For a number of years now, I’ve been doing distance bodywork on horses and people. Honestly, it doesn’t matter how far away those horses are, they can still greatly benefit from this help both anatomically and physiologically.
“At any kind of transition point in our lives we all need the certainty of knowing at some level that we are securely held. This is the ground from which we leap, however near or far, and to which we can return and be welcomed back.” – Wisdom of the Body Moving, by Linda Hartley.
Horses and their honesty, which sometimes translates to their inability to be polite, is energetically one of the things that differentiates horses from people and also from dogs. With horses, mostly what you see is what you get. But it takes time to know what you are looking at.
I have ridden many miles of trail in my life. Years ago, I had the thought that the trail really is a metaphor for life, because we choose the trail according to the same basic criteria as we choose to embark on activities in life, except that no one is paying us to do it, usually!
I recently became aware of how the Liberty work I teach really expose to us not only our greatest strengths and weaknesses, but also what parts of the work we are drawn to.
From the standpoint of a bodyworker, when the horse has “had enough” is pretty obvious. But even so, students will continue to press on an area and worry over it even when the horse has moved away. Why don’t they see it? Feel it?
Bottom line: you want your horse to like the trainer. When the horse doesn’t like the trainer you’ve got a real problem, because clearly something is going on that shouldn’t be. Too much pressure is being applied, most likely.
So many horses that come into my purview in the past year have been rescue horses, more than ever before. It is a sign of our times that so many horses are desperately in need of homes. Fortunately, the ones I have met recently have been at my clinics and are in my Equine Ortho-Bionomy practice, and have found loving homes.
In the beginning there was the herd. The herd traveled as one; each member had its own thoughts but they thought as one being when deciding where to move, when to move, where to eat, to drink, what to do if a predator approached. Their days flowed together and were designed around the quest for food, shelter and space. They shared a language that consisted of body language, sounds, just thinking a desire.
This past weekend I had the opportunity to work with some ponies, all with different personalities and levels of training. While they are really no different than horses, they are often treated differently and are in some cases so small that adults can’t get in the saddle, which may mean they might lack some basic training.
