity to explore their own Journeys.
There is no riding or training involved. All activities with horses are done on the ground and no horse experience is necessary. We simply ask that you come with an open heart and an open mind.
A traditional Native American Sweat Lodge will follow the workshop. Participants in the workshop will come together to help with lodge preparations and learn what is involved in the process. For people who have never participated in a Sweat Lodge, please go to http://www.manyhorses.org/ (click on the Sweat Lodge page) to learn more about this purification ceremony.
I’d like to take a minute to acknowledge a volunteer, Kate Staley, who’s stepped up to the plate to assist us with this workshop. Volunteers are so important. They invest their time and energy to ensure the day goes smoothly and that everyone gets the greatest benefit from the experience. So, if you come to Living the Circle, please remember to say thanks to Kate for all of her good work!
Also, a great big “Thanks!” in advance to Karen Wolfe and Barbara Morton for allowing us to use their property and to work with their wonderful horses.
To register for the workshop and get directions to this event (held in Bremen, GA) please feel free to get in touch. I can be reached via e-mail at mothercreekhorse@gmail.com
Blessings and Balance …
Nora
Thursday, September 4, 2008
October workshop
Living the Circle:
An Exploration of Our Relationships
with Creator, the Earth and Each Other
Offered by
Nora Morbeck, Mother Creek Horse Coaching
and Dawn Sanborn, Outta the Barn
Date: Saturday, October 4, 2008
Time: 9:00 AM – 3:00 PM
Place: Bremen, GA
Recommended Fee: $100 * ~ includes lunch, snacks & drinks
A Sweat Lodge will follow the workshop.
Notes: This workshop offers an opportunity to gain personal insights, to grow and learn in the company of horses, allowing these beautiful beings to reflect, to guide and to teach us on our journey into better understanding the inter-connectedness of life. Through individual and group activities with horses, participants are free to explore what Living the Circle means to them, how it’s expressed in the self, in family and in our larger community. No riding is involved. All activities are done on the ground. No horse experience is necessary.
About the Facilitators: Nora and Dawn are Equine Guided Educators and Coaches. Both women are graduates of the Wisdom Horse Coaching Apprenticeship program, based in Minneapolis. They bring their unique styles to this workshop, combining their skills and gifts to provide a wonderful, supportive learning experience.
What to bring: notebooks & pens for journaling, lawn chairs, a dish to share after the Sweat Lodge.
For more information, to register and to get directions, contact Nora at mothercreekhorse@gmail.com
* A reduced rate is available, upon request. Please note that there is no fee for the Sweat Lodge.
An Exploration of Our Relationships
with Creator, the Earth and Each Other
Offered by
Nora Morbeck, Mother Creek Horse Coaching
and Dawn Sanborn, Outta the Barn
Date: Saturday, October 4, 2008
Time: 9:00 AM – 3:00 PM
Place: Bremen, GA
Recommended Fee: $100 * ~ includes lunch, snacks & drinks
A Sweat Lodge will follow the workshop.
Notes: This workshop offers an opportunity to gain personal insights, to grow and learn in the company of horses, allowing these beautiful beings to reflect, to guide and to teach us on our journey into better understanding the inter-connectedness of life. Through individual and group activities with horses, participants are free to explore what Living the Circle means to them, how it’s expressed in the self, in family and in our larger community. No riding is involved. All activities are done on the ground. No horse experience is necessary.
About the Facilitators: Nora and Dawn are Equine Guided Educators and Coaches. Both women are graduates of the Wisdom Horse Coaching Apprenticeship program, based in Minneapolis. They bring their unique styles to this workshop, combining their skills and gifts to provide a wonderful, supportive learning experience.
What to bring: notebooks & pens for journaling, lawn chairs, a dish to share after the Sweat Lodge.
For more information, to register and to get directions, contact Nora at mothercreekhorse@gmail.com
* A reduced rate is available, upon request. Please note that there is no fee for the Sweat Lodge.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
An Exploration of Procrastination
Cartoon by Dave WalkerSeveral 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.
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.
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.
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.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Beginning ...
I admit it. Technology isn't my thing. I have a site domain, but designing web pages intimidates me. In fact, it stops me dead in my tracks. Why does it need to be so complicated? Am I just making it harder on myself than it needs to be? Probably.
So, my web site goes unfinished. A blog seems easier. Easier is good. A place to begin. This blog is my leap into cyberspace.
Looking back over poetry, written many years ago, I re-discover a piece that echoes my fear factor ... and a leap of faith in spite and/or because of my unsettled feelings. I am a "diver" by nature, so I'm diving.
Here it goes ...
So, my web site goes unfinished. A blog seems easier. Easier is good. A place to begin. This blog is my leap into cyberspace.
Looking back over poetry, written many years ago, I re-discover a piece that echoes my fear factor ... and a leap of faith in spite and/or because of my unsettled feelings. I am a "diver" by nature, so I'm diving.
Here it goes ...
Spaces of Unknown
Precarious
crouched
toes curled over
the edge of the ledge
peering down
mesmerized
into the void
Dark Heart
of my own
infinite unknown
casting out Hope Stones
prayers sink like
weighted echoes
Clarity of vision
blurs
obscures
here are the shadows
of my wildest fears
Spaces filled with
chaos beyond the traces
of my frail
manipulative control
The Spiritual Warrior
chooses the course
of right action
stands
understands
and leaps empty handed
into the void.
Nora Place Morbeck
Precarious
crouched
toes curled over
the edge of the ledge
peering down
mesmerized
into the void
Dark Heart
of my own
infinite unknown
casting out Hope Stones
prayers sink like
weighted echoes
Clarity of vision
blurs
obscures
here are the shadows
of my wildest fears
Spaces filled with
chaos beyond the traces
of my frail
manipulative control
The Spiritual Warrior
chooses the course
of right action
stands
understands
and leaps empty handed
into the void.
Nora Place Morbeck
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