Learning to be around horses differently

I spent years working with horses.

I knew how to get things done. I knew how to handle horses, how to groom them, how to work with them and how to get the outcome I wanted.

Then I had to learn how to be around horses differently.

And honestly, I still have to remind myself not to fall back into old habits.

Does that mean the way I used to work with horses was wrong?

No. Definitely not.

But it wasn’t always supporting my nervous system. My focus was on the horse and the outcome. There was a job to do, a timeframe to do it in, and an end goal.

That’s very different from working with yourself around horses.

Take grooming a horse.

When you’re grooming for the horse, there is a purpose. You’re getting the dirt off, perhaps increasing blood flow to an area, getting them ready for something. You have a job to do.

When I groom with an EFL mindset, I have to slow everything down. I focus on my breath. My movements become intentionally slower and longer so that my body doesn’t tense. I become more present.

The activity hasn’t really changed. The focus has.

The internal exhale

And I think this is something horse people understand without necessarily giving themselves permission to experience it.

Think about the end of the day when all the horses have been fed. The jobs are done. Things slow down. There can be this moment of pause, almost like an internal exhale as everything aligns.

I think that’s why so many equestrians love that time of day.

But what if we gave ourselves more of those moments?

Taking a minute out of your day to watch your horse run around the field simply because you can.

Giving yourself permission to scratch their ear a little longer because you want to, and they’re enjoying it.

Stopping to smell the roses throughout the day because it feeds the soul.

That’s the part I want people to experience.

A plan, but always ready to pivot

You should always have an idea going into an EFL session. Before a session, I think about what’s safe, who I’m working with, what I know about them and which horses might be appropriate.

But until we’re actually in the session, I don’t know exactly what’s needed or wanted.

So my idea stays loose.

I watch how the horses respond. I notice what comes up for the person. I pay attention to which horses interact, how comfortable the person is with me and whether they feel safe enough to explore whatever is coming up for them.

And I’m always ready to pivot.

Sometimes my original idea changes completely. That’s not the session going wrong. That’s the session being responsive to what’s actually happening.

Choice is feedback

The horses are part of that.

Before every session, I spend time with each horse. I look at how they’re responding to me, to the other horses and to the weather. It gives me a baseline.

Because if we control a horse and remove their choice to interact or not interact, we’re losing massive amounts of feedback.

The horse needs to be able to say yes.

They also need to be able to say no.

If a horse doesn’t want to participate, we don’t force it.

What that brings up for the person is theirs to explore. Someone might feel rejected. Another person might simply move on to another horse. Someone else might notice something completely different.

And that’s the point.

The horse isn’t there to help the client

The horse is not there to help the client.

The horse is there to give feedback.

It’s my job as the facilitator to help the client make sense of their own experience. It’s not my job to tell them what their horse means.

I’ve had full sessions where I’ve known something has shifted for a client, that they’ve had a breakthrough of some kind, while having absolutely no idea what was happening in their life because they didn’t want to share it with me.

And that’s okay.

It’s their session.

My job isn’t to interpret their experience for them.

It’s to create a space where they can have it.

Respect goes both ways

That means knowing my horses really well. Knowing what is normal for them and what isn’t. Understanding their individual personalities. Paying attention when something changes.

It also means making sure the client knows they are allowed to have boundaries, and that those boundaries will be respected.

The same goes for the horses.

If the horse isn’t respected, they aren’t going to be a genuine partner in the process.

And that’s something I take seriously. Part of my job is constantly improving my knowledge of how to care for and understand the horses, because their needs have to be met to a high standard.

So, is this work about the horse?

ZenFoal is about the person.

But for the person to have the best possible experience, the horses need to be well cared for, comfortable and free to make choices.

So, is this work about the horse?

No.

It’s not about the horse.

It’s about the person.

But the horse matters enormously.

Sometimes the most important thing a horse can give someone isn’t an interaction at all.

Sometimes it’s the opportunity to slow down.

To breathe.

To notice.

To stop trying to achieve something for a moment.

To experience that little internal exhale.

And maybe, just maybe, to realise that they are allowed to have that moment outside the field too.