Smith - The Path of the Centaur

Running head: Path of the Centaur 1

The Path of the Centaur: Insights into facilitating partnership with

horses to improve people's lives

Paul C. Smith

Centaur Leadership Services - Prescott College

Submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of

Doctor of Philosophy

from

Prescott College

in

Sustainability Education

MAY 2012

Deborah Sugerman, PhD

Committee Member

Tracy Weber, PhD

Committee Member

Rick Medrick, PhD

Committee Chair

Dan Garvey, PhD

External Expert Reader


Author Note

This book is my offering to people who are dedicated to facilitating personal growth and

transformational change for individuals, groups and society.

It’s a journey, so enjoy the ride…

Paul

220 Grove Ave, Prescott, AZ, 86301

E-mail: [email protected]

mailto:[email protected]


Abstract

As a species we are at a critical juncture in the evolution of our humanness regarding our impact

and responsibility in a more-than-human world. To support and further expand positive

directions in our evolution we need compelling and effective approaches for facilitating

increased awareness and positive growth in areas of relationship, leadership, and mutual

responsibility. One promising modality in the field of Experiential Education is further

development of Equine-Assisted Learning: programs that partner people with horses to develop

intra- and interpersonal awareness and skills. This research project explores what we can learn

from intentional partnering with horses and how that can inform more effective individual and

collective approaches to being more fully human. A blending of injunctions from Mindfulness

Inquiry and Action Research informed the implementation of a three month horse-packing

expedition across Arizona as a Contemplative Journey. Participants followed a practice of

spending regular undemanding time with the horses and recording their responses to the query,

“You are the teacher, I am the student, what is the lesson?”

The daily immersion in living and travelling in the back country with horses supported

lessons related to: curiosity, boundaries, consistency, personal presence and reciprocity of care.

Special attention is paid to the facilitation of learning and approaches to increasing the impact of

Equine-Assisted Learning programs.

Keywords: Equine-Assisted Learning, EAL, Equine-Assisted Mental

Health, EAMH, facilitation skills, experiential education, relational horsemanship


Preface

As a passionate educator I am on a continuous journey of personal exploration, growth,

and improvement. The touchstone of that journey’s three decades has been the adventure of

experiential learning in natural settings. Within that history I have become dedicated to a deeper

exploration of a relational approach to playing, partnering, and working with horses.

If I can share only one idea from my lifetime of adventures, travels, and enthusiasm for

experiential education it is this: the power of curiosity. An amazing gift in my life has been the

people who have--in the presence of difference or conflict--responded with a genuine sense of

open curiosity, of ‘How fascinating, I would have never thought of it like that…’, or ‘What do

you mean by…?’ This quality of curiosity; genuine exploration that offers spontaneous

questions, is invaluable in developing a healthy relationship with living beings, whether horse,

human, oneself or natural settings. It is this sense of curiosity that drives the content of this

manuscript.

This work’s primary audience is likely to be students and practitioners of Equine-

Assisted Learning (EAL) and Equine-Assisted Mental Health (EAMH). However, the questions,

observations, and ideas presented here are relevant to anyone working in a learner-centered

experiential setting. One of my primary interests is to encourage instructors in all these fields to

escape the narrow enclosure of each specific field. We all have a great deal to teach each other

and the possibility of transfer to and from Equine-Assisted programs and other fields is deep and

rich.

Some of the ideas and questions presented here will spark reflections on your own

experience and intentions, while other parts may be less applicable. Feel free to treat it as a

buffet rather than something to be swallowed whole. As my grandmother always advised


regarding food and information; take just what you need, and chew it well. It is my intention that

what you find here will nourish you and your practice.

With that in mind, I have refrained from making this a how-to cookbook approach to

Equine-Assisted Learning (EAL). Rather it is an exploration of questions and concepts that have

informed and deepened my own practice as an educator. We are visual creatures so I have

partnered with graphic artists and facilitators to design a number of visual representations of

ideas and models. These models may inspire you to see the same material from slightly different

perspectives. That new view can catalyze fresh connections, thoughts and ideas for your work.

Some of you prefer to read straight through from beginning to end. Others, I know, tend

to bounce around looking for the overall gist or useful nuggets. At the end of this introduction,

you will find a brief summary of each of the chapters. These descriptions may pique your

curiosity and provide reference points to guide you towards sections that will be most useful on

your own journey.

The heart of this manuscript is inspired by an expedition across Arizona in the fall of

2009. A Centaur’s Journey; the Arizona Trail Expedition was a three-month long immersion in

learning through intentional partnership with horses. We set out to experience a day-in and day-

out practical, applied partnership with horses. We were intent to explore our capacity for

relationship with them, and draw insight into ourselves from their gifts as teachers and partners

along the way. In many ways the horses served as mirrors of our relationship with ‘other-than-

human’ aspects of our world; beings that we literally depended on to carry us through our days,

but that were also dependent on us.

This journey grows out of a cultural context where we are exploring new roles for horses

as partners in learning and healing in our lives (Hallberg, 2009; Miller & Lamb, 2005). There


are millions of people who have spent significant amounts of time with horses; time generally

spent in pursuit of work or pleasure. Many of them would say that their relationship with horses

enriches their lives. Yet only a fraction of these people seem to have been shaped in truly

profound ways by the relationships. There are now, however, tens of thousands of programs

around the world putting horses and people together pursuing a wide variety of educational,

personal growth, or therapeutic goals1. Such programs aim to profoundly change a person’s way

of looking at and being in the world, being in relationship to self and others. Unfortunately for

participants in these equine-assisted programs, as with many other experiential modalities, the

number of people forging a depth of connections that leads to transformation simply through

participation in the activity is small. However, intentional skillful facilitation can help catalyze

the transformation which experiential educators believe is at the heart of our work.

On the expedition we steeped ourselves in the pursuit of such transformation, assisted and

inspired by our equine partners. In that environment of immersion--removed in both time and

place from what most people would define as ‘reality’--we afforded ourselves the rare

opportunity to delve into the potential for transformation when a person’s intentional relational

focus is an equine partner.

This manuscript connects the lessons expedition members learned and my ongoing work

as an experiential educator back to the wider field of EAL. We’ll consider the outcomes of that

journey, and the theoretical foundations that inform and inspire us as experiential educators in

program design, practices, and delivery.

1 In 2011 the two primary membership associations, Equine Assisted Growth and Learning Association (EAGALA)

and the Professional Association of Therapeutic Horsemanship International (PATH Intl.) listed a combined membership of 10,000 people. Many of these members were also connected with one or more of practitioner training organizations such as: Horse Sense of the Carolinas, Adventures in Awareness, Kaleidoscope Learning Circle, Equine Guided Education Association, OK Corral, and or Centaur Leadership Services.


Ultimately the territory is ground that has been covered by many other theoreticians and

practitioners. But by approaching this material through the context and lessons of Equine-

Assisted programs we can explore valuable new perspectives on familiar ideas and models that

will serve to inform and support the transformation of your work as a facilitator, teacher, or

healer. The pieces that resonate with you will take shape in the context of your work and will

ripple out to touch to the lives of the participants you work with.

If you have spent much time around the field of Equine-assisted work or any time around

horses and their people, you are well aware that there is no shortage of opinions and approaches

out there. You also know that some people and programs are rigidly formulaic, having done the

same thing in the same way forever. Although the services these varied programs offer all fall

within the field of EAL there are times it seems as if they are talking about totally different

realities-- reminiscent of the story of the five blind men describing the various parts of an

elephant. One who touched a leg was sure that the elephant was round and strong like a tree,

while another felt the large side and believed an elephant to be like a wall, the trunk was like a

mighty python, the ears like a large fan, and the man who grabbed the tail thought that maybe an

elephant was like a fly swatter. Each perception is valuable, but it can be dangerous to confuse

the part we initially see with a broader perspective of the power and potential of the whole.

On other occasions different practitioners in the field seem to be pointing in the same

basic direction but from different vantage points. This reminds me of a short exercise Dan

Garvey, then President of Prescott College, shared. Dan asked an auditorium full of faculty and

graduate students to stand, close their eyes, and point North. Some people just stood there and

refrained from participating, everyone else pointed in a wide variety of directions. Some

confidently pointed in the direction they knew to be correct. Others peeked to see where the


majority, or some key authority, was pointing and joined in. A few defiantly pointed in their

own unique direction, or mimed “Oh, you meant that North.” when they learned that they were

wrong. Even after he pulled out a compass and indicated Magnetic North, a few, Dan suggested,

might have had this internal monologue: “Well yes, that’s Magnetic North, but I was

considering declination and pointing towards ‘True North.”

Indeed, this range of approaches was clearly played out among a group of fairly like-

minded individuals on a subject with only one answer. It is part of human nature to believe in

one’s own internal compass; that part of us that sure wants to believe we know where we are

headed. Yet so much of where we are or need to be headed is not nearly as simple or clearly

defined as North. Still we point, we peek, and at times defiantly defend what we happen to see

as the way. What is often lacking in any approach is the willingness to not know. Is it possible

to be curious and wonder what will happen next, if we really watch, really listen, really trust the

process that unfolds before us every moment? Is it possible for us to see another perspective,

and the benefits it can offer us?

One of the guiding mantras in the graduate programs in EAMH and EAL at Prescott

College has become:

Depending on your background and skills, relative to the population you are working

with and their goals, you are asking a different question of the work than someone else may be

asking. And if you are asking a different question, it is really important that you be willing to

find your own answer.

This mantra is a simple reminder to be curious about the questions that others may be asking and

to seek an understanding of what motivates their interest. The people with different perspectives

are often the ones most likely to add greater depth and breadth to our own understanding. Peter

Block, a community and organizational development trainer, encourages participants in his

community conversations with this: It is the one least like you that might have the most to offer


you or for you to learn from. Those who are closest to us or most like-minded tend to reflect to

us all that we already believe to be true (Block, 2007). While close friends can do a wonderful

job of pointing out our blind spots; it is significantly divergent views that will challenge us, and

perhaps change us, if we are willing to be truly curious about other perspectives in the situation.

For us on the expedition that ‘other’ was our horse partner. We based the inquiry on the

question framed by long time teacher and practitioner, Barbara Rector: “You are the teacher; I

am the student, what is the lesson?” Being curious in this way carries its risks. One risk is that

you will change, or your approach to your work may have to change; you may end up rethinking

your whole program. Change is inherently destabilizing. It can create conflict both internally

and externally, and is not a challenge many people take lightly. Buried deep in the heart of such

growth is the place where we realize that saying yes to new ideas or possibilities can be exciting,

but with every ‘yes’ we then get to learn to ask ourselves what is it we are willing or able to say

‘no’ to.

As with the tagline of Prescott College ‘Education is a journey, not a destination’, in our

work with people and horses, ‘Life is a journey, so enjoy the ride.”


The Map

Path of the Centaur………………………………………………p12

This chapter looks at the challenge facing our species and the evolution of human

consciousness in a more-than-human world. The role of horse through time and their evolving

current roles are explored in the context of an Integral Model of development. Theories that

inform a vision of our path as a Centaur’s Journey and a context are provided for partnering with

horse as an effective teacher on the path towards a fuller human potential.

A Journey with a purpose………………………………………………… p31

A careful look at what we think we know and the beliefs on which we build our world

view is at the crux of meaningful inquiry. In this chapter the vision of the Centaur’s Journey,

and the research tenets of Mindfulness Inquiry and Action Research are blended into the design

of The Arizona Trail Expedition as a contemplative journey of inquiry.


You are the teacher……………………………………………….p45

While the world of ideas and theory can be captivating, this chapter turns our attention to

a more pragmatic look at partnering with horses. I provide a model for looking at Equine-

Assisted Learning in terms of activities represented by four phases of programming: Beginning,

Creating Connection, Relationship and Task, and Endings. This model provides a framework

for practitioners to clearly organize the arc of learning available throughout a full range of

human –horse interactions.

What is the lesson…………………………………………………p68

By connecting specific lessons gleaned from the Arizona Trail Expedition with the

broader pertinent lessons participants report from Equine-Assisted programs, this chapter

outlines the lessons available from bringing humans and horses together which inform my goals

as a facilitator.

Deepening the experience………………………………………p97

Horses have amazing gifts to share and lessons to teach us. Our ability to access these

lessons and transfer them effectively into our lives in meaningful and appropriate ways is greatly

enhanced by the art of facilitation. This chapter encourages the development of skills and

perspectives as facilitator that will help us take our participants below the surface of experience

to the source of transformation.

Possibilities…putting the pieces together…………………..p122

This chapter brings the pieces together and provides a vision of what the active

facilitation of Equine-Assisted Learning can look like. Examples help illustrate structuring and

framing activities for a variety of populations and goals.

References…………………………………………………….p144


The Path of the Centaur

The Centaur’s Legacy

In mythic history the character Chiron was an immortal Centaur. As the only Greek God

lacking a character flaw, Chiron was a mentor to many of the gods. Chiron was described as the

wounded healer. Poisoned by an arrow of Hercules, he could not heal his own wounds even

though he was an immortal and had the gift of healing. Chiron was very generous with his gifts

to mankind. He taught Hippocrates the secrets of medicine and ultimately sacrificed his

immortality in order to persuade Prometheus to give the power of fire to humans.

The half horse-half human figure of the centaur is also steeped in the mythology and

lessons from our co-evolution with horses. Historically the centaur represents many of the

fundamental lessons related to strength, compassion, and balance of mind, body, and spirit that

we humans struggle to learn. More recently the image of the centaur has been used to evoke and

represent an advanced stage in the evolution of human consciousness.

The Evolution of Our Humanness

In his seminal work on integral psychology, Ken Wilber refers to a “post-formal

operations, vision-logic stage of development” as Centauric (Wilber, 1997). This Centauric

stage is conceptualized as: the leading edge of traditional western models of adult development--

and as a bridge to the more spiritual dimensions of transpersonal development. The image of the

human torso fully integrated into the well-grounded body of Equus is quite fitting in that it

literally re-members, or puts back in place the natural roots of our body-based knowing.

Simultaneously it acknowledges and elevates our human skills of contextual thinking, self-

reflexive awareness, and capacity to understand other; skills which represent humanity at our

best. The half horse-half human prophetic image of the centaur represents the union of mind and


body, of human being and human doing; the union of relationship and task. This is a vision of

human potential as integration of our body-based animal self with our cognitive elements. It

moves beyond the way we habitually think, act, and react.

Discernment Sharp Enough to Cut Things Together

Our ways of living and being are often reduced to experiencing the world as dichotomous

splits: human versus other-than-human, or mind versus body. Centauric vision suggests a way in

which the boundary between each counter point is a point of contact instead of separation. It is

not, however, simply collapsing the pieces together into a muddled ‘oneness.’ Rather, it is a

challenge to move beyond the gross judgment that dully separates us into me and you--the

deeper relationship religious philosopher, Martin Buber (1970) referred to as I and thou; human

and non-human; present actions and future impacts acknowledged and supported as an

inextricable web that links all aspects of living.

Centauric vision-logic calls for a shift in awareness beyond the judgments inherent in our

regular patterns of thought. It serves as a reminder that when we feel a rising sense of certainty

or attachment to a position it would be wise to be very curious about the assumptions and blind

spots inherent in that position. Centauric vision represents movement to a level of noticing that

places the discernment of distinction between objects or states of being into a much more subtle

and wonderfully complex context. The poet David Whyte beautifully describes this as the

discernment of an artist, a level of awareness that is sharp enough to cut things together.

Whyte tells a story of the Zen butcher’s knife that finds the place of contact between the bones,

the muscles, and the cells in such a way that it actually grows sharper through use (Whyte,

1996).


It is this incisive clarity of discernment that holds the possibility of being impeccable

without being critical. It invites us to be open to the lessons of new and challenging experiences

without a categorical dismissal of previous perspectives. Exploring the dimension of sentient

partnership with horses supports our hopes for more just and compassionate ways of being, while

challenging long held human-centric assumptions regarding mental, emotional, somatic ways of

knowing and relating. It requires us to see, hear, feel and respond to a world where the

consequence of our choices and actions reach well beyond the limits of today and of our skin-

encapsulated egos.

The Role of Horse in Human History

As one of the most successful domesticated species, horses have held a number of key

roles in human history. Throughout our shared history horses have served as transportation,

beasts of burden, implements of war, and athletic partners. There is also evidence of horses

having served as teachers, healers, and guides along the human path of social evolution (Rink,

2004). When the people of the Mongolian Steppes first climbed on the backs of their milk mares

over 5,000 years ago and began to travel the countryside (Rink, 2004), they significantly

transformed their relationship to time. Distances that had up until then taken weeks to cross

were accessible in mere days; weights that previously were prohibitive could be carried or

pulled. Over the following centuries, the military advantages of height, speed, and strength

provided by a cavalry advanced the spread of Asian and European powers, while the equally

developed but less mobile Mayan and Incan civilizations did not expand as far. The role of

equines in different cultures’ expansion left in its wake stories and myths that were quite

different for the ancestors of the mounted riders sweeping across the countryside versus the

agrarian family suddenly confronted by these ‘invading hordes’.


A Shift in Human-Horse Relationships

As the ways in which people used and leveraged the power of horses evolved over time,

the stories of the nature of people’s relationship to horses and how horses are handled, cared for,

and trained has also changed. We are now at a time in our species’ history when these long

standing partners have a very different role to play in the development of our humanness. If we

take the time and effort we may come to find that these creatures which have transported and

transformed us across the centuries still have many things to offer us as we travel together on a

new phase of our journey. If we are willing to be genuinely curious, and to explore new paths of

learning, we may learn lessons from them that matter enough that we are actually willing to live

into new patterns of relationship with ourselves, each other, and the planet that supports us.

A Shift in Our Humanness

A growing number and range of people: from philosophers to teachers, children, parents,

and politicians are actively expressing the need for humans to significantly change the attitudes

and behaviors that threaten both ecological and social health of all life on this planet (Gardener,

2007; McMichael, 2012; Orr, 1993; Roszak, Gomes, & Kanner, 1995; P. M. Senge, Scharmer,

Jaworski, & Flowers, 2004). Some believe we have crossed a tipping point where the end of the

story has been tragically set in motion and that any changes are both too little and too late. It is

clear that a profound shift in human consciousness, contextual prioritization, and web-like

integration of relationships is imperative.

A mounting bank of exciting evidence suggests this shift is actually occurring (Beck &

Cowan, 1996; Korten, 2006; Macy, 2007; McMichael, 2012; Ray & Anderson, 2000). Bradbury

and Reason, in the introduction to their work on Social Action Research, state that “The

emergent worldview has been described as systemic, holistic, relational, feminine, and


experiential, but its defining characteristic is that it is participatory. Our world does not consist

of separate things but of relationships which we co-author” (Bradbury & Reason, 2003). A

number of leaders and educators are actively pursuing both the knowledge to inform our future,

and ways of re-imaging and actively ‘learning into’ that future. Despite huge uncertainty,

economic disaster, and social unrest there is a sense of Hope among the many people committed

to personal, social, and ecological justice. We are developing approaches to education and ways

of knowing that support an active evolution of human consciousness. Ways of being that are

informed by expanding contextual frames of human values are evolving (Goleman, 2006b;

Mezirow, 2000; P. Senge, Scharmer, Jarworski, & Flowers, 2004). There is a rising sense of

purpose that is neither explained by, nor necessarily even consistent with our traditionally

rational and empirical ways of understanding.

It was in this sense that Freire spoke of our vocation or our calling to become fully

human (Freire, 1970). It is a purpose that some people are slowly collectively learning our way

into; generation after generation, century after century (Ray & Anderson, 2000). Both personally

and collectively at each moment in time we are at the edge of where our humanness seems barely

able to imagine or respond to the challenges and complexities before us. Yet time and again we

have found the teachers, perspectives, and resources to move forward into a way of being that

those before could only vaguely point towards. While there is plenty of anecdotal evidence to

support this perspective of a positive and sane evolution of human consciousness, there are also

the painful and devastating neurotic layers of complexity, domination, exploitation, and the

myopic ego-centric, ethno-centric, and human-centric attitudes and behaviors that threaten the

very existence of humanity. It is at least in part this tension between the sense of the possible


and the well-habituated shortcomings of humanity that calls us to connect with representatives of

a broader world.

At times the phrase other than human is used to imply human as less than, and as a

romantic exaltation of all that is other than human. However, we can reclaim what seems to

have been the original intent of David Abram when he coined the phrase in his book The Spell of

the Sensuous (1997) to acknowledge the natural world while actively including human beings

within what people call "nature." Abram’s re-authoring of the phrase "non-human" with "more-

than-human" challenges our tendency to put humans at the center and everything else at the

margins. When “more than” is not evaluative, but an invitation to expand the conceptual

context, the phrase more than human reflects the importance of looking beyond the immediate

human sphere (Abram 1997).

Simple conscious connecting can serve as a catalyst for fresh insight and new

perspectives. It can also help us articulate and actively encourage learning new ways of being as

humans. By connecting with horses as emissaries of the larger more than human world, we can

explore more sustainable patterns of relationship on a personal, social, and ecological level. This

calling towards previously unlived versions of our humanness, and the immensity of the

challenges facing us and the planet, invites us forward on the path of the centaur. The journey to

engage ourselves and others in learning about living more fully into our potential as a species

may not be an easy one, but the rewards for all species will be profound.

Our Path as a Practice

There is a level of focus that is required to fully explore any one particular lineage or

prescribed path of learning. On transformative paths, in order to find water you must be willing

to dig one well. The discipline that is required to stay with a practice, even in the darkness or


through the hard spots is an antidote to the romantic narcissism that would have us skate across

the surface of life, picking and choosing the bits and pieces of various traditions, practices, and

endeavors that soothe the ego or feel good. This is an important reminder of the hard work and

focus which is required to move past the surface enthusiasm of possibility and into tapping life’s

true lessons and potential.

The basic challenge is found in the structure and evolution of human nature, claims Jean

M. Twenge and W. Keith Campbell in The Narcissism Epidemic: Living in the Age of

Entitlement (2009). As a narcissistic society we tend to place ourselves in the center and “grade”

everything else according to how it may benefit us. Too often we connect to the world through

the adopted belief of self-entitlement. However, in a world that is interconnected and

interdependent this is precisely how we must not function. According to Campbell and Twenge,

in order to succeed we must want to benefit those to whom we are connected just as much as we

wish to benefit ourselves. There must be reciprocity not only with other people but with the very

world we depend on for life.

One of the lessons any lineage will teach is the importance of finding and committing

yourself to a teacher. Some practitioners would say that if one is holding Centauric vision as a

focus, horses as sentient beings can be that teacher. This however requires a level of discipline

and responsibility on our part as students that I would suggest few of us seem to possess on our

own, but which can be evoked with the support of a like-minded community, the wisdom of a

tradition or teacher, or the guidance of a skilled facilitator. In working with horses, people are

potentially able to more freely explore the points of contact which represent layers of boundaries

that two beings can traverse together.


By recognizing both the subtle and causal layers of boundaries that are a part of an

encounter with ‘other’ and exploring what is so often experienced as defensive layers of

protection, instead as points of choice, our mental model of boundaries can be reclaimed as

essential points of contact in relationships. Starting at initial awareness of each other’s presence,

through becoming relevant in a way that impacts each other’s choices or actions, on to direct

contact, and finally to partnering together in a relationship for a shared purpose, there is a rich

and fertile landscape to be explored. In this resonant and dynamic learning environment we can

delve into our own specific areas for growth at each of those points of contact. The human-horse

dynamic can loosen layers of expectations and rationality or the calloused deadening too often

part of human-human interactions. However, in order to access these lessons we have to slow

down, notice more, be willing to get curious about how what we notice teaches us about

ourselves, and even what we might be missing. It is this curiosity, and the awareness of self it

engenders, that provides a path towards transformation into a more fully conscious human being.

For most of us, our progress down this path benefits from--or even requires an active facilitation


of the journey. This manuscript is about ideas, concepts and models that can help you; not only

on your own journey, but as a guide for others along the path.

An Evolution of Consciousness

Over time, from a variety of wisdom traditions have come many sophisticated theories as

to what the potential evolution of Human Consciousness may look like. Philosophers, scholars,

and monastics that have based these visions of the possible on the injunctions of their various

traditions all point towards perennial patterns of our humanness. Ken Wilber (1995) effectively

synthesized these perennial ideas from most significant world wisdom traditions to argue a

sequential development of the evolution of human consciousness. It is at this edge of normal

healthy psychological development that Wilbur describes the Centauric or Vision-Logic stage.

A basic understanding of the nature of these models can provide a point of reference for our own

work, both personally and with our participants. Wilber’s work has the modest goal of

articulating an integral map of everything. It is his work in the areas of spiritual development,

philosophy and psychology that will be most relevant to facilitating growth and learning through

partnership with horses.

In order to reference some of his key concepts throughout the manuscript we need to

gain a basic understanding of Integral Theory. For our purposes here it will be helpful to have a

shared understanding of three core concepts from Integral Theory. The three core contributions

that provide an entry point into this material are: an ‘All Quadrants All Levels’ map of the

cosmos, the relationship between depth and breadth and a natural order as represented through

the concept of holons and Holarchy, and the connection of these two concepts in the case of

human development and the evolution of consciousness.


All Quadrants All Levels. The purpose of a physical map is to provide points of

reference that allow us to recognize or navigate the world around us, or to imagine places and

lands that we never even see. Similar to digital maps where you can add layers of information to

focus on different features or even zoom out to a satellite view to literally see how the map

connects with the world you see around you, Wilber’s four quadrants provide a basic orientation

of coordinates onto which other layers can be added. He does not claim that there are only four

quadrants, rather he recognizes that major wisdom traditions all seem to recognize at least these

four dimensions. The quadrants are defined on the vertical axis by interior and exterior and on

the horizontal axis by individual and collective (diag1). This is most relevant as a reminder that

these quadrants represent different ways of knowing. While we often focus on one of these

quadrants, in trying to hold an integral or more holistic view of our life and work it is important

to not reduce our view to any one quadrant as if that represented the whole.

Each of these quadrants represents a way of perceiving the world. Each requires a

different form of inquiry or injunction to understand it. The exterior quadrants lend themselves

to subjective observation. You can, for example, observe in great detail all the parts and

functions of the human brain, but in order to know what someone is thinking or feeling you have


to ask them a question. It requires a very different form of injunction or inquiry to access the

subjective interior nature of someone’s experience.

The two exterior quadrants are clearly the realm of descriptive science. While it is

critical and quite helpful to recognize the distinctions between the individual and collective

dimensions of these two quadrants, together they represent ways of knowing that views reality as

an ‘it.’ From this vantage point, systems theory, while expansive, is not holistic if it maintains

an exterior perspective. The danger is the subtle reductionism that easily confuses the part for

the whole. If these two quadrants are viewed together the overall model represents three major

dimensions that show up across various philosophical traditions (Wilber, 1995):

o The big three of Habermas’ validity claims: I, we, and it

o Plato’s: the Beautiful, the Good, and the True

o The three major domains of Kant's three critiques:

Art and self-expression of the I (Critique of Judgment) 1st person

Morals or we (Critique of Practical Reason) 2nd

person

Science or its (Critique of Pure Reason) 3rd

person

The Holarchy

Within each of these areas there are sequences of development that, while more like

nested spheres than a direct line, move from simple to complex. In describing this sequence

Wilber uses a term, Holarchy, as introduced by Arthur Koestler (Koestler, 1989). The term

Holarchy reclaims the useful aspects of hierarchy as a clear order to the cosmos while trying to

shed some of the ‘baggage’ ‘hierarchy’ acquired through centuries of oppression and abuse of

power-based systems. The basic concept of a Holarchy is that everything is simultaneously both

a part and a whole. It is, as Arthur Koestler proposed in his book The Ghost in the Machine


(1989) a ‘holon.’ For example, an atom of hydrogen or oxygen can be recognized as complete

and whole and can simultaneously be a part of a molecule of water, which itself is both a whole

and a part of deeper, more complex constructs. Key elements of a sequence of holons or a

Holarchy are: there is an order of increasing complexity that cannot be inverted; you cannot have

a molecule of water, unless you first have hydrogen and oxygen atoms; and there are emergent

properties of each subsequent holon that are not necessarily present in the separate parts. Notice

the implication that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. There is nothing in a molecule

of hydrogen that suggests fluid or refreshing, steamy or as cold as ice. Breadth or volume is not

the same as depth. Water is not better than hydrogen, without hydrogen water would not exist,

but water is simply more deeply complex, or within this construct, more whole. There is a

related line of development in each of the four quadrants. There is an individual and collective

expression of each of these as well as an interior and exterior dimension.

Language provides an example of another property of Holarchy. If we accept that

meaning or truth exist, then we can see that symbolic representation of meaning rises from

context perfectly full and complete. Imagine meaning being the paper on which you write the

letter ‘a.’ The ‘a’ arises out of the meaning and contains its own meaning of a-ness; if ‘a’ is

contained in the word bark, there is another Holon with its own emergent meaning. But this

meaning is dependent on the next level of complexity--context; is it the bark of a dog, or the bark

of a tree? The layers of language holons continue up through a series of discrete easily identified

levels; sentences, paragraphs, books, libraries, or the total collection of everything that has ever

been written.

When we apply this concept to the evolution of our humanity it provides a way to think

about both individual and collective trajectories of development. From a collective external


perspective we can identify some of the vast particles and forces that define the physiosphere:

the particles, atoms, elements, and molecules that are the substance of all physical reality. Then

there is a physically smaller but, in Holarchy terms, more whole biosphere that supports

organisms which have emergent properties including; reproduction, mobility, and self-regulation.

Next there is an emergent level of the noosphere, from the Greek noos, meaning mind. This

level includes human thought, but also the potential for other forms of self-reflexive activity and

awareness in other creatures. It is interesting to note that one of the main factors that

traditionally limit the noosphere to human thought is our lack of language for and inability to ask

questions of the interior experience of other species; so we are left with an inherently biased

interpretation of human projection to identify self-consciousness or emotions in other sentient

beings. There is some interesting work being done on recognizing emotions and complex mental

processes and motivations in a wide range of organisms as divergent as ants, horses, orangutans,

elephants, and octopi (Bekoff, 2007). While recognizing the importance of all these expressions

of consciousness, there are clearly unique emergent properties that are embodied by the

collective human holon.

The Path of Development

Looking specifically at the line of individual human psychological development takes us

to the final concept to cover from Wilber’s work before moving on. It is helpful to have an

understanding of what Wilbur identifies in developmental theory as the ‘pre-trans fallacy’. In

the case of individual human psychological development we are most familiar with a directional

path that we each traverse from a pre-personal, infantile state through a series of stages that

represent individuation. These stages are well defined by stage theorists like Piaget (1932).


Beyond this familiar territory of human development are the stages of human potential.

These more spiritual and integrated stages of consciousness are referred to as trans-personal and

are areas of development that move beyond the limits of our skin encapsulated ego. There are

numerous similarities between certain aspects of the pre-personal and the transpersonal

expression of development. While there are clearly shared spiritual dimensions between the

fusion state of consciousness experienced both by infants merged with their caretakers and in our

contact with the natural world, it is different than the emergent consciousness that comes from

the integration of subtle levels of existence beyond the personal. Or, as Jack Engler famously

put it: “You have to be somebody before you can become nobody” (Cohen, 2000).

When pre-personal and trans-personal stages are misunderstood as being identical, one or

two errors of reduction occur. Either trans-personal states or experiences are reduced to being

pre-personal, or pre-personal states are elevated to and confused with trans-personal states. In

the first case, which is the stance of traditional western science and psychology, trans-personal

states can be misidentified as delusional or psychotic. In the second, the day-in and day-out of

personal life is seen as a fall from grace or innocence that we are trying to regain.

This is not to say that there are not psychotic or delusional states that are important to

identify, or that there are not lessons to be learned from retreating to simple state of bliss and

communion. But, as facilitators of growth and transformation, it is critically important that we

strive to see and understand the assumptions from which we are operating -- and their

implications in the application and interpretation of the work we do.

Social Evolution

This dynamic of an evolutionary trajectory occurs on the collective as well as the

individual level. One incredibly useful model of conscious evolution on a social level is Dr.


Claire Graves’ model of Spiral Dynamics as described by Don Beck and Chris Cowen (Beck &

Cowan, 1996). Dr. Graves’ model outlines a cyclical, double-helix which identifies specific

emergent capacities of adult bio-psycho-social development. In Spiral Dynamics, the two

highest stages recognized, a second tier of human consciousness, are referred to by the colors

yellow and turquoise. Other western developmental models similar to that of Spiral Dynamics,

such as work by Robert Kegan or Jane Loevinger, generally define second tier characteristics as

the highest levels of human development. Jane Loevinger refers to the roughly equivalent levels

as “autonomous” and “integrated”(Loevinger, 1974). In Robert Kegan's five orders of

consciousness, second tier would be roughly equivalent to his fifth order (Kegan, 1982).

While similar stages are recognized in more esoteric eastern psychologies, they are not

seen as an endpoint, but simply another step in a much broader unfolding. The evolutionary

philosopher Sri Arubindo’s teachings outline ten or eleven steps along the path (Aurobindo,

1985). What he calls “higher mind” would be equivalent to the second tier of Spiral Dynamics.

But in these teachings, even beyond the higher mind there is illumined mind, then intuitive mind,

then over-mind, super-mind, and then satchitananda-- the ever-present oneness; at least four or

five stages described as beyond the qualities of second tier. So while second tier is sometimes

referred to as “integral,” it is only because it’s more integral than historical first tier ways of

navigating reality. These higher levels of consciousness described by intensive mindfulness

practices are even more integral, pointing towards and possibly even beyond super integral states

of union of consciousness.

While we may never collectively as a species attain such levels of enlightenment, the

next few steps in the evolution of our own humanness indicate reason for hope and faith.

Through personal commitment to continued growth into our own humanness, we are discovering


ways of knowing and being which will manifest in more ecologically and socially just habits of

living.

But how does this relate to our work with people and horses? Taking the time to

understand our existing assumptions and to develop a fuller understanding of human

development models is important. Partnering with horses with the express intent of

understanding more effective and compassionate modes of relating takes us outside of the

immediate human sphere in a way that provides much needed perspective. Models that seek to

illuminate the nature of development can provide a reference point or map of the territory that we

seek to explore with our participants. People who are having difficulty navigating basic personal

and social functioning are on the same path as the most self-aware and emotionally intelligent

person who touches our lives. However, the types of structures and practices that support the

movement of the more self-actualized ones along the path are very different from ones that

support those who still struggle with the basic skills of being human.

A simple proverb that articulates some of the challenges along this collective path is: The

more things change, the more they stay the same (Karr, 1849). This captures the basic paradox

that we must tolerate in this evolution of human consciousness. While there seems to be a clear

developmental progression for both individual and collective consciousness, there are

fundamental challenges and issues imbedded in the human condition that seem to be consistent

throughout recorded history. They are the fundamental existential and developmental issues of

our humanness; our vulnerability, neediness, our quest for individuality and relatedness, and our

defensive responses. These challenges are expressed in the mytho-poetic traditions of ancient

Greek stories, the human nature of everyman told though the stories of the Holy Grail and the


Knights of the Round Table, characters from Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress and Dante’s Divine

Comedy, and the texts of modern developmental psychology.

All these teachings point to aspects of our humanity that tie our species together over

time--independent of culture, gender, or available technology. It is not that the next generation

does not have to go through the same set of developmental and existential issues; however, the

context or system they are born into often times provides a different or evolving context for the

manifestation and cultural perspective within which the issues are engaged. We are handed

structures and beliefs for interpreting experience. These beliefs, along with the habits of

perception we develop, literally construct the world that we habitually perceive (Michael

Polanyi, 1975).

If we consider human history as a tapestry unfolding though the loom of the present

moment then these existential issues might be the threads that form the warp. They are the

framework on which our future will continue to be built and that underlie the pattern which will

emerge. However they are not the yarn of the weft the hands of an artist uses to weave the story

which the tapestry reveals. It is of course easier to look back at the pattern that has emerged

historically than to imagine forward. However, possibly more than ever, we are at a time when

our collective impact on the social and ecological carrying capacity of our world requires that

we must re-member the past, ground ourselves in the present, and step humbly into profoundly

different ways of being in our future.

The transformational learning opportunities catalyzed by bringing people and horses

together as partners provides a powerful context in which to explore self-awareness, contact,

presence, power, and resilience; and to practice significantly new patterns of relationship within

what some writers refer to as a “more than human” world (Abram, 1997). The point, of course,


is not to somehow become more like anything other than human. Not more like a horse, or any

other favorite animal totem or past expression of human evolution. We are not seeking solace in

pre-personal states of fusion. Rather we are called to live forward into our humanness. The

changes of mind, heart, and action that this fuller expression of our humanness points towards

are not just simply anchored in the possibility of our survival as a species. What is often

overlooked in work on sustainability is that more sustainable patterns of living; patterns which

are increasingly socially and ecologically just, and that honor and support future generations,

cannot be built on a foundation of yet another human version of grasping after immortality.

Rather, the path of the centaur calls on us to live fully in this moment; practicing towards a life

of right action that is informed and supported by that which is both behind and ahead. It is a

fierce yet serene place to stand. To find our way requires paying attention to the context of the

more than human world.

Lost

Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here, And you must treat it as a powerful stranger, Must ask permission to know it and be known.

The forest breathes. Listen. It answers, I have made this place around you,

If you leave it you may come back again, saying Here No two trees are the same to Raven.

No two branches are the same to Wren. If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,

You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows Where you are. You must let it find you.

David Wagoner(1999)


The phrase ‘more than human’ serves as a reminder that our human fingerprints are all

over what we often refer to as ‘natural.’ In this way, even such constructs as horse or wilderness,

which provide essential and often forgotten perspectives for human growth and healing, are not

truly other than human in that we have defined, set aside, protected, and shaped these elements

of nature. We have even drastically altered the climatic conditions that determine what lives and

what dies. This pervasive human influence is even more relevant for highly domesticated

environments and species such as horses. While there are emergent properties that come from

active partnership in this more than human world, it is important to recognize the reflection of

our own agendas and neurosis in the design.

With horses, it has been said that you only need to add about an ounce of human sense to

have a horse that is an excellent partner, but that it takes at least a pound of horse sense to get a

human to become enough less like a predator to partner with a horse as a true horseman/woman.

In part, this reflects the amazing ability of Equus over the centuries to accommodate and thrive

in the world of humans. The willingness to partner with humans has served horses and humans

well in the course of our co-evolution. It is now our turn to be more curious, more open to the

possible lessons which are available through an intentional approach to relationship with them.

Intentional partnership which positions horses as teacher and healer is one avenue for

facilitating the evolution of human consciousness and thereby our responsible participation in the

creation of a more sustainable future. A fuller understanding and immersion in the expanded

context of this more than human world can be an essential component on our journey to become

more fully human.


A Journey with a Purpose

“What if we discover that our present way of life is irreconcilable with our vocation to become

fully human?”

Paulo Freire (1970)

“Every transformation of (the human species)… has rested on a new metaphysical and

ideological base;

Or rather, upon deeper stirrings and intuitions whose rationalized expression takes the form of a

new picture of the cosmos and the nature of humanity.”

Lewis Mumford (1957)

‘Quo vadis?’

Saint Peter (John 13:36)

The Calling

Vocation, from a spiritual and philosophical perspective, describes a calling or purpose

that is given to us. Traditionally it is not seen so much as something we choose, but rather a

purpose that we are meant for. The very notion of such a calling implicitly acknowledges a

power, presence, or order to life beyond the skin-encapsulated rational human experience.

There is a sense of purpose that is neither explained by, nor necessarily even consistent with

rational and empirical ways of understanding the world. You may feel called to your role in your

community, your work with people, or teaching the lessons available through your connection

with horses. Taken from the Christian story of St. Peter’s meeting with Jesus on the road to his

crucifixion, Quo vadis? Latin for Where are you going? is not a casual question.

It was in this sense that Freire spoke of our vocation to become fully human and it is this

evolution of our humanity that becomes a purpose we are slowly and collectively trying to learn

our way into. The material we explored in the last chapter informs the ground for what has felt

like my calling. Both personally and collectively we find ourselves at that edge of where human


nature seems barely able to imagine or respond to the challenges and complexities before us, and

yet time and again we have found the teachers, perspectives, and resources to move forward into

patterns of living and a way of being that before we could only vaguely point towards. While I

fundamentally believe in this perspective of a positive and sane evolution of human

consciousness, I have pointed out that I also recognize the painful and devastating neurotic layers

of complexity, domination, exploitation, and the myopic ego-centric, ethno-centric, and human-

centric attitudes and behaviors that continue to threaten our humanity and wreak havoc on the

planet. It is, at least in part, this tension between the sense of the possible and the well

habituated shortcomings of humanity that called me to connect with representatives of a broader

world view. This call of the possible was my inspiration for undertaking a journey of inquiry.

It is my aspiration that partnering with horses as catalysts for fresh insight and perspectives will

lead to articulation of, and active encouragement of, learning into ways of being which directly

address more sustainable patterns of relationship on a personal, social, and ecological level.

It was from this calling towards previously unlived versions of our humanness and the

immensity of the challenges facing us and the planet that my desire to understand what we might

learn if we are willing to listen in a profound way to horse as teacher was inspired. Listen to not

only the reminders of fundamental truisms about healthy and just patterns of living, but also how

we can engage ourselves and others in learning about living more fully into our humanness.

This desire to better understand and support personal and collective transformational processes

set me on the path to be clearer about all I believe we can learn through intentional partnership

with horses. I was also interested in how insights from the field of experiential education can

facilitate that learning.


This then became the focus of my research. I wanted to explore this question: What does

intentional partnership with horses have to teach us about being more fully human? It is a

question that has mattered to me for a long time, and is sufficiently ambiguous in its layers of

meaning to keep me feeling energized and engaged. It created an opening to curiosity in which I

could imagine being willing to be surprised by the insights and possibilities that would arise

along the way. It is also a question that cannot be addressed through measuring particular pre-

determined outcomes. Rather, it requires a subjective inquiry that relates to both individual and

collective interior perspectives. The appropriate injunction for approaching the question requires

an open curiosity and ways of knowing that incorporate mindful awareness as the foundation for

research. It seemed natural for the pursuit of this question to come in the form of a retreat from

society. It began to take shape as a journey with a purpose, an expedition of exploration.

The container for the journey became the compelling yet daunting task of spending three

months with a group of students and horses as the first group to horse-pack the not-yet-

completed Arizona Trail; over 800 miles North to South, across the state of Arizona. This major

expedition would then provide an intensive crucible to mix day in and day out connection and

interdependence with equine partners. A poster announcing the expedition captured our

intention well.


Walk Out to Walk About to Walk On

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to confront only the essential facts

of life, and to see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die,

discover that I had not lived.”

Henry David Thoreau, Walden(1854)

Walk Out “I went to the woods. . .”

In August 2009, eight students, two instructors and fourteen horses will be walking out of

what is known. We will be walking away from the personal and societal structures that have

helped shape who we are, our beliefs and our habits.

Walk About “to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and to see if I could not learn what

it had to teach…”

For three and a half months we will explore awareness, relationship, intention and action while

traversing the Arizona Trail. This 800 mile contemplative expedition from the Colorado

Plateau of Southern Utah – through the heart of the Grand Canyon – around the San

Francisco Peaks – across the Mogollon Rim – through the Superstition Mountains and

ending in the Sky Island Mountains along the Mexican Border will carry us into a deeper

understanding of ourselves and what it means to be more fully human.

This journey will challenge our habitual patterns to help us better understand and make

informed choices regarding our impact on the natural world. We will explore the care and

attending necessary to support our unshod horses across the rockiest state in the country,

we will try to feed ourselves and our horses from food that is local, and we will be mindful of

the technology, fossil fuels, and logistical support we depend on along the way.

Walk On “and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”

Having undertaken this major expedition while exploring our understanding of relationships

to ourselves, each other and the natural world, we hope to return to society with fresh clarity

and a deeper appreciation and ability to lead meaningful lives. Lives that improve the lives of

others, serve the environment, and celebrate hope for the future.


This expedition was an exploration of ways in which intentional partnership between

horses and humans could be used as a catalyst for fostering emergent levels of human potential.

Seeking a structure to address the question was shaped by a wide range of perspectives on

methods of inquiry and ways of knowing (Bentz & Shapiro, 1998; Cooperrider & Whitney,

2005; Creswell, 2003; Mason, 2002; Moustakis, 1990; Reason & Bradbury, 2006; Varela &

Shear, 1999; Wilber, 1997). The Integral Model of Consciousness described by Ken Wilber

1997) that we explored in the first chapter is one of the most personally relevant of these

philosophies. His model provides a meta-perspective on the essential nature of, and relationship

between internal and external, and subjective as well as objective modes of inquiry. While my

work and the structure of the Centaur’s Journey as contemplative form of inquiry clearly fall

towards the edge of traditional qualitative research, it is closely aligned with what Valerie Bentz

and Jeremy Shapiro from the Fielding Institute have described as Mindful Inquiry (1998). It also

fits within the broad range of participatory practices of Action Research (Bradbury & Reason,

2003). Neither of these approaches is, however, so much methodology as a framework that

provided a fundamental orientation towards systematic processes of inquiry. In adopting these

frameworks, I approached my query less as a social scientist interested in a new variation on

participatory research, but more as an experiential educator and change agent interested in fresh

and potent approaches to activating intentional positive growth within and among people. I

wanted to be curious in a structured and rigorous way that would allow my process and outcomes

to be transparent; clear enough that others could more easily decide if the final product is

relevant in a way that inspires fresh insights, perspectives, and ultimately ways of being in the

world on a personal and societal level.


Mindfulness Inquiry

Mindfulness Inquiry comes out of a long and rich tradition of contemplative practices and

provides a framework and holistic approach for inquiring into complex, multilayered

interactions. Bentz and Shapiro (1998) recognize these four distinct awareness-based lineages or

knowledge traditions. The first, Phenomenology, involves study of and reflections on structures

of consciousness. In integral terms it seeks to provide an objective reflection on subjective ways

of knowing. Second, Hermeneutics, which is concerned with the interpretation of language,

seeks to understand the layers and implication of meaning behind the words we choose and the

stories we tell. Hermeneutics then provides the entry point into the interiority of a

phenomenological approach to knowing. The third tradition is Critical Social Theory, a critique

of, and dissatisfaction with status quo or habitual cultural assumptions and patterns, with a

pointed view towards changing them. The fourth tradition, Mindfulness, frames all of these with

the contemporary American-Buddhism practice of mindfulness. While it is not necessary to

remember them all, Bentz and Shapiro provide thirteen values that I have used as reminders or

checks on my process and theoretical assumptions.

Awareness of self and reality and their interaction is a positive value in itself and should

be present in research processes.

Tolerating and integrating multiple perspectives is a value.

It is important to bracket our assumptions and look at the often unaware, deep layers of

consciousness and unconsciousness that underlie them.

Human existence, as well as research, is an ongoing process of interpreting both one’s

self and others, including other cultures and subcultures.

All research involves both: accepting bias, the bias of one’s own situation and context,

and trying to transcend it.


We are always immersed in and shaped by historical, social, economic, political, and

cultural structures and constraints. Those structures and constraints usually have

domination and oppression, and therefore suffering, built into them.

Knowing involves caring for the world and the human life that one studies.

The elimination or diminution of suffering is an important goal of or value accompanying

inquiry and often involves critical judgment about how much suffering is required by

existing arrangements.

Inquiry often involves the critique of existing values, social and personal illusions, and

harmful practices and institutions.

Inquiry should contribute to the development of awareness and self-reflection in the

inquirer and may contribute to the development of spirituality.

Inquiry usually requires giving up ego or transcending self, even though it is grounded in

self and requires intensified self-awareness.

Inquiry may contribute to social action and be part of social action.

The development of awareness is not a purely intellectual or cognitive process but part of

a person’s total way of living their life.

(Bentz & Shapiro, 1998)

It is both an inspiring and a demanding set of guidelines. It has provided guidance to me

and important reminders when I am seeking data or research to support a particular position or

methodology. Each time I bumped into this list in my journal it provided both a touchstone and

an affirmation of the value of the journey I was on.

Action Research

Action Research is loosely defined as: “A participatory, democratic process concerned

with developing practical knowing in the pursuit of worthwhile human purposes, grounded in a

participatory worldview which we believe is emerging at this historical moment.” It seeks to

bring together and accomplish: “action and reflection with theory and practice in participation

with others in the pursuit of practical solutions to issues of pressing concern to people; and the

flourishing of individual persons and their communities”(Reason & Bradbury, 2006). There is


also an overt agenda that is specifically intended to pursue a wider purpose to: “increase the

well-being, economic, political, psychological, spiritual-- of human persons and communities,

and to create a more equitable and sustainable relationship with the wider ecology of the planet

of which we are an intrinsic part” (Reason & Bradbury, 2006). This somewhat ethnographic

approach to research reframes subjects of research as participants. It engenders trust in the

construction of meaning and knowledge by the participants versus more hierarchical models that

foster a dependence on a top down dissemination of knowledge. Under the rubric of Action

Research there has been a great deal of work on social justice, community, educational, and

organizational learning. At its most fundamental level, Action Research supports an active

process of reflection to inform “learning into” increasingly effective, healthy or sane ways of

being. In this way, it is a model that fit perfectly with the process of growth and learning that the

Centaur’s Journey provided. The ideal of ongoing co-creation of the expedition by all members

of the team and our collective living-learning environment was dependent on our ability to

reflect on, evaluate, and re-imagine the journey. This practice became a central and defining

dimension of both our time together, and this research.

It is however, as we all know, not so easy to see one’s own blind spots and question our

own assumptions. They are like the air we breathe. They permeate us in a way that is primarily

on an other-than-conscious level. They are the third and fourth quadrant of the Johari

representation of individual awareness that make up a significant portion of who we are (Luft,

1969). One of the greatest challenges facing us as individuals and as members of simple and

complex systems is, as the Systems theorist Gregory Bateson argues, for us to learn to literally

think in new ways. However, in order to allow for and facilitate new ways of learning and being

we have to be bumped out of our comfortable habits. We must loosen our grasp on tidy rational


models which confine us to pre-selection of information and experiences that reinforce what it is

that we think we already know.

The blending of Mindful Inquiry and Participatory Action Research provide this more

emergent and constructivist process that Bateson describes. There is a level of challenge to the

question that seeks to go beyond phenomenological description to a much more personal and

collective interior perspective; one that takes the time to work down through the habits of

existing patterns of thoughts to a fresher level of awareness. Historically when a sentry stood

watch outside a town or encampment his challenge to those who approached would be a question

that essentially asked, “Who are you?” It is this process of challenge and revealing ourselves

through the commitment to a practice of inquiry that this project pursues. Not only did our

perception of horses provide this sentry’s challenge of identity but we asked ourselves and each

other over and over again, “Who are we? What is constant and what are we willing or able to

change?” The success of the expedition was not defined by our finally reaching the border of

Mexico, the number of miles traveled, or even that we were all there together at the end. The

success was in the questions we struggled with and our imperfect pursuit of answers.

The Journey

I approached the Arizona Trail expedition as a unique opportunity to wander deeply into

the nature of relationships, choice, and task. Combining my 30 years of experience in facilitating

experiential and wilderness based learning communities, my graduate work in contemplative

models of mindfulness inquiry, and my professional participation in the development of the

fields of Equine-Assisted Learning and Mental Health, I was eager to apply my work in a unique

and intense environment where I could, as Thoreau suggests, “live deliberately, to confront only

the essential facts of life…”(1854). I had seen clearly time and time again the lessons learned in


the presence of horses through a wide range of much shorter programs. I wanted to better

understand how these lessons fared in the intense and pragmatic challenge of daily living.

The goals of the expedition required the formation of an intentional learning community

where participants could be full members in the co-creation of the experience. The journey was

designed to support a semester of undergraduate studies in the Psychology of Sustainability and

Relational Leadership for students from Prescott College. This four month intensive provided a

unique back-country, traveling, retreat style environment where partnership with the horses, the

group, the environments we traversed, and the task itself became the focal point of a daily

mindful living practice. Instructional and support staff as well as participants were chosen who

had specific interest and skills to support the technical and logistical challenges of the

expedition. They also demonstrated interest in and commitment to self-awareness and fostering

their human potential.

Selecting participants. I was fortunate to have the opportunity to work with Pam

McPhee as a co-leader for this expedition. Pam currently serves as clinical faculty at the

University of New Hampshire, is the founding Director of the Browne Center for Innovative

Learning, and Windhorse Leadership Services. As a master practitioner and teacher of

experiential education, a seasoned wilderness traveler, and an accomplished horseperson, Pam

provided vital skills and perspectives for the planning and implementation of this journey. We

had worked together for over four years in programs anchored in partnering with horses to serve

a wide range of populations: undergraduate and graduate students, Social Workers, people living

with cancer, corporate and executive leadership groups, and organizational development trainers.

We selected eight participants from a pool of 20 applicants. The selection criteria was based on

the goal of molding a team with a balance of experiences and understanding of expeditionary


living, competence with horses, community living, self-directed learning, and a demonstrated

commitment to personal growth. Application and briefing materials informed participants of the

research portion of the expedition as well as the breadth and depth of our vision for the

expedition. We framed the vision and goals of the journey we were inviting them to help co-

create through materials about the expedition, participant interviews, and our initial group

meetings.

Establishing a mindful approach. Active facilitation of community practices, tone,

and pacing of the expedition encouraged an intentionally contemplative dimension to the

journey. The community practices included simple daily rituals of silence and gratitude at

breakfast and dinner, yoga, guided meditation, and group poetry writing exercises facilitated by

members of the group. Expedition members engaged in relevant personal practices such as

journaling, meditation, yoga, music, etc. that fostered self-awareness and personal growth. This

tone was set starting with the earliest conversations about the expedition, through the application

and participant selection process, our initial group meetings and ultimately in the daily return to

this commitment.

Reflections. The expedition itself lasted three months. This extended time-frame

provided the container for ninety days/ ninety lessons. The ninety days /ninety lessons format

parallels a structure that is used in the addictions recovery process as a catalyst for insight or

change. By committing to attending ninety meetings on ninety consecutive days, an individual

makes a commitment to a regular practice that theoretically helps them move past habitual

rationalizing and defensive patterns into a much deeper understanding of their personal patterns,

and a commitment to their own sobriety.


The three month immersion in an extended practice allowed time to move past the “low

hanging fruit” of initial impressions, romantic notions, and some of our expectations and easy

surface projections of our assumptions onto the horses. Each morning after feeding and prior to

packing up or after settling into a new camp at the end of a day, expedition members were to

spend ‘undemanding time’ with their equine partner and reflect on the question: You are the

teacher; I am the student, what is the lesson? This question comes from the work of my friend

and mentor, Barbara Rector. As a recognized Elder for the field of Equine-Assisted Mental

Health, Barbara has played an important role in the development of EAL and EAMH

undergraduate and graduate studies at Prescott College. Along with the query, each of us had an

iPod and Belkin microphone to digitally record our auditory responses.

In the context of this expedition, the reflections practice was a focused way to initially

engage the rational mind in a reflective process. The intention was to help each person move

deeper into his/her own unique levels of awareness of the variety of lessons presented through

the relationship formed with the equine partner. The practice became what John Mason has

referred to as a Discipline of Noticing that allowed us to “research from the inside.” It set up a

practice or a ‘systematic and methodologically sound process’ of slowing down and noticing

what lay below the ever present and seductively distracting surface of things (Mason, 2002). As

an educator, the practice was an attempt to support awareness and expression of internal

experiences and aspects of relationship that are essentially ineffable. As a researcher I ended up,

paradoxically, depending on the use of words to talk about inner experience that is difficult to

describe in language. As with any symbolic representation, “the map is not the

territory”(Korsybski, 1933). It was my belief that the long duration of the expedition and a


commitment to the intention of the practice would help us settle into deeper understanding in a

way that cut through the veil of daily busyness and reveal glimpses of our internal journeys.

A Meta review of reflections. Rather than reverting to any one of the multitude of

mixed methods approaches of narrative data analysis, I decided to stay with a simple

mindfulness practice as a meta-review process. I established a mindfulness practice that would

involve three separate readers reading the transcripts of these reflections and making written

comments regarding insights and reflection as witness to the students’ daily responses. Readers

were requested to listen to and/or read the transcripts and to notice what occurred to them. They

primarily noticed patterns, phrases, and observations from the participants’ reflections, but I was

also specifically interested in thoughts and ideas triggered through the process of reviewing the

collected material. Using the injunction of this internal personal process of intuitive reflection

versus an exercise of coding phrases or word choices and subjecting the patterns to quantitative

analysis helps maintain a sense of congruence of process and fundamental trust in the emergent

properties of insight awareness (Bentz & Shapiro, 1998).

In alignment with the tenets of Mindfulness Inquiry, Participatory Action Research, and

my core beliefs as a facilitator, active and regular shared reflection of the lessons along the way

were folded back into the fabric of the journey from which they emerged. The structure of our

days, the roles we took on, our travel schedule, and the role of the horses all continually evolved

as the journey unfolded. Taking time for individual, small group and full group reflection,

dialogue, and re-evaluation and re-connection to shared vision and planning allowed us to apply

and play with our insights. Our ability to live into those things that mattered enough to us to

actually affect the choices we made and the quality of our relationships was fostered by these

practices. The goal was that the structured reflections in the presence of our equine expedition


partners would provide fresh insight and language to help all of us better understand both the

challenges and possibilities of our becoming more fully human.

We were setting out on a journey; a journey that would take each of us deeper into the

exploration of ourselves, our horses, and all of life as teachers and into lessons we could imagine

but as we began not yet comprehend.

Tracks

“As I look back now, as I try to sort out fact from fiction, try to remember how I felt at that

particular time or during that particular incident, try to relive those memories that have been

buried so deep and distorted so ruthlessly. There is one clear fact that emerges. The trip was

easy. It was no more dangerous than crossing the street, or driving to the beach, or eating

peanuts. The two important things that I learnt were that you are as powerful as you allow

yourself to be and that the most difficult part of any endeavor is taking the first step, making the

first decision. And I knew then that I would forget them time and time again, and would have to

go back and repeat those words that had become meaningless and try to remember. I knew even

then that instead of remembering the truth of it, I would lapse into a useless nostalgia. Camel

trips, as I had suspected all along and I was about to have confirmed, do not begin or end, they

merely change form. ”

Robyn Davidson (1995)


You are the Teacher

Excerpt from my journal

. . Even as the blow knocked the breath out of me, I knew that this one was

going to hurt for a while. .. Later that day, actually early the next morning

the doctor at the ER confirmed that both the difficulty I was having taking a

full breath and the gripping pain were connected to the seven ribs that broke as I

hit the ground. It was so ironic that I had just facilitated a discussion at lunch

reminding folks how simply sitting on a horse did not equate with riding....

and that even on a quiet and mellow day partnering with horses requires a

consistent centered focus that is ready to respond to the totally unexpected. It is

frustrating that I do not even know what happened first.

It was a cold and windy day, the trail was mellow, following along a

ranch 2-track with views of Flagstaff’s Humphrey's Peak looming to the south.

Periodic groups of cattle stirred up the horses some, and the occasional Elk

ducking into the woods out in front of us had everyone’s attention. I had just

stepped up on Crow Feather for the afternoon. We were standing as a group

waiting for the last rider to mount. I thought the herd spooked, but others report

that Crow simply bolted. I settled into my seat for the ride and remembered

Crow's willingness to cut hard left and dump his right shoulder. Having taken

that exit ramp before, and to close that particular option I shortened my reins to

ask him around to the right. As a seemingly impish compromise he stopped

short and still dropped his right shoulder. Instead of executing a smooth

Aikido roll to absorb the energy I simply went splat on the right side of my

back.


But other than a few cracked ribs and a large dose of humble pie what was

the impact of my fall? We have taken a few layover days to catch up on

academics, logistics, to let my body start what will no doubt be a slow healing

process… and to adjust our travel plans. While I do not necessarily believe there

was a message in my unplanned dismount, it did get my attention in a big

way. While we have been traveling through amazing country, with spectacular

weather, and a great group of folks to work and play with, there has been very

little space to breathe... a sensation that I am currently acutely familiar with.

In order to reduce the chance of complications I have been taking a lot of deep

breaths.

It often takes something dramatic to get me to slow down... to stop.

Instead I am constantly adding one more thing, one more great idea, one more

project to the plate... and those ideas and projects tend to have just enough life of

their own to run away with me. However today, this week, for this expedition I

am trying to do something different. . . to re-focus on why we are here, what

will make this an amazing learning opportunity for all of our expedition

members... to slow down and take the time it takes to just do a few pieces well.

Not that the other pieces are not important, or even pressing... but for a while I

will simply be walking slow, with my right side as a steady reminder for each

wild and wonderful day that I am given to be alive to have the space to breathe

and to fully reflect all that matters most to me....as we head south from

Flagstaff I hope to wander deeper and deeper into, to live more and more into the

qualities of a traveling learning community that supports health, healing, and

a good dose of happiness for all. P. Smith Oct 1, 2009 Flagstaff, AZ

After the fall, except for that one night in the hospital, I managed to stay on expedition.

I did however end up walking for five weeks before my body was ready to step back up on a

horse. While I had set off on a quest of learning in the midst of some idealized partnership, I

needed to step away from my preconceived notion of this centaur’s journey and literally find

balance over my own two feet. I struggled with both my real and imagined ability to contribute

to the group in the face of my injuries. I got to confront head-on my expectations about the


expedition and three intensive months partnering with one horse that so elaborately supported

both my conscious and other-than-conscious processes.

While I could not (nor can one ever) take responsibility for anyone else’s experience or

learning, I had a responsibility to the group of people and equines that I had gathered together for

this expedition. I had a responsibility to do more than just show up every day after my fall from

Crow. Not only were bones broken, but the existing patterns of the expedition were shattered. I

had a responsibility to help re-shape the pieces. Not to simply put what had been broken back

together, but rather more like what Terry Tempest Williams describes as “the artist’s process of

finding beauty in a broken world by creating a mosaic of tesserae”-- fragments of glass, stone, or

tile (Williams, 2008).

Fortunately, rarely does our work in EAL involve this level of risk or injury. At the same

time the lessons many of us are working on both as practitioners and students do not come

through theoretical or over-controlled experiences. If the only pre-requisite for change was a

cognitive awareness of what we wanted to do differently or thought might be a good idea, much

of life might be much simpler. For better and for worse however, our patterns tend to be more

fixed in our psyche. We require more than just the exposure to new ideas, or even new

experience. There must be a convergence of sufficient awareness and experience, along with the

internal and systemic support for new possibilities in order for change to occur. In the language

of Systems Theory, “awareness is a necessary but not sufficient condition for second order or

meaningful and lasting change to occur” (Bowen & Kerr, 1988). This is in large part why

concepts and models of experiential education and facilitation are such a central part of this

manuscript. It is clear that regardless of the inherent lessons available through partnering with

horses, the learning and application of these lessons are not ‘casual acts.’ As we will explore in


the chapter “Deepening the Experience”, there is a great deal of learning and transference that

requires active facilitation in order to become readily available to participants. However, since

the example of my fall hopefully raises some of those questions, I believe it is helpful to touch

on the topic briefly before we take a more expansive look at what we can learn from, and with,

horses as partners and teachers.

While there is much we can do to minimize risks it is important to be clear and honest;

working and playing with horses can be dangerous. As with other experiential or adventure

based activities, if we are not aware of and willing to accept the risk of someone or an animal

being hurt, or even dying, then we should question the rightness of our individual work in the

field. This is not intended to be a particularly dramatic statement; it is a simple and important

issue that we have to work with directly as facilitators. Each day and in each session we can ask

questions and structure situations to minimize the chance of something unfortunate happening.

However, it is an illusion, and somewhat counterproductive to believe or assume that working

with horses can be infallibly safe.

It is also important to work within an appropriate level of risk for the institutional setting

we are working in, for our participants, our goals, and for ourselves. For example, in one

common EAL activity, in which a group of people take part in a meet and greet activity in a

paddock or pasture space, it might be perfectly appropriate to have horses mingling with them at

liberty. However, that is going to depend on the horses’ comfort in that space, their

temperaments and energy; the physical ability of the participants as well as their self-awareness

and self-management skills, the weather, the availability of appropriate level of supervision or

capacity to intervene, and the guidelines of the facility or program we are working with.


This fundamental dependence on multiple variables comes back to this basic two pronged

concept:

1.) Asking contextually specific questions of the work; and

2.) Being willing to hear/accept/provide different answers.

The most appropriate answer to many generic position-based questions like, “Is that

activity appropriate?” is, “it depends.” Changes in any one of the parameters of horse, client,

staffing, goals, environment, time, all changes the answer in a way that potentially requires us to

shift the design of the session in a different direction. It is like the response to the question,

“What type of horses are appropriate (or inappropriate) for working with in an EAL session?”

For me the answer is, “It depends”. It depends on whether I will be simply observing, or if there

is interaction with the horse, the nature of that interaction, the client, the goals, the staffing.

This question is not just about the strong or athletic horse, but the sick or lame horse as well.

The end result of this open inquiry is that not just anything goes, or that any combination of

horse and rider is necessarily fine. The answers matter, but only when they are connected to the

right questions.

Our ability to work from an awareness of our interest in issues of risk, energy, and

responsibility versus set positions helps loosen our own patterns of teaching on auto-pilot. By

being intentional about these and other choices we avoid having a model or an activity that we

execute regardless of the myriad factors. Otherwise we end up doing things to our participants

and horses as opposed to with them or for them. Just because it worked in a different situation,

or in our experience in the past does not necessarily transfer to being either effective or

appropriate for the next moment that comes up.


There is a powerful way in which working in the presence and nature of horses provides a

profound access point into important, challenging, and rewarding lessons for humans. Because

they can be such good mirrors for seeing our own behavior, working in partnership with horses

can help us directly recognize and confront issues or patterns that our established habits may

make us likely to disregard or avoid. One of the main patterns that emerged out of reflections

from the trip was that each of us paid attention to the issues that were ‘up’ for us as individuals.

So, whether it was self–confidence, relationships, self -care, or responsibility to others, these

issues became the focus of each individual’s reflection with the horses. Whether as a mirror or

as a projection, each of us found dynamics, characteristics, and issues with our equine partners

that provided grist for each of our own personal journeys. As with my fall, it can take something

dramatic, novel, or unexpected to get some of us to pay attention, though it may take more for

some of us than for others.

Horse as Teacher

Working with horses has much to teach us about nurturing healthy patterns of being

human in a more than human world. The seeds of understanding these lessons are present in the

current trends towards more relational approached to horsemanship. Over the past three decades

there has been what Dr. Robert Miller (2005) characterizes as ‘a revolution in horsemanship’

which connects perennial wisdom from centuries of partnering with horses to contemporary

ideas of the emotional lives of animals and the corresponding ethics of partnership,

responsibility, and respect (Bekoff, 2007; Miller & Lamb, 2005). What started as a few trainers

adopting methods of horsemanship built on mutual understanding and equine patterns of

communication has resonated with people looking for a partnership that goes beyond simple

compliance, and people hungry for more humanistic approaches to working with horses in a way


that is congruent with their broader ethics and sensibilities. The philosophy and methods of this

relational style of horsemanship focus more on partnership and positive reciprocal relationship

than intimidation and control. The practice of working with horses has slowly changed over the

decades from breaking colts in violent displays of human aggression to the gentling of even

undomesticated horses (Miller, 2007). These contemporary methods seek approaches that

inspire individual brilliance in relationship rather than dutiful compliance (McPhee, 2008). As

the relational approach to working with horses evolved, the essential lessons that can transfer in

profound ways back into the human world became evident to many people who were exposed to

this way of being with horses. Slowly at first, but then with rapidly increasing influence, a

significant part of peoples’ work with horses has come to be more about human healing and

learning accessed through well facilitated observation, interaction, and partnership (Hallberg,

2009). A focus on positive relationship or partnership provides a distinct opportunity in the day

in and day out of working with and handling of horses. Through it we develop or enhance a

wide range of life skills as well as our underlying emotional awareness, resilience, and

effectiveness in the world.

In the world of human-human interaction, Daniel Goleman successfully framed our

facility with these key relational skills as Emotional Intelligence (Goleman, 2006a). His model

can be helpful in considering what it takes to navigate the world effectively. Goleman's model

outlines four main Emotional Intelligence or EQ constructs in this way:

1. Self-awareness – the ability to recognize ones own emotions and understand their impact

on both ourselves as well as others.


2. Self-management –the capacity to control ones own emotions and emotional impulses;

resilience, or ability to adapt to changes in your environment. This includes the capacity

to tolerate ambiguity or not-knowing.

3. Social awareness – the ability to recognize, understand, and respond to others’ emotions;

a capacity for systems thinking or awareness of social systems.

4. Relationship Management – The capacities to inspire, influence, and develop others

while managing interpersonal and social dynamics.

As with other models and theories that can inform our work, part of the applied value of

EQ is access to a simple framework to help us notice and be curious about a baseline of

emotional awareness and aptitude, as well as the human capacity for growth and development in

key areas. Not only is EQ identified as an indicator of a leader’s success but, unlike some other

aspects of our intelligence, they are areas or skill sets that can be actively developed and

improved (Goleman, 2011).

Similarly, to effectively partner with horses, an individual needs to be attuned to the

whole range of finely honed intra- and inter-personal skills outlined by Goleman: be aware of

their own emotional state; be able to self-manage those emotions in a genuine and effective way;

effectively ‘read’ and understand others; and skillfully manage their relationships with their

equine partners. Development in the domains of EQ is an opportunity we can provide our

participants through different EQ aspects of our work in connecting them with horses, and is a

personal responsibility in our own lives and in the ongoing personal work that goes into being an

effective facilitator.

Teacher or Tool?


The first Best Practices in Equine-Assisted Learning and Mental Health gathering that

Centaur Leadership Services sponsored was held at the Nina Pulliam Campus for Compassion at

the Arizona Humane Society in Phoenix, Arizona in 2004. We intentionally invited practitioners

who were approaching the work in very different ways to explore the shared ground that

informed each of our best practices. Over the years it has been a wonderful and supportive

venue to share ideas and concerns in our evolving field. It has been a safe haven of what Tracy

Weber fondly refers to as “a non-denominational gathering”. One of the central areas of focus

has to do with the role of the horse in the work. For several years prior to that first gathering

Barbara Rector and I had an ongoing dialogue about the language: that we ‘use’ the horse. Her

concern, quite appropriately was the objectification of these amazing teachers and partners as if

they were a tool. My pragmatist perspective was what I saw as the importance of fully owning

the human agenda and I liked the somewhat edgy responsibility that came along with the

implications of the term ‘use.’ Both of these points of view are, as they must be, human-centric

perspectives. Just as the language is not necessarily mutually exclusive, differing views of the

role of the horse are not either.

At that first gathering a fellow practitioner was facilitating a simple appendages exercise

as a demonstration of one approach to working with adolescents to address issues of relationship,

communication, leadership, and making connections. The classic structure of this activity, which

is often identified with the Equine-Assisted Growth and Learning Association (EAGALA)

approach to the work, typically has some variation of three people with arms linked functioning

as one body, with the person in the center taking on the leadership role of the mind and mouth

while the two side people have one hand and try to simply follow and support the leadership of

the head or center person. One of the participants who was in the center leadership position for a


triad was noticeably irritated during the activity and at the end voiced strong concern about the

way in which this activity confirmed her belief that these activities treated the animal as a tool,

that you ‘might as well have been working with a hat rack’ given that the task felt to her as

though it were being done to the horse. While the facilitator did not push too hard, I was struck

by the question: “Why would someone who was so concerned about the importance of, the

relationship with, and respect of the horse, treat a horse in a way so inconsistent with their

values?” Yet that is often what we do… especially if time or resources are limited in the

presence of task, we sacrifice relationship in the duty to task. And yes, with a heavier relational

frame you can manage the experience to increase the likelihood that folks either focus on or

potentially lose sight of the relational aspect of the activity. But that session demonstrated how

easy it is for even caring compassionate humans who have a deep love and respect for horses,

when confronted with a task, to become utilitarian and transactional in the quality of their

relationships. One of the litmus tests to assure that the horse is not reduced to being a prop is to

ask whether you could do the same activity without the horse and achieve similar outcomes.

And then, if the horse’s role is central to the activity, how do you structure the experience in such

a way that reflects not only your values regarding the horse as teacher and partner, but also

maximizes the accessibility of the available lessons?

More than any short activity, the Arizona Trail Expedition was a full immersion into

exploring the nature of our relationship with horses. Issues related to why we as humans get to

choose, the transactional or even utilitarian dimension of relationships, and the lessons related to

our responsibilities in the partnership.

Layers of Connection


There are, no doubt, aspects of your own relationship with horses, whether vicariously

through story and myth or through direct experience which have been particularly instructive.

Start by connecting your own experiences of learning with and from horses, and then apply that

to designing experiences for others. You know what the goals are for your particular participant

population. It can be helpful to have conceptual organizers to forge the connection between

specific desired outcomes and different types of activities. Patterns in programming can help

inform our choices and orient us and our participants’ learning along the way.

The lessons and themes gleaned from participants’ reflections along the Centaur’s

journey can be helpful in framing a basic structure that is relevant for general program design.

We will also be coming back to program design and facilitation specifically in the final chapter

on possibilities. What follows is by no means an exhaustive list of what we might be able to

learn from our partnership with horses. It does however represent both the major themes

encountered on the expedition as well as patterns and themes I have encountered over the past 15

years working and playing with people and horses together. The four phases outlined provide a

simple map onto which you will be able to organize your own thoughts or experiences and

provide a touchstone for some of the directions that the work can take.

For simplicity’s sake we can frame four related yet distinct phases of the activities or

programs. As with other organizing or labeling systems it can be restrictive to think of these as

neat and self-contained boxes that something must fit into. You may find it more helpful to

imagine them as open bins in which you can sort and store ideas.


All activities that we do directly with horses or design into the horse-based activities of

experiential learning sessions can be anchored in one of the four phases:

Meet and Greet

Connecting

Relationship and Task

Endings

This is a continuum of contact that exists in any task-related encounter with horses or

people. Each of these areas have their own beginning middle and end, and segues and transitions

that connect them. There is also a cumulative impact of the quality and nature of each level. As

with other developmental stages this represents a Holarchy of experience. Each holon is

contained within all that follows such that the initial phases create a foundation or core layer, the

quality of which is reflected in each successive layer. If the initial meeting lacks intention or

focus and is chaotic or distracted, the lack in consistency of contact and clarity of communication

will significantly affect partnering together for a task. Of course the layers are not a neat rigid

linear progression; the lessons and quality of each layer permeate the others. Not only is there

overlap between phases, but there are other threads of emphasis such as aspects of task or

relational qualities that weave throughout the sequence. There can, for example, be huge value

in using purpose as an opportunity to develop quality and depth of connection. When we zoom

in and out on each phase they can also be further divided in ways that help us organize our

thoughts and program design. For example, even though Relationship and Task provides a

useful distinction from other phases of activity, for some programs it will be important to further

distinguish ground-based and mounted activities, or between tasks that are pursued at liberty and

tasks that depend on physical aides such as lead ropes for connection and communication.


To begin to get a better sense of actual lessons associated with each of these phases of

engagement, in addition to the themes and lessons from the expedition, I have included basic

associations that I have noticed arising consistently throughout a decade of facilitating

intentional change working with people and horses. There is intentionally some extra room here

in the layout for you to add your own observations and connections to each of these phases.

Meet and Greet

This phase of a program or activity includes the initial orientation of attention. To be

effective it is typically less agenda driven and more a genuine check in with yourself and the

horse. It is also a phase that can easily start well away from or before you see a horse. For

many, showing up in the present moment in a centered way ready for mindful connection does

not just happen. Working with mindfulness or centering activities such as guided meditations,

breathing techniques, or emotional body scans can significantly affect an individual’s ability to

be more fully present energetically.

Here are some basic inquiry questions for the Meet and Greet phase. As you approach

the horses can you notice that first moment that the horses are aware of your presence? When do

you cross the boundary where you begin to affect their behavior or movement? If you are

entering a pasture, a paddock or a stall, what does it mean to pause and ask permission before

you enter? How would you know if you have permission or if you believe you need it?

Take the time it takes. Take a few conscious breaths to make sure that you are truly paying

attention to this moment, not lost in thought about what has already transpired, or what’s about to

happen next. Slowing down and inquiring into this process of awareness and the habits or

assumptions that go with it quickly provide information for us personally. Incorporating inquiry

into programming provides insight into ourselves as practitioners and shows us pertinent


information about our participants. When participants have been introduced to and taught skills

in basic inquiry and self-awareness process before they ever meet a horse, they begin to learn

how to catch themselves in the act of being their habitual selves and pause long enough to try

something different. With this engaged awareness the subtle energetic boundaries that can

habitually have been early lines of defense instead become sweet points of contact.

In most environments where people work and play with horses the horses are dependent

on humans for food, water, interaction, and even freedom of movement. While horses living in

environments of free access to feed, water, a herd and space to travel would still notice and

acknowledge a new presence, in most cases the arrival of a two-legged is regularly associated

with meeting basic needs, and therefore an even greater arousal of energy and interest. That

energy may however have less to do with you than the opportunity you might represent to the

horse.

However, depending on the nature of their own personalities, history, and relationship

with humans in general, horses will often become curious and seek out connection. If and when

they do approach your space, it can be quite clear what they have come to believe about

connecting with people. Their energy may be: indifferent, cautious, curious or playful,

demanding, or even more rarely, aggressive. And while horses can and do convey enthusiasm

and connection to people, they are very decidedly not dogs. While that may seem ridiculously

obvious; often people are looking for the enthusiastic recognition and affirmation of a puppy that

wants to be your new best friend. Horse, however, while they can be wonderfully playful, are

more likely to express their comfort by simply going back to grazing or whatever else may seem

more interesting. So when we first meet and greet horses we get to figure out how to be more

interesting than grass or even dirt. For the majority of horses that live in more human-centric


settings these characteristics are typically heavily influenced by the pattern connection between

people and their basic needs. Then depending on the nature of those patterns, the unique

characteristics of particular horses, and the current frustration of those interests, the greetings

will range from indifference to curious and respectful, to dismissive or demanding.

In the Meet and Greet phase it is important to show up with the intention to be aware of the

energy each of us brings to the encounter of human and horse, and with that an awareness about

our impulse to interpret or change that energy.

From the very beginning of the expedition, when we first gathered at Chauncey Ranch,

we took time to simply be present and observe the horses, ourselves, and the collective us that

emerged as we spent time together. This undemanding time of slowing down and being present

became an important touchstone in our relationships throughout the expedition.

Some of the key phrases or concepts often connect to this phase include:

o Self-awareness

o Setting intentions

o Observation-Curiosity

o Relevance

o Asking permission

o Beginner’s mind

o Boundaries

o What do you notice?

o Out of all the things you could notice, what does what you notice say about you?

What phrases or lessons have you noticed in your own experience in these earliest stages of Meet

and Greet with horses?


Connecting

Throughout any activities that are part of the Meet and Greet phase; whether through the simple

observation of a horse or herd from a distance, or the more intimate space of mindfulness

practices in the presence of horse, there is a quality of connection that is being developed. This

next phase of Connecting is directly related to activities or points in a progression where we start

to establish a more tangible or even physical contact and connection with horses. Here

connection through our touch or a halter and lead line provides a physical manifestation of the

relationship. The awareness we want to engender in this phase is about the assertion of roles that

inherently involves issues of: agenda, responsibility, power and control, leadership and

followership. New questions start to arise like: Who initiates first contact? Does it matter? If

so, how? What is the question being asked between human and horse? These are simple

questions that are easily bypassed out of habit and the assumption that we already know all we

need to know. But that--when cracked open even slightly--can be access points to explore more

relational partnership with horses, and potentially, profound issues on how we live our lives.

As with many areas of life, when we move from human be-ing to human do-ing if we are able to

step back and, as a detached observer watch ourselves we can learn so much more about who we

really are simply by noticing the choices we make. This information can help us move towards

new patterns we are trying to live more fully into. Establishing a physical link with a horse takes

us beyond the theoretical and easily romanticized aspect of our adoration of horses. It reveals

our level of skill or understanding and our actual values and priorities through the choices and

actions we take. We see ourselves move from what might be our desired or espoused values to

default behaviors that reflect well-worn defenses or habits.


With the physical contact and literal connections comes the opportunity to practice

patterns of awareness and openness that allow the horse to teach us to live differently. The same

strength of patterning that was manifested in relation to basic needs is equally established around

a horse’s associations to the activity or work that comes with connecting to people. The shift to

task focus, especially when there is an agenda or straight-line-thinking feel to the approach is

directly reflected by the horses. A horse that was curious and interested can quickly decide that

they are not interested in joining up with your agenda. There is also a quality of care that is

introduced into the relationship with physical contact. Can you engage them in connecting such

that it becomes more of a joining, something that even though initiated by you, that you are

doing with them instead of simply to them for yourself? Sometimes if a participant is tentative

and off balance with this initial contact, I ask them to imagine holding their heart in their hand

and offering that as their initial point of contact with the horse. In these primary interactions we

quickly begin to see the ways in which horses mirror the emotions or attitude of the human. The

same horse, on the same day, even with the same person will often noticeably shift when the

person simply takes a deep conscious breath and becomes more connected to the present moment

than to the agenda that they carried into the space.

The summer before the expedition I had the opportunity to spend five weeks studying

natural horsemanship at Pat and Linda Parelli’s ranch in Pagosa Springs, CO. For this intensive

retreat I took along Chauncey, an 8 year old dark bay Appendix-Thoroughbred, who I thought

would be my partner on the expedition. Chauncey and I had worked together for almost two

years and he had been with me on several week-long expeditions. He is a horse that can be quite

athletic and confident, but when he falls apart can be pretty dramatic. I enjoy working with him

in part because, even though he can be quite reactive, when I am confidant and calm he is able to


fairly quickly regain his confidence and focus. In Pagosa Springs we were both introduced to an

activity the faculty referred to as “Me and my shadow”. It is an activity where you actively trade

off the balance of leadership and followership with your horse and try to match and follow their

interests and cues as lightly as you want them to be able to match and follow yours. It is a

wonderful way to play with the level of expectations we might have and to just be curious about

the horse’s interest and priorities. While I had spent a lot of time hanging out with and observing

Chauncey in the past, the structure of this activity brought a new level of insight into my

willingness to trust and follow his lead. Trying to mirror, follow, and even anticipate his

movement from the tail end of a slack twelve foot lead line provided space to explore connection

while seeking to minimize the influence of my agenda.

Some of the key phrase or concepts often connected to the Connecting phase include:

o First contact

o Energetic connection

o Boundaries as the point of contact

o Intention

o Emotional Congruence

o Who gets to Choose?

o Quality of connection…

What phrases or lessons have you noticed in your own experience in this stage of

Connecting with horses?



I often think of this next phase as “putting purpose to the connection”. There is, of

course, purpose long before we introduce task. There is purpose or value in the being and in the

connecting. And it may be that not all tasks have a clear or intentional sense of purpose. But

Relationship and Task represents that next stage of experience where we transition from simple

contact and developing a connection to taking on the discussion of: Who is in charge? One

indicator of this relationship with horses can be represented by the question: Who is moving

whose feet and when? This is not a test of bravado or a bully’s challenge, but simply one

indicator of the daily dance that seeks clarity. Do I end up chasing a horse around to halter them

or do they walk up to me? Neither we nor our horses necessarily need to challenge this if the

nature of the relationship is clear and secure. But if the relation’s leadership is ambiguous or

inconsistent horses tend to continue to seek clarity through the simple question of: Who is in

charge of this space? Who moves whose feet? Who is the leader? These as all reasonable

questions, not only for horses, but for kids or people in general to ask as they try to make sense

of or find security in their world.

Now, as you can imagine, the attitude or attachment to that question varies greatly from

horse to horse and person to person. Some horses just seem happy that someone has come along

to provide some entertainment, attention, or focus, while others may be less willing to engage or

may be more persistent in contesting both other horses’ and humans’ qualifications for being in

charge.

Relational approaches to horsemanship seek to find patterns and approaches that

prioritize both relationship and task. To make sure that we prioritize and recognize the role of

the horse in the activity means to be very intentional about the “and” of relationship and task.


While there is always some quality of relationship

present in the shared attempt at any task, the quality

of these two components is often referred to as a

duality. There is the notion that in order to get

something done, you must sacrifice relationships; or

vice versa, that if you prioritize relationships you

will quite likely not get as much done. There is, of course, a reason that shortcuts exist, whether

in horsemanship or other parts of life. The attachment to the short term task is often that it

appears easier, quicker, or more efficient when we take short cuts around foundational holes in

the relationship. But some simple reflection can illuminate how the holes make the relationship

less stable or secure. One of the things that can foster a richer connection is the opportunity and

responsibility of caring for those that care for us. Educator and Care Theorist, Nel Noddings

talks about the role of reciprocity of care in life and educational relationships (Noddings, 2002).

This caring-about becomes the basis for our sense of social and environmental justice.

Noddings points out that as children we initially learn what it means to be cared-for. “Then,

gradually, we learn both to care for and, by extension, to care about others.” There is reciprocity

in tasks of caring implicit in EAL relationships that can be not only valuable but a really

important dimension of programming. When practiced with sensitivity the responsibility of

caring for horses provides an opportunity to step beyond the classic human-horse pattern of

narcissistic expectation and entitlement to deepen our relationships.

This integration of Relationship and Task was in many ways at the crux of the whole

expedition. We were seeking to better understand ourselves and our habitual patterns in the

intensely task oriented context of back-country travel, while at the same time seeking to practice


intentional qualities of relationship that we believed to be important. As in much of life it was

easy to lose track of or seemingly forget our best intentions. However, each day, each moment,

that forgetting was an opportunity for getting to literally re-member or put back together the

qualities of relationship in the midst of our shared task.

Some of the key phrase or concepts often connected to the Relationship and Task phase

include:

o Purpose

o Process

o Rapport

o Efficiency

o Leadership and Followership

o Compliance versus Brilliance

What phrases or lessons have you noticed in your own experience in this stage of Relationship

and Task with horses?

Ending

While every session or activity has a beginning, middle, and end, it can be helpful to

acknowledge and emphasize endings as an important aspect of relationships. They can benefit

from a more intentional focus than they are often given. Endings are an area that people often do

not get much practice at doing well. Consequently, when we come up against larger separations

or even death, there can not only naturally be a quite difficult and painful sense of loss, but our

thoughts, feelings and behavior can get distorted and predictably messy. Some people have such

difficulty with endings that they do not want to say good-bye; others might literally leave early


and are off to the next thing before they have really finished what they were doing, before the

ending is felt. Still others have to get angry or have a fight that creates a breach rather than say

good-bye. Whatever the pattern, it can show up both at the end of longer or more intense

relationships and in all the little separations that happen around and within a person.

Thankfully, alternative healthier patterns can be practiced in the myriad little endings and

goodbyes that happen through the course of most days.

I had a teacher once who had this daily practice with her partner, when one of them left

for the day they would pause, look at each other and clearly say from the heart, “good-bye, and if

I never see you again, thanks for being in my life.” Two essential elements are included in this

engaged parting; actually acknowledging that an ending or good-bye is happening, and the

capacity to appreciate or recognize the role of other in your life. For many populations and

programs there will be both emotional and behavioral responses to ending a program and saying

goodbye. In a simply human future-orientation, folks think about whatever they are returning to

or the part of life that is coming up next. It is common at these points of transition for us to be

thrown off balance by habitual responses to the future that distract from, avoid, or overdramatize

the phase of ending. It may become more difficult, but it is very important to maintain the

awareness and present-centeredness of the program in this phase.

Thanksgiving week we were riding across the beautiful open grasslands southwest of

Tucson. While we had reduced the number of horses travelling with us, all of the people who

had set out on the journey back in August were still together, and it was clear for the first time

that we would actually reach Mexico. Although we still had a ways to go our conversations

started to turn towards the ending that was on the horizon. We had finally settled into patterns of

relationship and travel that allowed it to feel simply like the next phase in a much bigger on-


going journey. When the time came we would all be ready to step away and re-engage other

parts of our lives, but being aware of the approaching end of the expedition provided space in our

minds, hearts and relationships to relax into those final weeks in a new way.

Some of the key phrase or concepts often connected to the Ending phase include:

o Acknowledgement

o Appreciation

o Celebration

o Grief

o Reflection

o Transference

What phrases or lessons have you noticed through your own experience with horses in

this stage of Endings?

I have found this four-stage structure to be particularly useful in providing a conceptual

framework for working with people and horses. Throughout the sequence of contact there are

significant principles and concepts that emerge and are reinforced as lessons. This framework

and the lessons that emerge through it are relevant to programs of any length. On the expedition

we were graced with an especially long program which served to illuminate these lessons clearly.

In the next section we will explore central lessons from the trail and the underlying principles of

relational horsemanship that support, reinforce, and refine those lessons.


What is the lesson?

“We see the world, not as it is, but as we are.”- (Nin)

“We see the horse, not as they are, but as we are… the lessons are all individualized, all shaped to our own personal journey. ” - AZT

First sight

We see what we can see, to some extent hopefully we see some of what we need to see, and maybe, occasionally we are surprised and discover a whole new way of seeing.

The Role of Projection

In many ways one of the biggest lessons from the trail was so embedded in the fiber of

the experience that the pattern was hard to see until stepping away provided the gift of

perspective. In ways it seems so obvious that it’s hardly worth mentioning, and yet ultimately it

is so much at the core of the power and impact of this work that it can serve as a frame for all the

other lessons horses have to offer us. The big picture was this: each of us on the expedition

focused on lessons that reflected issues, interests, and challenges in our individual lives.

Whether it was around individuation or relationship, responsibility or authority, trust or clarity,

each of us regularly re-created and played out issues with our horses that reflected as much or

more about who we were than it said about our horses. And, had you told me that before the

expedition, I would have said, well yes, of course, and then quickly asked, but what are the

lessons they have to teach us? What are the lessons that are really intrinsic to working with

horses? Throughout this chapter I have included a sampling of reflections from the trail that


relate to lessons learned along the way. These quotes are intended to connect you as a reader to

some of the nuances and variations on these themes that arose along the journey. Hopefully the

comments provided along with your reflection and unique perspectives will serve as catalyst for

lessons along your own path.

“Just notice whatever it is you notice…and, of all the things you could notice,

what does what you notice say about you?” -AZT

While this projection of focus and ascribed meaning is true of any modality, the rich and

dynamic nature of the relationship with horses highlighted our individual projections in a

profound way. To a large degree that notion of: wherever you go, there you are meant that even

as we bumped into more universal themes and lessons each was filtered through the lens of

individual history, beliefs, and awareness.

“When I think of the idea of relevance or just being relevant to Penny it

reminds me of that same situation with people and wanting to be interesting to

people. Actually, being tired in both respects of trying to make that happen as

opposed to just doing what I need to do. I think there's a difference between

showing up in a full way and trying to prove something, and that there's really

nothing to prove. ” -AZT

We also seem to project on other non-human sentient beings in a particular way. When

working with humans there is an ability to ask a question to clarify motivation or intent. When

working with inanimate parts of nature, no matter how dynamic, there is not an assumption of

volition or willful acts. On the other hand, partnering with and learning from horses is quite

unique. Unlike other natural settings, adventure activities, or even--because of horses’ genesis as

prey -- other domesticated animals, when working with horses the environment is dynamic in a

way that is actively responsive to our thoughts, moods, and behaviors. How we approach the

moment matters, not only to us, but to the co-creation of that moment with the horse. The gift of

the horse is their presence as a responsive, powerful, sensitive, sentient individual.


“…being open to learning something doesn't feel very natural or common,

especially with another animal. It seems like with horses there's this habitual,

hierarchal pattern that (says) somehow as humans we know more than them.

How can I be more and more soft, more and more relaxed, and really see what

there might be to learn?" -AZT

“In making a story that is really all about us…through our eyes there is a

projection on other that can become fixed and solid as we try to sort out our own

perspective… so other can get type cast… their unique identity lost to us.” -AZT

For one member of the expedition, this identification with personally relevant issues

meant developing her own assertiveness and being more present in the world as a calm leader.

She sought to settle into herself so she would communicate instead of react. For the first part of

the expedition she was with a horse whose reactions could be very strong but who did well when

she asserted a calm presence. South of Flagstaff, when we adjusted our herd size, she paired up

with and became a champion of a very different horse--one who had a reputation as super solid

but not very responsive. Each of these very different horses provided opportunities for setting

and respecting boundaries. Each horse called for the group member to effectively assert herself.

“Would I have been less joyful if he had been less confident? His moods and

confidence seem just as arbitrary as my moods and confidence.” -AZT

Another member really focused on these interrelated lessons: the importance of listening

to another, rather than reacting; the importance of trust, patience, confidence, humility, and

dignity.

“It seems to me that before Penny has any interest in connecting or even

recognizing my presence, she needs to get her needs to eat and to be a horse met

first. And I'm wondering how can I not have expectations, or to have an

understanding of a horse being a horse? This kind of natural instincts ... not

just to eat, but it seems like there's a flow of the natural world that they're still

connected with that moves them without thought. Almost like the flow of a

river. There's something beautiful and organic about that if I can open to that,

and let go of some of my previous expectations for connection.” -AZT


One person noticed how overcoming the sense of intimidation that he felt in the presence

of horses was so closely connected to the shifts that helped him build confidence as a leader.

Another noticed that she looked to the horse to show her what to do, but realized she was the one

that needed to step up and provide the vision and the leadership for their partnership.

Several people spoke to how hard it was for them to ask for help. For at least one person that

translated into struggling with the appropriateness of depending on horse or asking the horse to

carry her. On the flip side, another was appreciative of being not only literally carried, but so

unconditionally supported by her horse.

“Just watching the horses this morning and feeling myself and trying to

find the patience that isn't resignation. It's so different than a dog's anxious

energy to get up and go…This morning I was thinking about how patient

Hardy is and how he teaches patience, when he challenges me and puts me in a

situation where I could choose to react in a not-so-effective way over choosing to

be patient and calm and clear.” - AZT

Others reflected on coming up against their own romanticized expectations of forging

mythic connection with horses and such an extended immersion into the natural world. They

struggled with the conflict between their romantic expectations and the reality of living day in

and day out on the dusty trail. They noticed the way the daily routines challenged their capacity

to maintain curiosity as a partner or learner.

“I also don't think the lessons are anything close to obvious and just curiosity

alone isn't enough to...well maybe curiosity, but it would have to be that

relentless willingness to ask questions and to go for that next layer as opposed

to just, "Huh, I wonder" or "I'm curious about" in a lighter way.

And short of that, really developing skills. The challenge of skills is that that

they often only get to task and doing. So, really looking at: how do you

develop the skills to partner with a horse as opposed to the skills to just control a

horse? Partnering includes understanding and curiosity and patience and

acceptance.” -AZT


We reflected on similar patterns in other important relationships in our lives. Most of us

dealt with the vagaries of tentative self-worth and self-confidence. After one too many

unplanned dismounts, one rider commented:

“my buttons get pushed with the incompetence of my riding just like

with other parts of my life. ”-AZT

The horse-ness of horse

Another significant over-arching lesson that came up throughout our journey was the

importance of recognizing and allowing the horse to simply be a horse: To honor the horse-ness

of horse. Again this may seem obvious; after all what else could they be? And yet it is easy to

romanticize ‘other’ and ascribe qualities, characteristics and expectations that often need

grounding in the ordinary. Not ground out, rather grounded, given roots in a way that actually

deepens the appreciation. It is a relationship with who and what is actually in front of us versus

our idealizations and projections.

On our last day together we were spending time with our horse in the Centaur’s Labyrinth

at Chauncey Ranch. One student’s reflection for that moment of ending was;

“As we went through the labyrinth today and I was walking along with Black

Oak and asking myself my question about the journey and trying to be very

aware and open to what the world around me was doing and perhaps telling me

… he's just walking and he's interested in eating grass and listening to me

and what I'm asking him: If I'm asking him to walk or to not eat grass or to

turn around a corner--and it does strike me as a metaphor for the journey.

Whatever deeper meaning there is might just be something that I am applying

to this experience and not the experience itself. It is. And it is amazing and it

is valuable and it is teaching me. And it also just is. Black Oak is simply

being himself. Whatever I’m getting out of It; if it's helpful and if it's useful,

it helps me either be a better person or reach my goals, or I can apply this

learning in the future is helpful, but it doesn't necessarily mean that the

universe is revolving around me and I'm okay with that.” -AZT


In the ordinariness of the day-in and day-out we tried to lift the veil and allow the ordinary

to just be, and yet hold the intention to remain curious. The horse provided the presence to make

the practice especially poignant. The steady consistency of related lessons each day was a

reminder of profound simplicity, and the ordinariness of the profound. This does not at all

diminish my belief in the potential and power of horse’s role as partner and teacher, but it does

emphasize and highlight the importance and challenge of meaningful effective facilitation for

accessing that potential.

Profound simplicity

All too often it is easy and somewhat tempting to romanticize ‘other’ as teacher. Whether

we do that with another culture, a religious tradition, the past, a therapist or teacher, the

wilderness, we are conditioned to look outside of ourselves for answers. This external locus for

insight seems to simultaneously reflect both our insecurity and our romantic narcissism. As with

each of these potentially powerful teachers, from religion to wilderness, in their own unique way,

there is ultimately the horse-ness of horse…an is-ness that is wonderfully ordinary. And just as

it can be challenging or difficult to access the sacred in everyday life, in the waking, eating,

moving, sleep of any given day, does not mean that the sacred is not present.

Carl Jung had inscribed over his office door and ultimately on his tombstone, "VOCATUS

ATQUE NON VOCATUS DEUS ADERIT. "In English, the inscription reads: "Bidden or un-

bidden, God is present.” (Jung, n.d.)

“I learned not to put horses on a pedestal, to see them as partners with us

going along a parallel path; that working with them does not guarantee an awe-

inspiring experience. This realization was a relief to me. There was no

epiphany, and that was not a problem.” -AZT


“Learning is not going to be handed to you on a golden platter, and that’s

not a mistake. You have to take responsibility for your own learning. As

humans learning has so much to do with projection. We choose an object to

learn with and from. We could have been working with goats, pet rocks; the

object of projection really doesn’t matter. Seeing the projections for what they

are is what matters. We picked horses because they’re pretty.

Before AZT I leaned towards natural horsemanship, I saw horses as

greater than us, they were on a pedestal. After AZT I have more of a pedestrian

view of horses, that they have flaws and strengths, just like us. It’s the opposite

of what one would expect, I think. Now I see them as sovereign individuals, and

that we can both learn about our flaws together.” –AZT

“I realized that in looking for the resources within myself to work with

him that I went from not trusting myself to knowing that an easy,

straightforward answer would not always be available, and that I would have to,

and could, trust my own judgments.” -AZT

The wonderful and yet profound ordinariness of these lessons remind me of the poem

from Robert Fulghum’s book by the same title, All I really need to know I learned in

Kindergarten (Fulghum, 1989). Much of what we need to learn is not about anything new, big

or exotic. It is us simply negotiating and integrating age-old lessons in new and increasingly

subtle contexts. If we were able to fully integrate some of those simple truths we would be less

likely to need the Hallmark cards that provide affirmation or reminders. But since integration

often eludes us, those cards serve as necessary place holders or reminders to our human will.

“Exaggerate to teach, and then refine, refine, refine.” Pat Parelli (2009)

On a grander scale horses manage to be dramatic or big enough to get our attention in

unique ways. This attention can be like a child’s eye drawn to a bright and shiny new toy, but

the attention soon wanes. As time and miles passed, members of the group recognized that

navigating the intensity of emotions and relationships spurred by living and travelling together in

the field for almost 100 days took us well beyond the bright and shiny. It challenged every


dimension of each expedition participant’s emotional intelligence. Our journey with horses

stretched our self-awareness and personal emotional congruence, our self-regulation, and our

capacity to empathically understand and support each other and our web of relationships. Our

partnership with the horses, the demands of daily living, creating and nurturing an intentional

learning community all provided insights into ourselves, an abundance of opportunities to

practice management of our emotions, wants, and needs, as well as practice navigating and

facilitating relationships with others. We reflected on and reported growth in areas such as self-

awareness, curiosity, confidence, empathy, tenacity, and self-differentiation. Often the lessons

came up as doubts and questions on both a personal and shared community level. That inquiry

led to answers and choices that we lived out as we moved deeper into the experience.

Given the human capacity for projection, an honest acceptance of that reality and an open

curiosity about what it can reveal, there is then a very long list of things that we can discover

about who we are in the presence of horse. As in any other setting, enlightenment is always

possible, everything is right here in front of us at this moment. And yet of course this dictum is

not always particularly helpful. So we return to the question: Well, what is it that is unique that

we can only learn from horses? But of course there is no ‘one thing’ that can only be learned or

developed with horses separate from all the specific skills directly related to being with them. So

then the question becomes more a matter of being curious about: Given all the things we can

learn through partnership with horses, what are those lessons particularly well integrated by

spending time with horses?

Some of the lessons that floated to the top through our time with the horses and journey

together included:

o that we are stronger than we think we are

o that we can be powerful in the face of something much bigger than we are


o that being powerful can have more to do with clarity, presence, and consistency than with

force

o that we are human, and that there is room for both our strengths and our flaws

o that horses are just horses and that is an amazing and wonderful thing

o that trust is an essential ingredient in healthy relationships

o that slowing down is so hard and so worth it

o that how we feel, think, and act, affects others

o that we are each responsible for our own learning, choices , thoughts, and feelings

o that energy follows focus

o that just because we can do something does not mean we should

“What is the lesson? Eat when you can. Rest when you can. Be curious about

the world and trust yourself.” -AZT

Together these newfound strengths and skills formed a structure that supported each

member of the group as we rode further into new areas of physical and emotional challenge

during the months on the trail. Both the beauty and the struggle of this span of time spent

travelling was the chance for each of us to learn, relearn, refine, and re-refine, then more and

more deeply integrate the lessons of emotional expansion into who we knew ourselves to be.

On Expectations

Our entire being is organized around and heavily influenced by our expectations and

anticipation of the future and, at least according to the research summarized in Daniel Gilbert’s

Stumbling on Happiness; most of us are wired for optimism as predictors of our own success

(Gilbert, 2006). While this can be used to account for some foolhardy choices like playing slot

machines or the lotteries which Gilbert refers to as ‘an idiot tax’, it also allows for and drives

possibility. If we were not such optimists we would not be so willing and even determined to

try, even against very challenging odds.


For me the preparation for this expedition was no exception. Over the six years of

dreaming and planning I had woven elaborate expectations, hopes, and desire for the journey.

However, along with the layers of expectations and a strong positive belief in the journey came

the energy and momentum that was necessary to even take the first step on such an ambitious

expedition. Without the elaborate dreams the expedition may never have happened.

Each of us came to the beginning of this journey with our own expectations and our

individual interpretations of the shared identified goals and purpose that helped each person

actively take on the daunting task we had set for ourselves. This stepping up and diving in did

not only happen at the beginning of the experience, but each morning, even multiple times

throughout a day as we stepped in and out of relationship, or as horses were switched with riders.

At the very beginning of each encounter when you first become aware of the horses, there is a

moment where they first notice you. As pattern animals they might even be aware of you in

anticipation of your awareness-- they want food, or water, maybe off the high line or a head rub.

Each day was an opportunity to practice setting intentions for that contact, being aware of how

we were greeting the day, asking ourselves: What do I plan to do more of today that made

yesterday successful? What am I willing to do differently today? This conscious presence set the

tone for each new encounter. The question, or mantra, or practice can help us remember to

pause and notice, to approach each new meeting with a beginner’s mind. It becomes a

placeholder for our will.

“It really did hit me like the stories we tell ourselves about what we think we

know, like about our horses in this instance, and that how you know, maybe it

takes a change of scenery to be able to really knock a person or knock you out

of the stories.” - AZT

Our practice on the trail was to have unstructured time with horses, usually in the

morning between breakfast and pack up. We carried our question of: I am the student you are


the teacher, what is the lesson? in our minds. The idea was to be open and curious about what

the horses had to teach us each day. The lessons learned through this inquiry were wide-ranging.

More often than not the lessons were framed like questions rather than answers.

“So even calling you the teacher -I'm still assigning you a role in my life, how

am I accountable to that role for student and how do I support your role as

teacher? *Try to remain curious and open, more curious than convicted.

*Start with, "I wonder" and not have to get to a linear answer. *Be open to

trusting you.” -AZT

On Beginning

As instructors we were aware that Beginning is a critical part of any group experience.

We had planned almost three weeks for pre-expedition planning, connecting as a group and with

our horses. It seemed to us perfect, we knew we had a lot to do to forge those bonds. But after

all, we had dedicated lots of time.

As can often happen, this stage of the experience became dominated by executing

logistical tasks, and gathering equipment, information, and supplies. We discovered that two of

the rock solid horses we were leasing were pregnant and were not appropriate for the expedition.

There were challenges with our mobile satellite internet system, and a short in the solar panel for

the logistics stock trailer; equipment that was going to link us to all the schools and individuals

who planned to track our progress through our blog site. Our lead on locally grown horse feed

fell through; the truck needed a new battery…I could go on, but suffice it to say that all the little

pieces that can and will come up, came up in a way that rushed this stage of our development in

spite of our best intentions and planning. We were, on a big scale, having all of the issues and

challenges that can be present on any day of programming, but that are not necessarily as

obvious in short programs.


This same lesson came up working with the horse-related tasks, but we began to

appreciate on a whole new level the wisdom of, ‘take the time it takes’. When we got

myopically focused on a task or just getting something done we sacrificed important aspects of

relationships and created a situation that required more time, energy or management in the

future. There are issues that are present and not to be underestimated in any program, such as

appropriate horse selection or the unknowns and responsibilities that are wrapped up in working

with and being responsible to large animals. For us the complexities seemed to be amplified due

to the scope of the expedition.

“I've noticed that it is difficult for me when things don't go as planned or I

have to change plans or strategies suddenly. I'm finding that working with

Black Oak is challenging that tendency and bringing it up for me, and maybe

it's the nature of this whole experience that would naturally cause me to come up

against the inflexibility.” - AZT

What we bring to the relationship

A significant part of that initial time together was also dedicated to connecting people and

horses, and dusting off or building on individual horsemanship skills. We used time for

observation, groundwork, emergency veterinary skills and hoof care training, and a short

‘shakedown trip’ to check our systems. I understood prior to gathering together that there was a

wide range of horse skills in the group. I did not, however fully appreciate the difference in the

connections that seemed to originate from each individual’s level of intrinsic attraction to and

existing relationship with horses.

I have noticed in shorter programs that it can be more difficult for some ‘horse people’ to

be open and curious about horses in a new way, to set aside issues of performance or ego

attachment to competence, especially if they have a more traditional horse background. Also in

short programs, the uniqueness and power of horse is intriguing if not compelling for most non-


horse people. For individuals with no horse background but who have a strong draw or curiosity,

the space has a rich potential energy stored from all the mythic and romantic images of horse and

human over time. This energy amplifies the potential learning. For those who are more

ambivalent about horses, even people generally not drawn to or curious about horses can be

profoundly impacted by the lessons learned from and with horses as long as they have self-

selected to participate, or maybe just because it’s a time-limited, finite experience.

“Working with folks on horse skills: I am really aware of the skills

required on the human side in order to be more responsible as partners--to be able

to see and feel and understand the horse's perspective. There are skills that

require discipline and study in order to do that well. To be able to get out of the

way and not just be nagging and not be inattentive to the way they're holding

their head high because you're pounding on their back-- it takes skills.

Also, how that connects to your care of the environment or estuaries where you

have to really understand that environment.” -AZT

In the expedition’s much longer and intense environment of daily working and caring for

horses there was a clear difference between those with an intrinsic connection to horses, and

those who were drawn to or curious about horses but the horse was not a primary part of their

motivation for being on the trip. It was more of a stretch for folks with less time and experience

with horses to remain as curious and engaged with their equine companion living the reality of

day-in day-out travel down the trail, and the at times difficult or quasi-absurd situations we found

ourselves in arose. While there is clearly a universal quality and nature to these lessons,

accessing them at any real depth beyond the first spark, the initial superficial contact was greatly

affected by the individual’s natural attraction to horses.

“I feel that it requires both a sense of continual presence, continual caring,

and also a sense of humor and lightness, because it's so easy to get frustrated.

It's so easy to go to--Why don't you respect me? Why don't you do what I want?

Why don't you listen to me? Why aren't things easier? Why aren't we more

connected? Why does it seem like you don't care? You should care more. You


should listen to me more. There's beauty in being able to not fall apart. Stay

present with what my intention really is and be able to laugh when I'm still

figuring that out“.-AZT

What matters?

One of the gifts that emerged out of this tension was a dialogue about our engagement

with horse as representative of the other-than-human parts of our world. This ongoing

discussion focused on their presence, the job we were asking them to do, and the nature of our

relationships with them. This provided a focus on the personal, social, and ecological issues of

choice, responsibility and sustainability. Time and time again we were confronted with wanting

to be very clear about what really mattered most to us both individually and collectively. Not

only did it inform our conversations and decisions about standards of travel and group guidelines

for orders of priority in weekly grocery shopping, but it also catalyzed significant individual

paths of values clarification and applied choices.

What matters enough to do something different?

Finally arriving at the Grand Canyon after a hard first 10 days of travel was the marker

for significant new levels of exploration of the implication and responsibility of choice to

emerge. One night on the north rim of the Grand Canyon two participants decided to take up a

vegan diet for the rest of the trip. Their choices and commitment to dietary change helped keep

the larger group engaged in an evolving practice of intention around the food that supported us,

and the ways in which we supported each other’s choices. South of the Canyon two participants

decided that they did not feel right depending on the horse as ‘other’ or as representative of the

environment to carry them or their gear if they were able to do so independently. They ended up

walking for a good part of the next month. One woman, even in the face of significant personal

discomfort with blisters and foot pain solidly stayed with the challenge. Working with the

question: Just because we can do something, should we? Just because the horse can carry my


stuff, should I ask it to? mattered enough to her to have an effect on her choice to continue

walking. From the perspective gained from walking beside and with the equines she became an

important advocate for challenging patterns and assumptions about what the horses and the

mules carried on days when we would likely see the truck at the other end of the day’s trail.

Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back.

Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary

truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans:

that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves

too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have

occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in

one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material

assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way.

I learned a deep respect for one of Goethe's couplets:

Whatever you can do, or dream you can do, begin it.

Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it! (Murray, 1951)

Ah, but I digress…The beginning of the expedition pulsed with the sense of hope and

excitement that comes with fresh starts and new possibilities. We had a mounting sense that if

we could just get on the trail we would leave the complications behind, daily life would be

simpler and we would have the time we wanted to devote to developing the emotional and

technical skills that would coalesce this group of individual humans and equines into an

expedition team. For just hanging out or generally working together the relationships that we

had--people to people, people to horse were all fine.

So, with a bit of bluster and bravado…a desire to just get out of town, we stuck to the

calendar schedule and headed for the northern border. But, for the intensity of task we were

headed into the un-acknowledged assumptions and expectations that we never found the time to

articulate and the personal challenges we brought with us into the mix would be reflected as

friction and limits in the clarity of our shared vision down the trail. And as is so often necessary,


later on we would need to come back around and reconnect, re-ground in purpose and address

holes or blind spots in our relationships.

Maybe we didn’t ‘take the time it takes’ after all, or maybe, as we did, all you can do is to

take the next step. As Peter Block advises, “The answer to, ‘How?’ is, ‘yes’ (Block, 2007). So,

you begin and at the beginning you do not know what you don’t know. So we began. Then

later, when we found ourselves off center in our relationships: to ourselves, each other, and the

horses, it was important for us to stop and refocus the foundation of our relationships. We had

continued to focus on and tried to develop and enhance each person’s connections and skills with

the horse from the beginning. But after a difficult and dangerous epic few days on Mount

Lemon we came to a full stop and took a week long retreat to reconnect with not only our horses,

but with ourselves.

In the beginning we believed that through the execution of task, relationship would

develop concurrently and naturally. We made the assumption that if we stated our desire upfront,

that more experience and time together would mean a deeper relationship. What we learned was

that by focusing on the task we neglected the relationship beyond a utilitarian exchange.

Despite our intentions and espoused values, the relationship was largely transactional; I feed and

water you, in exchange you carry me and my belongings down the trail.

Pressing reset

It was not until we stopped trying to travel and instead, through the development of our

own horsemanship that had only the agenda of play and getting to know our horses that some

relationships took on a new dimension and heartfelt character. Prior to this a significant part of

our relationship to our horses was based on how well they fulfilled their role in the task. We

needed to set the task aside for a bit to see more of who they were, who we were in their


presence, and refine how we wanted to be together. We created some wonderful days with

longtime friends Barbara Rector, Laura Brinkerhoff, the Equine-assisted therapy program

director at Cottonwood de Tucson, as well as Jean Millen and David Landerville at Campo

Urbano. People had a chance to reconnect with the horses and with themselves as learners. We

became lighter and more curious, re-invigorated to continue our journey to the U.S.-Mexico

border.

“to be able to play with ideas, play with horses; play with each other--that was

very refreshing.”-AZT

As we headed south again there was a revitalized sense of connection:

“Today Churro has me thinking about always being able to be surprised by

your horse. They're intricate and dynamic beings and we should never reach a

point where everything they do is predictable and we know them inside and out,

because they are truly individuals and they think for themselves and they can

surprise us on a regular basis if we let them.” -AZT

“Hardy surprises me with what he is willing to do and what he is curious

about and in just being open every day to who he is. Seeing what Hardy can

do, I hope I can maintain my curiosity about who he is when we're on the trail

every day.” -AZT

The issue of boundaries arose often on the trail, as it arises regularly in any programming

situation. Often these discussions are framed in the context of the standards that are being set or

reinforced. What habits may be acceptable to you but do not set the horse up to be successful in

other environments? For example, it might feel like quite the love fest to have a horse use you as

a rubbing post to get a good scratch of the head. However, if they are working with other people

or younger kids that behavior might not be safe. Do they, or can we expect them to,

differentiate?


“Hardy comes with these stories of “you can do anything with him”. So, I find

myself constantly in his space, draping over him. He seems fine with it but I

notice sensitivity there about space and boundaries that I should probably be

more aware of when I'm interacting with him.” AZT

“It is important to relax and let things take the path that they're going to take

and be okay with that.” -AZT

A Mule’s view

For much of the trail we were able to rely on the mules’ basic connection with the herd

and ability to independently navigate the terrain we travelled. Allowing the mules more

autonomy to simply travel along with the group, navigating the trail or open country without

being led nose to tail in a pack string put more trust and responsibility on the mules to keep

themselves and others safe. It also minimized conflicts and hazards of ring-tails and wrecks that

can come with ponying a mule on a lead rope from a saddle horse. In relinquishing control of

another, allowing the mules to use their judgment, many of the normal hazards were averted.

How often do we create problems for ourselves by trying to control another, even if it is

with the best of intent to keep them safe? By not allowing dangerous choices, for example:

leading the mules while crossing the road, we can try to lessen the risk when the consequence of

the ‘wrong choice’ is too high. However we can get in the habit of making more choices than is

necessary and therefore unnecessarily limit the expression and development of the individual.

“Just because you can do something does not mean you should do it… and

just because you are doing it or have always done it that way does not mean

you should necessarily continue doing it that way”. -AZT

Highlines and Hobbles

One of the benchmarks we kept for equine care was trying to provide the least restrictive

environment that still provided adequate structure for efficiency and safety. This was a factor in

how we kept the horses at night, their spacing along the trail or on breaks at lunch, as well as


when we were grooming or tacking up. In all these settings we were balancing our convenience,

the safety of all involved, our capacity to attend, and our horses’ ability or willingness to wait

patiently and cooperate with the task.

It’s been said that we have to be at least as smart as a post to get a horse’s respect or

cooperation. While a post lacks many of the important living qualities of relationship or

leadership, a post tends to be consistent. It is amazing how quickly a horse with a basic skill of

yielding to pressure will stand quietly when tied up at a rail or hitching post, and how fidgety and

anxious they can get when they are being held by a person in the same spot. A tree or post might

not be a very romantic representative of leadership, but when a horse stands calm while tied to

one, it quickly becomes obvious that standing still is not the problem. The issue here is the

human struggle with our ability to be clear and consistent, the way our energy tends to reflect our

quality of focus, and the impact this often inadvertently has on others.

Acceptance along the Path

As learners and educators what do we do with that basic humanness that we all get to

bring with us into any given moment? Acceptance of our humanness is not a matter of

resignation or collapse. To recognize that everything is perfect just as it is in any given moment

does not mean it is good or that we should accept it as the standard for the next moment...but it

makes sense in that it follows from the moment and the decisions that came just before it. A

sense of acceptance also allows space for a different level of curiosity. When we are more

curious about ourselves or the ‘other’ that is actually in front of us versus remaining blindly

committed to an idealized version of what we believe should be we begin to notice the patterns

and underlying interests that seem to motivate choices. Whether working with people or horses,

we recognize that we are both pattern driven species. We are all behaving the way we are


because on some level it either has in the past, or is now working for us. Through negative or

problematic responses, horse and people attempt to train you to never ask that again. Or they are

doing their best to try to figure out what will work. Some horses and people both have pretty big

rol-a-dex files of manipulative behaviors that they can go through trying to get out of the

discomfort of a moment. Behaviors can be passivity, avoidance types of patterns or apparent

indifference, intimidating or threatening body language, redirection or dominance-assertion.

Moki’s Lessons

My experience with Moki is a good example of a horse with a big rol-a-dex of stories

and how those stories not only help us navigate relationships but can also be limiting. Moki was

a brood mare Spanish Mustang that had lived turned out with a herd of twenty horses on 1,000

acres. She had one foal. Apparently soon after she gave birth she was attacked by a mountain

lion that she successfully fought off but got raked by claws down one side in the process. Her

foal was taken on by another mare. Because of her history, I had created a parallel story that

some part of Moki believed that the world was unsafe. When I met her, and in general, she

seemed: confidant, respectful, strong-willed, and clearly pretty athletic. Meeting her in New

Mexico, then again when she first arrived at Chauncey Ranch it was fun working with her when

un-mounted. She was comfortable riding out on the trail exploring new country. About a week

after arriving at Chauncey ranch she had her first big fall-apart. Coming in from a ride with the

group we had stepped down in a small copse of woods for a break. Moki was startled and

bolted. As she took off between the mesquite, her energy spiraled quickly and she cut sharp and

ran hard through the middle of the rest of the horses. This strategy of cutting back through the

center of the herd may have been a strategy that had worked well for her evading predators, but

at several points would create havoc with the people and horses in her way. When she got


triggered or fell apart, she could get very athletic in her response. Once she charged down a rail

of tied horses, between them and the rail. Fortunately we tried to not hard-tie our horses so they

parted from the rail like a zipper opening in front of her. What started as a startle seemed to be

made worse by coming in season, meeting an electric fence for the first time, and a tough

experience with a vet drawing blood for a Coggins test. On the trail life was made hard by a

saddle that did not provide enough room for an easy swing of her broad shoulders. Her down-

right insistence on bucking and bolting seemed to be saying: No not again, not today, you are not

putting that saddle or anything that looks like it might be like that on me. At first I interpreted

her behavior as being based in fear. It seemed that on some level the world was again unsafe to

her.

It became clear, however, that much of the behavior had become more of a game and an

expression of dominance. On some level a pattern that may have contributed to her foal’s

survival in the past was working for her now; Moki had figured out a way to not be saddled and

therefore not carry a rider down the trail. I spent hours on several occasions putting on or off a

blanket or having her approach, touch and stand by a saddle. I was doing everything I knew how

to do to slow down and take the time to rebuild the foundation of trust and respect. I was willing

to walk with her all the way to Mexico if that was all we could manage to figure out. So each

day, approaching, grooming ... sometimes working with the saddle but trying to have it not be

about the saddle. And even though I felt like I was taking time and allowing, I am sure my

agenda often came through and she let me know in no uncertain terms that I had crossed a line.

It felt like I had clear intentions and was being patient, and no matter how hard I tried or

seemingly what I did, it was not enough or sufficient to allow me to consistently and easily


saddle Moki. Eventually when we reduced the total number of horses in our herd, Moki was the

first on the list to send back in order to tone down the amount of energy in our herd.

Part of the lesson seems to simply be that despite my curiosity, intentions and best effort,

things do not necessarily work out in nice neat ways that match our story book picture of how it

should be. And true to the notion that the thing we learn most about with horses is related to that

which we are already working on, Moki’s lessons for me required I accept that what I was doing

was not working, that I did not know what else to do.

“I have heard modern culture described as narcissistic…I fear it is true…no

matter what it is we are doing it is typically all about us; all the time.” _AZT

“Best we can do is put a question mark at the end instead of an exclamation

point…” –AZT

The horse does not necessarily want to co-create. They seem to prefer a clear sense of

leadership to show up in relationship-with. They do not necessarily have an empowered sense of

the possibilities. For there to be engagement in human related tasks requires our input in order to

harness the possibility of partnership with them.

In many ways the expedition and our time together was so intense and full of learning

that it was a bit like trying to take a drink from a fire hydrant. We were thoroughly saturated by

an experience that has continued to be reflected on and analyzed by all those who were there.

We all return again and again to that well for rejuvenation and reminders about who we choose

to be, what matters to us, and the lessons available from the other than human world when

facing new challenges.

A Variety of Experience

As was true on the expedition there are some people who have stronger or well

established connection to horses, many of whom have acknowledged and or benefitted from

these lessons. There are other people who are drawn to or feel innately curious about horses but


seemingly less inherently connected. And then while it is hard to imagine, those who simply see

horses as another prop on the landscape of life and do not feel their pulse quicken, their heart

swell and automatically seek to be in horse’s presence. To a certain extent this is true of any

teaching or learning modality. There is a required level of interest or engagement on the part of

the participant. This raises an important caution when working with intact groups or situations

where people have not actively chosen to work with horses. To simply assume that horses will

be an appropriate or profound teacher for them is not at all justified.

“This is the last recording I'll do on the expedition and it's after the

labyrinth with U-haul. So, I'd like to say that I come up with something earth

shattering or groundbreaking or really anything at all, but I haven't… I still

don't get horses and I really don't think of them any more as mythical or

anything particularly special… There's nothing inherently great about horse

culture. There are things to be learned from them but there are also a lot of

things that we have to ignore in order to learn from them.” -AZT

There is an “on-ness” that comes with travelling with horses. At the end of a day,

through the night, on layover days or days off, they still require our attention and care. As with

the auto-mule on travel days, we could periodically set up situations where there was a sense of

being able to “tune them out” by providing them with the space and resources to just take care of

their own needs. But even in those situations there is an important attentiveness that comes with

the partnership and responsibility. We were asking horse to serve as an emissary or

representative of the other-than-human world. And in so many ways they would not have even

been there in some of the really tough and difficult situations we found ourselves in except for us

asking them to be there and their willingness to come along. Time and time again we were

confronted with the impact of our choices.

“Why do we get to choose? Do the horses want to be here? How do we respect

and respond to the authority of the resource?” -AZT


With the end in sight

On the last day of the expedition, we had come over the 9,446’ summit of Miller Peak

and were camped about 1 mile from the US-Mexico border. It was a cold wet morning; sleet and

snow were pelting us. The Border patrol truck perched on the ridge above us with its collection

of high tech surveillance equipment. The day before we had walked a foot path to the border

marker, but the horses had all stayed in a nice corral and paddock area by our camp. Part of the

group had left to take the first load of horses back to Chauncey Ranch and a few of us were

waiting for the next trip.

We decided that we really wanted to ride to the border so we saddled up three horses and

started down the dirt road. We had left the mules and other horses in the corral. In less than 100

yards Mary Beth, a spunky sorrel appaloosa mule unexpectedly joined us. I trotted with her back

up to the corral to check the gate and fence line. From what I could find she seemed to have

jumped over the fence. While not something she did much, I had seen her jump so I was more

amused than surprised.

I told her, “Well if you want to come that bad you might as well come with us.”

We turned our noses back into the wind and sleet to catch up with the other riders. It was

not long after we had continued on down the road that we heard the sound of hooves. Looking

back up the road, U-Haul emerged from the blur of snow, followed by Ryder. Their presence

created a bit of a stir, but soon we all turned our attention towards the border. They all settled in

and accompanied us there, where we turned our backs to the wind and headed back to the corral.

Apparently U-Haul had busted through the gate and the others had followed along. Now, while

there are all sorts of reasons related to herd dynamics that can be assigned to explain why they

would choose to leave the hay and shelter of the paddock and seek us and their equine friends


out; the thing is that they did. There on that last day they made it clear that given the option they

were along for the journey.

New Mexico

After we said our goodbyes to the rest of the crew, Pam and I loaded up Crow Feather

and Moki and headed to Little Cayuse Ranch in New Mexico. Donna Brown’s horses are turned

out on a thousand plus acres. We arrived in the evening and turned them out into a large pasture

to go find their friends and ‘catch up’. The next morning we walked out a ways over the rise

before we saw the horses. A group of a dozen or so came over to check us out and say hi. Crow

and Moki were in the group that greeted us. After a bit we said good-bye and turned to walk

back in. Moki and Crow stepped away from the herd and followed us back over the hill to the

pasture gate. When we got there they each offered their nose, nuzzled us, then turned and trotted

off. You could still hear the sound of their hooves on the ground as they disappeared over the

rise. It was a new day and we were all off to our next adventures. At that moment, as in all the

previous moments we had spent together, we each got to choose just what we were saying yes to.

Looking Back

Two years later when I get a chance to cross paths with other members from the

expedition; a phone conversation, a trail ride, messages on Facebook, there is a shared

experience; we are all still reflecting on, sorting out and continuing to learn from our time

together and with the horses. In the midst of writing this chapter I had a chance to hear from

several of the members of the expedition. Consistently people spoke of it as having two facets:

being a significant and life-changing experience, and being hard and confusing. There are not

always easy answers or neat tidy packages to sum up their thoughts or experiences. What


follows are simply excerpts from their reflections; two years after the expedition but still clearly

on their journeys.

“The thing that was most significant about working with the horses on our trip

was the framing that you placed on relationship and the teacher/student

question. This was a completely different way of relating to a horse than I had

been used to. I always knew I got something out of simply sharing space and

not asking anything of a horse, but the clear intention behind a more spiritual

approach to relationship was addictive for me. It also came at an important time

in my life. I was finally in a place of safety and health, which I never really

thought I would get to. Having made it over the hump of drug addiction and

extreme health issues, AZT served as a reflection period of "what the hell just

happened to me in the last 7 years of my life?" and "who am I and where am I

going now??"

“I think working with the horses and asking the teacher/student question

was so relevant and applicable because humans like to look outside themselves

for answers. We often do not trust ourselves to make good decisions. The same

attraction comes with psychics, fortune tellers, priests, therapists, parents,

friends, organized religion etc. We will even go as far as to make something

seem true in our head if it comes from outside ourselves. We trust in the

outside. We trust in the mysterious. Answers are so important to humans.

Everything we do sometimes seems like a search for definite answers. We can't

rest until we feel like we finally know the answer.”

“The peace that comes with spending time with a horse and having an

epiphany that is seemingly shared by the horse is intoxicating. And with that,

I devoted my energy into trusting the other. The interesting thing is that the

horse doesn't say a word. All the material comes from within me. The answer is

there all along. But for some reason we don't want to trust it if it comes from

us but we will trust it if it seemingly comes from "other". I believe this is

because we don't want to take responsibility. It is so hard to be the one who is

truly responsible. That is a lot of pressure. And if it does not turn out well, we

beat ourselves up. …I readily gave permission to Churro to know me better than

I know myself, to know life better than I do, to be wiser than I am.”


“I was starting from scratch when it came to trusting me. My repeated

mistakes did not inspire much confidence in myself. Taking this trusting

and humble approach with horses is a form of medicine. It nurtures us and

keeps us safe. It's kind and powerful. It also teaches us that one day we can

trust ourselves, that's what it did for me. Practicing on other is the best way to

one day be able to do it for yourself. Love, acceptance, trust, compassion,

courage - horses can introduce these concepts to people in a nonthreatening way

that even gives us the skills to apply them to ourselves, which is the ultimate

goal because that's what I see horses doing.

At work, we use the phrase "what would Churro do?" or "what would Blue do?"

This actually ends up being the most common take-away from equine therapy.

It's easy and accessible even when you are nowhere near a horse. If the horse

gives itself permission to utilize self-care, then the patient feels that it's okay

for them to do it as well. We operate best with role-models, advice, suggestions,

guidance, etc.-- especially in tough times when we lose our direction and don't

feel like we can trust ourselves. Horses are role-models. The secret is that they

don't do a thing. They just live the life of a horse. ”

“And all this empowerment and security in knowing is actually fostered

by the "self". It's in there. We don't want to admit it. We are scared of making

choices. We are scared of being honest. We are scared of being responsible for

ourselves. And why? Because we secretly love ourselves too much to risk

screwing it up. We would only give that job to something "other" that is

considered better than the "self". It's an important job. Recognizing this is

sweet because it shows me that I do love myself. I value what happens to me.”

“When I thought I was weak by never having the answers or knowing

what to do or trusting in my choices, I was really just exercising extreme

caution because I am worth it. It could be thought of as defense mechanism that

gets the job done at the end of the day but takes care of the heart and mind by

not saddling it with the overwhelming risk involved in responsibility. The

brain is so tricky, but it has the best intentions.”

“I was trying to figure out who the new me would be. And I did. I thought

Churro showed me. But he didn't, he was just one really cute and awesome

horse, but I did the work. I found myself. I also took concrete types of behavior

from his example, such as self-care, being yourself - and if someone doesn't like


it then who cares, acceptance, honesty, speaking up for yourself, enjoying life,

giving it your best and being okay with whatever happens, boundaries,

confidence, effective communication, fair communication, respect, being

present, and so many more.”

“The AZT introduced me to the idea of meeting my needs while also

meeting another's. Most relationships with horses end up being about who's in

charge and who isn't. And with people, I was always the one who wasn't in

charge. It ended up not being a black and white issue. I found a balance. I was

able to stand up for my needs, but not force any more than that. He met his

needs and I let him be him. This is crazy relevant to people!!! And all

relationships! Sometimes you gotta reassess and let go of expectations and get

out of stuck positions! Give permission to others to be themselves and do the

same for yourself. It's a weight off not having to be responsible for more than

just yourself. Freedom.“

“For me, the Arizona Trail expedition was a turning point in my life.”

“Essentially, I have come to understand that each of us is stronger,

braver, and more intelligent then we could ever know, and fulfillment comes

about through the exploration of this process.”

“When I hear intentional community, I am reminded of Kurt Hahn as he

mentions the "ideal pasture" where our most innate abilities can manifest

themselves. As such, the Arizona Trail Expedition was an ideal pasture, and I

grew in ways that I am still discovering… I stepped out of many comfort zones,

and stepped into a perception of understanding that we are stronger than we

currently understand, braver then we know, and that curiosity is the most

authentic cure for boredom”.

“In terms of my relationship with horses, I can note a sincere difference in

the way I currently see and understand equines. I will probably not have the

same kind of spiritual connection that others seem to share, but I do find that

horses are definitely more humorous than before the expedition. Moreover, they

have taught me much about leadership and the importance of self-

differentiation… Some characteristics of what this could look like are saying “I”

when others around me are demanding “we”; having more clarity about my


personal goals and values; or, taking the utmost responsibility for my own

emotional being and destiny rather than placing the blame on outside

influences. As one can see, there is no switch I can flip to bring about a sudden

outburst of self-differentiation…During the beginning of the expedition, my

horse, Tonto, did not trust the decisions I was making, and I was not self-

differentiated enough to understand why this was happening.”

“When I tried to ride out front or away from the other horses, instead of

following everyone else, Tonto would become worried, turn around quickly, and

join the herd from behind. There were a few times when Tonto and I explored the

forest next to the trail away from everyone else. During these moments, I felt

curious about the surroundings. I no longer worried about “performing” while

on the saddle - I just explored, stayed curious, and it seemed that Tonto was

doing the same. This is where I learned about partnership and teamwork. By

the final day of riding, Tonto and I rode out front for a time and he seemed to

be fine. He trusted where I was leading him and this felt like a breakthrough in

our relationship and the relationships I have with others”.

“We all know there is something different and special about horses, but perhaps

it’s really that there is something different and special about us when we are

with them.” -AZT


Deepening the Experience

If we want the EAL/EAMH fields to mature in a viable way we should not and cannot

depend on the modality to advance or sell programming. What we are in the business of is

based on the goals or outcomes of a client, developing programming which -if appropriate- may

include horses, and then actively facilitating the experience towards the accomplishment of those

goals or outcomes.

In this chapter we will look more closely at the intentional role of facilitation in both

increasing the possibility of participants’ accessing the available lessons as well as the

appropriate transference and integration of those lessons into life. Much of this manuscript so far

is based on the notion that there is a great deal to learn from direct experience partnering and

working with horses. However, if the learning is in the experience why don’t we seem to learn

more and move on faster? If horses are such amazing and powerful teachers why in the world

isn’t our civilization or at least subcultures of horse people and cowboys much more evolved?

On the other hand some lessons are over-learned or mis-educative. There are over-

generalized lessons from experiences that can stick with us and be projected forward onto the

future in limiting or harmful ways. Mark Twain told a story of a cat which, after sitting on a hot

stove, never sat on a hot stove again, but then it also never sat on a cold one (Twain, 1897).

If someone has heard that horses don’t like their ears touched and gets quickly ‘trained off’ of

ever handling their horse’s ears, they have problems each time they go to halter or bridle their

horse. The behavior and the avoidance can spiral in a way that leads to even more drastic

interventions if their ears ever need doctoring. The lesson from this type of over-generalization

of experience becomes an introjection. As opposed to being internally processed, or thoroughly

chewed and digested into useable pieces, the experience and the new associated belief are


swallowed whole. This phenomenon is most often associated with negative or difficult

situations, but just as readily applies to positive experiences. Imagine someone who has had a

meaningful or profound transformational experience working with horses. They really love

horses and are drawn to the deep wisdom they seem to offer as teachers. Such a person could

easily pursue a life or career bringing people and horses together and believing based on their

own experience that time spent with horses is helpful for a wide range of populations with broad

and undifferentiated sets of issues. The commitment to the modality can become more

dependent on attachment to a meaningful past personal story than actual assessment of impact on

current participants.

It is also possible for life to present us with experiences and lessons that, for a wide

variety of reasons we may be slow to realize or integrate. Just because it becomes clear that

what we are doing is not working so well, does not always make it easy to adopt new patterns.

You might have heard this teaching story that is often used in the world of addictions treatment.

A person walked down a street and fell in to a hole…after finally getting themselves out and

dusting themselves off the next day they were walking down the same street and fell into the hole

again. Eventually after several trips down the same hole the person is able to walk and see the

hole but falls into it anyways, actually walks around the hole and then runs back and jumps into

it, manages to safely walk down the street without falling in, and then eventually walks down a

different street.

While the story is usually told in a humorous way it can be eerily accurate in its reflection of

human patterns. It is a slow road to change. “One of the definitions of insanity is doing the

same thing over and over again and expecting different results” (Brown, 1988).

While some of these overgeneralizations and blind spots seem to be connected to

defensive and habituated aspects of how we navigate the world, at other times it is simply a

matter of what we are attending to. A short video clip, Gorillas in our Midst (Simons, 1999), is


a wonderful example of even the perceptual filters that we create. It shows a small group of

people bouncing light and dark colored balls. When asked to track a specific detail in the clip,

such as the number of times people pass a dark colored ball, or the total number of times balls

bounce while being passed, folks typically come up with relatively accurate reports of the data.

When they are then asked if they noticed anything else particular about the clip the vast majority

of folks I have shown it to say ‘no.’ When you ask more specifically as to whether they saw a

person in a gorilla suit walk across the room and jump up and down in front of the group most

are pretty sure that was not in the clip they just watched. However, when you replay the clip,

sure enough there he is, and they wonder how in the world they could have missed it. While we

can consciously suppress information based on our established world view and beliefs we do not

even notice the gorilla in the room, whether that is peak oil or the impact of our behaviors on

others.

Once it is pointed out to us, or more importantly, once we are able to see it, the new awareness

can create a hyper-sensitivity that initially makes it difficult to focus on anything but the gorilla.

Then part of the work of effective transference becomes helping that person place the learning in

context. We are not well-suited to attend to everything at one time. But it is incredibly useful

for us to develop the capacity to step back and periodically be curious about other parts of the

picture we may be missing.

Neurologically this is reinforced in the development of our brains. In his work on the

evolution of consciousness Joseph Chilton Pierce (1988) describes young children’s brains as

literally a dense fibrous mass of neural tissue (like a dense spider’s web or a cotton ball). As we

have experiences: sensory, motor, emotional, different neural paths are stimulated. With each

use the neural path becomes more myelinated: the neurological process, by which the nerves are


strengthened, expanded, upgraded. Somewhere in our early teens there is a chemical flush of

the brain that removes all the un-myelinated pathways, leaving the brain looking more like a

busy road system. And while we can still process new information or create new patterns of

response, our basic tendencies are hardwired for ease of access. And wherever you go there you

are…not just in the manifestation of behavior, but in the thoughts and assumptions that literally

shape the very nature of the world we experience. Now we do not need to go down the road of

Quantum Physics and the parallel paths of reality suggested by Schrodinger’s Cat to begin to

understand that, for a particular individual, regardless of the ultimate nature of reality their

experience of it is a construct that is edited, colored and distorted by specific beliefs and

preconceptions. Out of all the data available to us, people select specific data determined by

our world view, to which we, assign meaning, make assumptions, draw conclusion, and

ultimately adopt beliefs which determine our choices and actions and informs the specific data

that we collect next. The progression through this mental loop is often referred to as the Ladder

of Inference and is based on a model developed by Chris Argyris and made popular in Peter

Senge’s Fifth Discipline Fieldbook (1994).


Backing down the Ladder of Inference

In an Equine-Assisted Learning session this may be represented by a simple judgment by

a participant. Imagine that during basic observation and then meet and greet type activities a

participant is asked what they notice. The first thing they say is that one of the horses ‘must have

been abused and does not like people.’ Regardless of the horse’s past or internal feelings it is

easy to imagine how that person could select for information to reinforce their belief. The horse

is skinny, there are marks on the horse’s hip, and he stands off to the side of the herd and moves

off every time the person approaches. They can also integrate potentially contradictory input

into the narrative. So when the horse approaches a staff person and lowers his head, lets out a

deep breath, the participant may dismiss it as: ‘well he depends on you, because you feed him, so

you are his safety.’ Depending on the situation and the goals of the session, it may be just fine to


let such assumptions and overgeneralizations stand, it is after all simply information. However if

we are working with them on social skills we may want to help them practice ‘being more

curious than convicted’. The facilitation of the experience becomes key to integrating the

lessons learned and then the ability to generalize from that experience; and for the participant to

be able to effectively transfer the learning into other dimensions of personal life. In this situation

you may help them back down the Ladder of Inference by simply asking them for two or three

concrete things they have observed about the horse or their behavior that lead them to believe the

horse has ‘been abused and does not like people’. Then based on their responses and the

situation you might ask them about other possible explanations for being skinny or standing in a

particular area, or draw their attention to other factors that might be affecting the situation.

As with other experiential approaches to learning and transformation, there are

experiences in our individual and collective stories which can catalyze transformational shifts

that directly engage the changes we are seeking to grow into. Conscious evolution is not

achieved simply by navigating the human condition from cradle to grave. In many traditions, it

is said to require a practice, a seeking, and often a full surrender into an essentially new way of

being. On the one hand, we can say that all learning is experiential and that in many ways until

we know something in our bodies, our muscle, our soul, we do not truly understand it. However,

as we discussed earlier, simply stacking up moment to moment experiences, inhaling and

exhaling what we already believe to be true, does not necessarily create change. If anything, the

layers of experience are more often used to layer calluses on existing habitual patterns. Any

activity, no matter how potentially profound, can become equally mundane and be used to

simply reinforce previously ingrained assumptions.


While there have been several studies that assert people learn in experience not from or after the

experience (Cole, Engestrom, Vasquez 1997; Engestrom, Mietinnen, & Punamaki 2003), there is

also plenty of evidence to support the somewhat obvious but important reminder that reflection

and narrative story created about an experience increases our interpersonal connections and the

long term connection to that experience.

The Experiential Learning Cycle

The process of how we gain

insight and adopt new patterns of

behavior is most often conceptualized

by the experiential learning cycle as

articulated by Kolb (Kolb, 1984).

Based on the work of Gestalt psychologist Kirk Lewin, Kolb’s cyclical model identifies four

stages in learning: Concrete Experience followed by personal Reflection on that experience.

This is then followed by the generalization of rules describing the experience, or the mapping on

of known theories to it--Abstract Conceptualization, and then to application of ways to modify

the next experience--Active Experimentation, which leads to the next Concrete Experience.

This gestalt may happen in a moment or over days, weeks or months depending on the situation;

and there may be a "wheels within wheels" of process at the same time. There are valid and

interesting critiques of this simplified model (Jarvis, 2006) and a wide variety of variations on

the theme of learning cycles (Greenway, 2009). Kolb’s model in particular provides a useful

platform for understanding the challenges of elevating meaningful experience to the level of

transformation. His emphasis on the reflection process as an essential part of learning through

experience begins to address the limitation of simply stacking up experiences. Accumulating


experiences will not necessarily support new insight. It can simply build up layers of habit; like

a hardened callous.

Even when we start to actively reflect on experience and create generalizations that are

transferable to new situations, we typically work from within existing beliefs and select

information. This cyclical process simply reinforces

what we already believe to be true. We either select

for the data that supports our operating assumptions

or if confronted by seemingly irreconcilable

circumstances, it is easy enough to simply change the

rules that we are operating by in order to make it all

fit. Similar to the reinforcing loop in the Ladder of

Inference, the experiential learning cycle can easily reinforce habitual patterns or ruts. The past

experiences and beliefs that we bring to the new experience, along with the cultural norms or

pressures that create the context of the experience inform this process.

Kerr and Gass (1987) modified the model to represent the role of nature and nurture as inputs

into this learning environment. In order for new learning to occur, we must somehow be able to

get out of our own way. Sometimes this can be accomplished by simply providing novel settings


and experiences in a supportive environment that encourages individuals to stretch, or learning

environments that actively support questioning preconceived notions and practicing new patterns

(Luckner & Nadler, 1997). Working with and around horses in outdoor settings surely provides

this basic novelty.

Such change can also be catalyzed by an existential crisis of hitting bottom as a pre-

condition for change, when a past pattern or story simply no longer supports itself. In any of

these versions, there is a need for the person’s mental processes to be open to being surprised.

Both of these examples are means of deepening the quality of noticing that is in the reflection.

They point towards a critical factor, which helps move past the well-worn habitual patterns that

lock us in much more shallow patterns of re-creating that which we already do.

Diving in Deeper

Otto Scharmer and Joseph Jaworski, in their work on Organizational Leadership with the

Society for Organizational Learning refers to the more self-limiting habitual type of learning as

“downloading” (Jaworski, 2012), where we are operating on existing mental models as a way to

interpret and restrict learning from current experience. In different ways our cynicism,

judgment, and ultimately fear obscure contact with the actual present moment experience. In

broad terms the four major phenomena that take us away from the present moment are:

o the regrets and old stories of the PAST ( ‘projection’ in gestalt terms)

o jumping ahead or anticipating the FUTURE (expectations)

o blaming others, what someone else did or did not do and your belief as to what OTHERS

should be doing

o our fierce ego protection of OURSELVES

Based on their work with Brian Arthur, Jaworski and Scharmer believe that the key to

disrupting the habitual download and reinforcing loops is to significantly slow down the process.

Their injunction for us is to “observe, observe, observe”. Deeper reflection provides a much

more profound source for moving forward into new ways of being.


Scharmer’s Theory U provides a helpful map for exploring a deeper quality of presence

in the potential lessons of this moment by illuminating both obstacles and opportunities, which

can then inform profoundly different possibilities for what we create next (Scharmer, 2007).

Theory U maps a contemplative engagement of experience that provides access to what Jaworski

refers to as “the source” and Scharmer calls “the emerging future”: a sensing of possibilities and

potentialities that can emerge from the future as we actively create it. The deepening of this

quality of reflection allows us to move beyond closed habitual patterns to the reflections of an

open mind, an open heart, and an open will.

The obstacles to this increased reflection at the levels of mind, heart and will are

correspondingly: the voices of judgment, the voice of cynicism, and the voice of fear. Each of

these defensive strategies seeks to stabilize and protect the individual by the over-generalization


and projection of past experiences onto the future. They are in fact products of that same

experiential learning cycle. Typically the patterns represented by these obstacles were even

useful or important at some point in the individual’s past, but as they become more entrenched

habitual ways of being, they often outlive their usefulness. These layers of defense literally

block our ability to simply access the current experience. They can limit our ability to access the

new lessons and perspective of the current moment, the here and now. If we do not slow down

enough to notice, or we are not open to genuinely looking for new input it is easy to simply roll

on by many of the lessons that each moment holds for us. The layers of open mind, open heart

and open will in Theory U suggest different levels of depth that are available as part of the

experiential learning cycle. However, we need to depotentiate the voices of cynicism, judgment

and fear that represent the other than conscious processes that obstruct our ability to tap into

deeper patterns of knowing if we want to integrate new ways of learning and being. This is not a

means of refining our ability to predict the future, but rather “learning from the future as it

emerges.”(Scharmer, 2007) Take a breath and try that sentence one more time, just let yourself

stay with the idea of learning from the future as it emerges…knowing that only now exists. How

do we support not only our participants but ourselves in a regular practice of connecting deeper

to the now in a way that informs both the direction you are headed, and the very next step you

will choose to take? Then the next one?

One of the precious gifts of well-facilitated learning environments is that we are invited

to slow down our own process and take the time to notice the patterns and habits that we

otherwise might simply be blind to and unknowingly move on by. When we take the time to do

this in the presence of horses and with attention to the available lessons, a whole new level of

understanding and inspiration becomes available. The unique and powerful experience of


connecting with horses not only helps us access our own inner well of knowing, but it opens up a

much larger realm of perspectives and possibility that can help expand our current limited world

view.

There is a significant difference between the dominance and predatory patterns that have

guided much of human evolution, and the highly sensitive prey patterns which have informed the

evolutionary success of Equus. However, simply spending time with horses, especially in

traditional power-over or dominance approaches to horsemanship is clearly not a sufficient

condition for positive personal growth and development. If anything, it can be a training ground

for the fine tuning of increasingly subtle patterns of dominance and control. Through the

manipulation of resources such as space, food, water, or the application of nuanced but decisive

force or external aids people have accomplished great feats of athleticism with horses. Results of

this dominance versus partnership can be witnessed, even in high level competitive

horsemanship, in the anxiety and displaced behaviors acted out by the horse. The neurotic

energy that is represented in this power over approach is, however, in many ways an indicator of

the untapped potential of those relationships. Alternatively, in the balance represented by the yin

and the yang symbol there is a reminder that the light is as big as the dark. In our relationships

with horses, when we begin to loosen our attachment on outcome and dominance models of

relating, whole new possibilities emerge.

Openness to the lessons of true partnership requires us to navigate past the judgment,

cynicism, and fear; not only to slow down but to focus our discernment on the patterns and

lessons that come from truly being present. It is the active facilitation of our partnering with

horses that can help us move beyond the romantic idea of horse as teacher or healer and into the

lessons and power of true partnership with them.


Layers of Facilitation

The evolution of experiential and adventure-based learning models provides a Holarchy

of approaches that can help navigate the profound quality of reflection called for by Scharmer’s

pathway down the ‘U’ to the Source or Presence. One way to conceptualize the significant steps

in methodological approaches for facilitating deeper and more readily transferable learning have

been captured in six generations of what Simon Priest and Michael Gass refers to as levels of

sophistication in facilitation:

1. Letting the experience speak for itself--learning by doing

2. Speaking for the experience--learning by telling

3. Debriefing the experience--learning through reflection

4. Directly frontloading the experience--direction with reflection

5. Framing the experience--reinforcement w/ reflection

6. Indirectly Frontloading the experience--redirection before reflection

(Priest & Gass, 2005)

It is important to recognize that a prerequisite to accessing the learning inherent in each

of these approaches to experience is deep and full engagement in the actual experience. When

the experience and interpretation of meaning is driven by the facilitator there are many ways in

which it is possible for the facilitation to become more like facipulation; a fusion of facilitation

and manipulation. Regardless of the level of sophistication, when facilitation is ‘done to’ a

participant the facilitator takes the participant away from their own experience. This can be

seen in some inspirational or highly directive styles of leadership where the facilitator either

heavily loads a pre-determined outcome or by directing inquiry in a direction that does not

support the participant to interpret the experience and therefore own their own learning.


At their best however, each of the methods of facilitation represented in the levels of

sophistication is intended as a way to maximize access to the learning available from the

experience. The ideal is to really help participants to drop more fully into their own unique

learning. These are methods that help participants get out of their own way and become more

open to a willingness to connect to lessons that truly matter enough to inform new ways of being.

A skillful application of these approaches in contextually appropriate ways, along with a genuine

sense of curiosity and respect on the part of the facilitator, can go a long ways to enhance

participant’s ability to engage meaningful learning from Equine-assisted processes.

Nesting Bowls

A visual that works particularly well for me in understanding the relationship of these

approaches to the core experience is this: I see experience as a pool of water, resting in it is a set

of nesting bowls that sequentially provide a broader and deeper container for gaining access to

the depth of the experience. While the pool may in fact be bottomless, if we simply stay on the

surface we are limited to a narcissistic reflection of ourselves in the experience. Then there are

these layers of input from a facilitator or guide that can help us move beyond the surface.


Ultimately, however, the depth of our exploring becomes a journey that we each must take

responsibility for.

The well of grief

Those who will not slip beneath the still surface on the well of grief

turning downward through its black water to the place we cannot breathe

will never know the source from which we drink, the secret water, cold and clear,

nor find in the darkness glimmering the small round coins

thrown by those who wished for something else. David Whyte(1997)

The value and wisdom of simply being with horses relates to the times when we ‘let the

experience speak for itself’. At its highest potential this profoundly simple pure experience

involves independent reflection and integration of learning that connects a person to a much

deeper source of insight. More often it devolves into what I refer to as ‘pet the pony’ type

programming. You put people and horses together in unstructured time, activities, or skill-based

training environments and trust that something positive will come of the experience. It is not

that this casual or recreational approach is bad or wrong. If it is the only thing we are doing, and

our goal is the facilitation of growth or change, it is simply not typically sufficient to reach that

goal. Remember, this does not meant that learning and growth does not occur in basic

recreational or skills instruction based programs. However, when it does the growth is either

participant-directed or there are other things that the instructor is doing to actually structure and

facilitate learning.


The simplest way the facilitator might be influencing the learning is represented by the

next bowl. It is the ‘Speaking for the experience--learning by telling’ level. This aspect of

programming reminds me of someone ‘preaching the gospel’. It is a didactic sharing of what we

believe to be true or have experienced. The value of this level of input is that it potentially alerts

the participant to pay attention to the experience in ways that they might not have done

automatically. Depending on how compelling the message and its delivery, such a directing of

attention can have a powerful impact on a participants’ ability to access meaning. At its best this

type of intervention can serve as a catalyst for more direct contact with aspects of the experience

that might have been easily passed over.

Example: out on a trail ride a wrangler commenting to a group of new riders observes,

“Seems to me there might be an awful lot a person could figure out about how they take care of

things that support them just by spending time on a horse”, or ascribing meaning to a situation by

telling a participant working with a horse named Blue something like, “Blue must’ve decided to

trust you, if he is going to let you pick up his foot and limit his ability to move.’

The next bowl or sphere of influence adds a layer of debriefing the experience-learning

through reflection. This is often the application of educational or therapeutic techniques that

facilitate active reflection and transference of learning. At its most basic and somewhat typical

implementation this type of debriefing or processing is often done after an experience. When

appropriately placed in a program, this application of facilitation may provide an opportunity for

someone in a different environment to self-reflect in a new way that helps illuminate or lead to

the discovery of habitual patterns. When done well, it can slow down and disrupt habitual

patterns and provide opportunities for someone to view their own experience from a fresh

perspective.


When it is applied at the end of an activity or experience a significant limitation of this

process is that it can often involve reflection on an individual or group having played out

habitual patterns in yet another new environment. They may have new insights into the limiting

or difficult aspects of their behavior; however, all they have actually practiced is more of what

they already do. This is a challenge for programs that spend too much time with activities

focused on ‘Discovery’. Unless there are meaningful opportunities to actually try and practice

significant and new ways of being, potentially all we have done is provided an opportunity to

practice limiting behaviors and to reflect on their limitations. At its best, facilitation of

reflection can occur in a timely manner throughout an experience in a fashion that maximizes

participant-centered insight, interrupts self-limiting or destructive behaviors, and catalyzes in-

the-moment integration and application.

Example: Imagine a participant who has spent time developing a connection with a

horse and is just starting to step into a leadership role in the partnership. You have set out a

series of obstacles for her to lead the horse over. As they approach a tarp on the ground the

horse stops. The person focuses their attention on the obstacle and tries to coax or pull the horse

across the tarp. The more insistent they become, the more resistant the horse becomes. After a

few attempts you let the participant know you are going to, ‘press pause’ for a moment, and you

ask her: What is the horse doing? After exploring that for a moment and maybe helping her

broaden their understanding of the horses’ perspective on the situation, you ask: What are you

doing and what seems to be working? You may even ask leading questions like:“So what is it

like when they get stuck, and does it ever feel like they get so focused on the obstacle they forget

to look up and focus on where they are going?” Or, depending on her responses it might be more

fitting to ask about:“Getting a feel for a problem by circling around it a bit”, or “approaching


something from a new perspective.” “In some new situations it may be important to follow

another’s lead.”

Regardless of the direction, the lesson becomes most alive when the person has an

opportunity to try a fresh approach to the obstacle that supports the horse’s ability to be curious

and confidant enough to move forward. In the earlier example of a participant picking up a

horse’s hoof, it might be a simple question about, “What do you think are some of the pieces that

go into Blue being able to trust you? And, “What’s important to you in order to be able to trust

someone?”

This willingness to step back and allow a group time and space to figure out its own

solutions is an essential part in experiential learning(Luckner & Nadler, 1997; Simpson, 2011).

It is important as a facilitator to be comfortable with an individual or group getting frustrated in

the midst of their process. At the same time, if what the session does is simply provide another

opportunity for participants or a group to practice being ineffectual in their lives, without an

opportunity to actually try something new or different, then we have failed them as facilitators.

The next two spheres encompass the last three approaches recognized by Gass and Priest:

directly frontloading or framing the experience--direction with reflection; and indirectly

frontloading the experience--redirection before reflection. Both of these facilitation categories

involve framing the experience in advance. In the midst of the pre-framed experience the

participants’ other-than-conscious processes generate an internal bridge to parallel life issues or

situations. Participants are simultaneously in the experience and practicing ways of being that

are relevant to other parts of their life or their stated learning goals.


The first of these levels--the more direct frontloading, maps a specific direction of

inquiry that is determined by the facilitator.

Example: A group is preparing to go out in a pasture and halter a horse from a group of

horses that they have already met and mingled with, with the simple agenda of being curious,

seeing who they are drawn to and which horse are drawn to them. If you want to focus the

learning on: how our agenda or intentions impacts relationships, as they get ready to head back

out you can front-load the experience with a statement like, Now, the horses might respond

differently to you when you are out in the pasture this time. I don’t know about you, but it really

affects me when it feels like someone is approaching me with an agenda, and I can even usually

tell if they have one, but they are just trying to hide it.

The indirect approach to frontloading provides a more open invitation for the direction

of focus and learning to be assigned by the participant.

Example: You are standing outside the gate to a round pen with a participant. Before

they go in you have him close his eyes and do a brief body scan that you have taught

previously. You let him know there is no need to change anything, just notice what it is like to

be in their body in this moment. You have asked him to come up with an intention for himself

when they join the horse in the round pen. You may or may not have had them share what their

intention is. Just before they enter, while his eyes are still closed and he is well grounded you

suggest, Regardless of your intentions going into the round pen today, you may have some notion

of what you think it should look like. Now I have no idea what is about to happen with you in

this space this afternoon, however I encourage you to notice….

There are so many layers of skills and techniques that can enhance our effectiveness with

any of these spheres of facilitation. Our own comfort and skills in the environment and with


horses, our presence and public speaking skills, group management and mediation skills,

understanding of systems, etc. are all important to honing our skills. Additionally, there are a

wide range of resources and tools for structured reflection: using various reflection cards,

drawing, guided questions, partner and group processes, as well as journaling or somatic

integration which can bring creativity and sometimes just the catalyst that is necessary to help

someone connect to the source of their own inspiration.

None of these layers or facilitation tools are inherently good or bad, or even better than

one another. They are all contextually useful depending on the situation and the immediate goal.

They are also very much a Holarchy of techniques. Each new level is dependent upon an

understanding and integration of the other levels and results in new emergent possibilities for

learning and teaching. Ultimately however, they are all simply tools to help participants access

their own direct experience and learning from the experience. To know which tool to pick up in

what situation requires familiarity with the options that are available. And then to use any of

them well requires practice.

The spectrum: from education to therapy

One important topic that has spanned the development of this field is the connection

between educational and therapeutic experiences. There has been a great deal of debate about

what to call different aspects of the work, and who does and does not do what. It is important to

clarify and explain the definition of these terms within the field. Education, in classic

terminology is easier to define: the process of learning and acquiring new ideas or skills--either

through the transfer of information or skills from an educator to a student, through a facilitated

process, or in a self-directed process.


It is also understood in classic terminology that the skills and credentials required for

legal practice of psychotherapy or mental health counseling are different than those of other

educational environments. The social contract between client and therapist in psychotherapy is

also defined by specific boundaries, assumptions and goals based in the desire to change

problematic behavior or beliefs of the client. At the same time, to the extent that therapeutic

connotes any activity that supports healthy growth and healing, ideally all relationship-based

educational and experiential enterprises will be therapeutic. The field of Equine-Assisted

Learning is no exception to the latter understanding of the term therapeutic.

You might think of this therapeutic spectrum as similar to the spectrum of light. At the

cool blue end would be activities based strictly in the content-skills acquisition side of

educational engagement, while at the hotter red end resides the intensely personal space and

work of deep psychological change. Much of the work of EAL and EAMH programs is clearly a

mix of the red and the blue. There is also a significant range of experience centered in the purple

part of the spectrum. Whether this range of experiences is Education or Therapy depends on a

few factors: the training and credentialing of the facilitator, the social contract between the

practitioner and the participant, and the direction and goals of the work.

There can be educational programs that are profoundly personal and emotional, or

therapy sessions that are highly psycho-educational and life-skills oriented. However, any

activity that asks a person to stretch beyond their present skill level--whether those skills are

technical, interpersonal or intrapersonal, is likely to evoke an emotional response that has to be


skillfully met by the educator or therapist in order to support healthy or transformative change

within the client/participant. In this light, much of what many of us in the field do, regardless of

the door we come in through, would be considered therapeutic. I’m sure you have or will

experience EAMH/EAL sessions that span this spectrum, from those that focus on life skills or

other psycho-educational cognitive and behavioral issues to those focused on personal awareness

and growth with a deeply personal emotionally-charged component.

Whether you are doing Equine-assisted learning as enhanced recreation, facilitating

group or organizational development, or working as a life coach it is important to understand the

emotional issues and potential triggers of the population you are working with. Typically, when

we work with emotions that arise in the context of a learning environment it is appropriate to

help the person connect to the present moment in a manner that supports a productive learning

environment for them. At times it will be equally important to check in with participants to

encourage them to seek other personal or therapeutic resources to support their personal growth

process.

As with the horses we exaggerate to teach and learn and then we refine, refine, refine.

There is often a point along the road of refinement when folks tend to denounce or push away

from the exaggerated or awkward manifestation of introductory models. Wherever you are in

your process of developing competence as a facilitator there are certainly patterns or models that

have served your growth and development, as well as your participants. As you refine your

practice, periodically slow down and notice the basic building blocks and assumptions. Maybe

more than anything notice and listen to your participants; their stories, their insights.

This notion of exaggerate to teach and then refine, refine, refine shows up often in the

world that humans and horses share. In training horses, some of the basic learning both on the


horse’s and the human’s side can be exaggerated and big. Natural horsemanship was historically

critiqued for this because many of its students were for so many years novices. What people saw

of the work often seemed exaggerated and awkward.

It may help to use an example from other parts of teaching. When teaching interpersonal

communication I work with three part assertion statements. Students squirm and balk at the

awkward contrived structure of, “when you…I feel… because…” They struggle to take out the

judgment, blame, or condescension in order to make all three parts meld clearly and cleanly with

no twisted daggers, hooks, or barbs. They want to be more organic and natural. But if a student

cannot identify clean statements in that exaggerated framework, it is unlikely that the message is

going to be very clean when they try it free style. Applying this communication example back

into the world of horses and riders makes it clear why exaggeration followed by refinement

matters: why in the world would someone think that they can have respect and clear

communication with a horse from its back if they do not have that on the ground?

So in our programs, what does exaggerate to teach or exaggerate to learn mean?

Starting with ourselves it means that when we are trying something new or stretching from our

comfortable habitual way of facilitating or teaching, we may need to commit to staying with a

practice or an idea even when it feels awkward. If it does not feel awkward or promote some

level of anxiety, then most likely we are simply doing what we are already comfortable with.

This may be just fine…refinement is often a subtle practice. When refinement is hard and

awkward sometimes we just need to go back and revisit the basics and our assumptions.

Curiosity about our own process becomes part of the practice.

John Lyons (2002) asks the questions, “What are the ten things you need to be able to do

to do the thing you are having a challenge trying to do?” In the case of bridling a horse I can


easily identify six…you need to be able to approach the horse, have the horse stand quietly

beside you, have it drop its head, have it yield its head around to the side, be able to organize and

support the bridle in your hands, and ask the horse to open its mouth. But so often we get stuck

trying to do the larger task without breaking it down. In facilitating a session this slowing down

and deconstructing the experience can simultaneously help the student exaggerate the practice of:

observe, observe, observe. Having a good personal understanding of your own habitual

responses can provide the cues of what to attend to, and opportunities for pause that reconnect us

to the source, the flow that allows us to move forward.

Digging a well

As a relatively young field, partnering with horses as a modality for personal growth is

often facilitated by individuals who have a sense of the power and importance of the available

lessons, but who have not fully engaged in their own focused path of learning from and with

horses. It is similar to a facilitator sharing or using a yoga activity or asana as a teaching aid

without being a student of the form. While it is quite easy to grasp the surface meaning or

importance of the concepts, there is not a first-hand depth of knowing of the territory they are

trying to help others navigate. The source of the knowing comes from a much deeper

commitment to the injunction of that practice: a Tai Chi instructor told her class of advancing

beginner practitioners--yes, if you do the practice for 30-40 years there is much to be learned.

Since stacking up experiences potentially only reinforces poor habits, it is not simply the

repetitive doing of the work but an active engagement in self-exploration and personal

development that fuels the practice. There is a level of richness and knowing that can only come

with a commitment to the time, effort and focus required by the journey into new ways of being.


We are just at the front edge of what we might learn from taking the time to develop

active human-equine partnerships in new ways within a more than human world. While we have

had thousands of years of co-evolution, we are at the very beginning of a new era of exploration

and discovery. The path of the centaur invites us into the possibility of the present moment. It is

an opportunity to take personal responsibility for what matters enough to compel ways of being

and living that are congruent with our deepest values. The outcome of the journey and our ability

to bring others along is dependent on each of us committing to continued personal growth and

learning. Earlier I mentioned the spiritual injunction of the importance of being willing to dig a

well to find water. While there is something magical about those places where water seeps to the

surface, the field of EAL, and we as its facilitators benefit from the work of coming together

with discipline, curiosity, and respect to share the answers that each of us has found and the

variety of questions we have explored. Separately and together we continue to dig a well deep

enough to be a source for new ways of being.


Possibilities….Putting the pieces together

The goal of this chapter is to ground the ideas and lessons gleaned from my experience

from the expedition and my experience as an experiential educator back out in the actual delivery

of Equine-assisted programs. Ultimately most of my work is shaped around the basic sequence

of: Beginning, Connecting, Relationship and Task, and Ending that I have mapped out in the

chapter: You are the teacher. Whether it is a short two hour demonstration or three months on

the Arizona Trail the phases of: Beginning, Connecting, Relationship and Task, and Ending

are the categories in which I tend to conceptualize all the different types of activities involved in

a program, regardless of the style or approach we use. This not my version of how Equine-

assisted programs should look, but rather a thin slice of one way they can look. While I believe

that this structure and many of the core concepts and ideas are easily transferable to a wide range

of situations, styles, and outcomes, the way you put these pieces together will hopefully be

unique to you. Depending on your background and personal style, the population you are

working with, the goals for that population, and the herd that you are partnering with, you are

asking a specific question of the work. Remember; if you are asking a different question than

someone else, it is very important that you are able and willing to come up with a different

answer. When we develop a cookie cutter approach as to what the work should look like, and

then apply that to different situations we are in danger of doing the work to our participants

instead of with them or for them. We would be in danger of running our participants through an

activity, rather than being curious about who they are, what their goals are and how might we

create/customize an activity to help them reach their goals.

While I have included sample activities to illustrate phases of the work, this manuscript is

not framed as a field guide. Rather, these examples are intended to be a map and compass to


help you explore the terrain and develop your own voice, path, and practice. I have shared some

of the metaphors and framings that I have found useful and adaptable to a wide range of

populations over the years. These examples provide an entry point into the work. They are

simple codifications of a work session. Rather than the activities, structures, props or guidelines

that I or anyone else might provide, the success of that same activity in another setting ultimately

depends on its relevance, the skills of the facilitator, and the participants themselves.

As facilitators we create and hold the container for the experience. As the architect of

energy we are charged with maintaining the sequence and space that helps people slow down,

and observe. We must take the time it takes to connect with them and the experience in ways

that then bind them to the lessons that are relevant on their path.

Meet and Greet

Connecting


Endings

As obvious as it may sound, it makes the most sense to start at the beginning and build.

However, there are lots of really good reasons--but even more poor ones-- that have us jump in

to the deep end of the interesting and compelling activities that are further into the sequence.

They are bigger, more obvious, entertaining, and typically more in line with participants’

expectations. Often, jumping into the more dynamic activities which introduce specific tasks

just rescues us and our participants from the anxiety that slowing down often evokes. People

who are not schooled in inquiry methods, or don’t understand the importance of self-awareness

will naturally focus on the Doing rather than the Being. Our whole culture is based in the value

of doing. What is the most common ice breaker question in this culture? Not: Who are you?


but, What do you do? ; A subtle but persistent message that it is not who one is, but what one

does that matters.

The low task level, high-awareness orientation of the Meet and Greet phase emphasizes

that the session’s end goal is to become a more self-aware and highly functioning human through

conscious application of self to task. It is helpful for facilitators to be able to assess groups or

individuals at an activity level that optimizes our ability to see how our participants and horses

work together. Slowing down and starting at the basics of Meet and Greet allows us, as

facilitators, to be more curious about the actual participants that have shown up in front of us,

then adapt the program to who they are and their specific needs. When there’s not a lot of overt

action taking place it’s more obvious what modifications are necessary to support the intended

goals or outcomes.

As key elements in Emotional Intelligence, a lack of individual awareness and relational

skills can have a strong influence on all members of the group, both human and equine. It can be

a set-up for disappointment or frustration if you expect a group at liberty with multiple horses to

be a productive learning environment if the participants do not have the emotional intelligence to

effectively navigate that space. Additionally, the impact of low levels of self-awareness is even

more dramatic as you increase the complexity of task-based activities.

I will note however that, depending on the population you are working with, there can be

advantages to launching right into activities that help catalyze a participant’s investment. What

is crucial to making that successful is providing the time and discipline to step back out of the

‘doing’ and into the more curious foundational parts of ‘being’. Imagine if you were trying to

teach children soccer by only drilling, dribbling, and passing before you ever let them just run

around and kick at the ball. When you provide either an immersion or a taste of an activity--a


‘whole- part- whole’ sequence, it can actually motivate the need and desire to learn more. When

we do decide to move quickly through Meet and Greet and Connecting then go quickly into

more task-based programming the goal is not to frustrate, but rather to motivate or engage the

sense of possibilities.

In a presentation on experiential education, John Gookin, the curriculum director for

NOLS, the National Outdoor Leadership School, spoke of keys to learning from his years of

experience (Gookin, 2010). One was that people learn more, and more easily, when they are

having fun than they do when they are tense or frustrated. Secondly, people learn better doing

hard things the easy way than doing easy things the hard way.

So, this 4-stage sequence could overlay a day or a series of sessions, or any of the pieces

could be pulled out to be shaped into a session or a day on their own. From my years of

experience engaging and inspiring participants’ Presence, I have found time and again the value

in simply starting at the beginning, taking the time with the Meet and Greet; then creating

Connections that build a foundation of skills and perspective that folks can carry with them and

practice in activities more representative of the Relationship and Task phase.

MEET and GREET

The Beginning. You are programming from the very first contact a participant has with

your program or your materials, even before they arrive onsite. You, in person, are the architect

of their experience both literally and energetically from the moment they step onto your site. I

encourage you to actively use the time when folks arrive or spend travelling between different

parts of the day intentionally. Depending on the question you are asking of the work this might

appear very different.


Develop and post on a white board or flip chart a simple set of instructions for what your

participants need to attend to prior to the group gathering to begin. Ideas might include: filling in

personal information on a connections board, creating a name tag, selecting a postcard from a

collection that represents something relevant to the focus of the day that they can share as part of

their introduction. Be creative, but keep it simple. Above all know your participants and try to

match the energy of the request to the population.

Notice how you begin. Is there a pattern to it? Are you excited? Nervous? Is there often

a last minute crisis that scatters you? What do you do with the energy or anxiety that comes just

before you step up into your work? Who or what helps focus you in a positive way as you

prepare to begin? If you are centered and not rushing the final details, it is easier to have energy

to greet folks, make contact.

Arriving- Welcome- Introductions. Imagine your participants flow through the space

as they first arrive. See the space with the eyes of someone arriving for the first time, the

information they might need. If they are not going to be immediately met by an individual, use

simple signs or flip charts to welcome them, orient them to when and where you will begin, and

maybe something they can do in preparation.

It is vital that you and your staff be Present, be curious and connects with each person; stepping

into the space to model and support the types of relationships you hope to initiate and maintain

through the program.

In your introductions, structure the flow so that folks have an opportunity to speak early

on, it can help them be more present. Start with simply a name and one word to describe their

energy, or where they are from, or a favorite color--it gives them voice and provides you with a

quick impression of their presence. Be careful of spurring a long or tedious go around by asking


an open-ended question such as ‘What brought you here?’ This can invite epic tails of drama

and intrigue that hijack your space and time. ‘What brought you here?’ is potentially a very

important question to come round to, but later on in the experience.

Take some time to provide an overview or sense of the flow of the day and to help people

center and become more fully present. Next, some people use verbal agreements such as

Barbara Rector’s, ‘My name is, _______, and I agree to take responsibility for my safety and

learning and thereby contribute to the safety and learning of this group’. Depending on what

you will be doing, other safety instruction or centering activities may be helpful. For example, if

I am going to be working with the group on the themes: curiosity and patterns around

boundaries, I may do a short activity like this.

Example: Have people approach each other while noticing internal and external cues

related to their own and each other’s comfort with proximity of others. I want them to practice

noticing the subtle layers of contact, the internal barometer that shifts as they move from noticing

or being noticed across an open space, through increasing proximity into personal space and

contact. Play with proximity and silence; have them share insights with their partner. Through

this they get to briefly become more aware of some of the ways they do that in the human realm

so that they can carry a heightened awareness about boundaries and contact into meeting the

horses.

One way in which this plays out in working with groups is creating segues that help them

move into the activity. So, you may be in one space just getting started or you’ve been

processing an earlier piece. Now you are going to shift the energy into a more active activity.

Simply name that with a preparatory comment like: ‘In a moment we are going to get up and

head back out with the horses’. Once you are headed in a direction, you want to build on that


movement and not frustrate it. Only give the information that they need for what they are going

to do next. For example: ‘Circle up outside the paddock.’ Along the way, depending on the

distance they need to travel you can use transitional activities of partners sharing, building

rapport, establishing connections, sharing intentions.

Meeting the horses. This is the perfect time for a transitional instruction, a statement

that bridges what you were just doing and how it connects: ‘So we are going to take some of the

ideas we were just sharing and see how we can apply them in our next activity.’ If there is

something you are asking them to pay attention to you can direct that as well: ‘So as you are

getting your jacket on and preparing to be out for a while, remember what it was like to

approach and be approached by others.’

If the initial gathering space is away from the horses, participants can then explore that

same dynamic as they spread out and slowly approach the area where you will be meeting

horses, stopping and pausing at different boundaries or points of contact along the way. ‘When

do the horses first notice me?’ ‘What is it like to be noticed?’ ‘When do we first start to affect the

horse’s movement or activity?’ ‘What is it like to arrive at the physical fence or boundary

between them?’

At times I might have a group progress to simple observation of a herd in a pasture or

paddock, or meeting horses at stall doors if they are kept inside. In other situations I have really

appreciated the lessons that come from a slow ‘titration’ of multiple horses into a paddock area.

Example: In this scenario I ask participants to be spread quietly around the edge of a

space, backed away from the rail enough to allow the horses to be more focused on their own

space than on engaging the human observers. I ask that they simply notice all they can about the

ways the horses interact or what they can learn about the relationships and roles amongst them


by watching them. Then, one at a time, leaving enough time between each addition to allow the

dynamics to shift and settle, release a small herd of horses into the paddock. Depending on the

day and all the variables, this can be a high energy space, or it might be a bit more ‘like watching

paint dry’.

When I first started using this activity I was quite honestly interested in there being

enough energy and movement to get attention. I have even used food in the space to have the

horses more clearly demonstrate how they define space and dominance. While in certain

situations I might still do so and believe it can be a powerful and appropriate way to adjust

dynamics, I also have come to be more aware of the personal ego needs as a facilitator that might

motivate such a decision and the ways it can be done poorly. Over time I have come to trust and

appreciate more subtle and calmer energy versions of this phase of observing. It is, of course,

important to know the horses you are turning out together and for that to be a part of their

experience and normal lives. Even with horses I know and trust I am always ready to step in and

provide more structure or guidance for the herd if they have a difficult time being safe.

As you gather the group together, just right there in that first 15 minutes there is so much

material to work with. If the goals for the program are highly participant-centered I might

simply ask, ‘Out of all the things you could notice in their approach and the interaction of

horses, what did you notice?’ And then, ‘what does what you notice say about you, about what

is important to you?’ And with that second question, depending on the population, you might

not even actually ask the question, but rather hold it in your own mind as a part of your ongoing

assessment of individuals and the group. This can also be an easy entry point for sharing some

foundational information about horses, their senses or behaviors, as well as information about

how to manage the risks of interacting, playing and working with such strong and large animals.


If your goals are more specific, both the framing at the beginning of the titration and the

debriefing questions can be more focused or directed towards the areas that you have come

together to focus on.

Approach and Retreat, Boundaries. The next step along a progression is to make that

meeting more personal. I particularly enjoy working in environments where it is safe and

acceptable for people to approach horses in large open turn-out or pasture spaces, where horses

have clear options to move away or towards people. The meeting can then be varied: across an

open space, standing close by or actual physical contact.

As you are introducing this next phase of meeting the horses, it can be a time to reinforce

safety reminders, introduce more information about equine behaviors, and review non-verbal

body language or cues that are important in communicating and working with horses; concepts

like differences between predators and prey, approach and retreat, or slowing down and allowing

the horses to initiate contact if that is to be a part of the meeting. Understanding and paying

attention to what helps horses feel safe can go a long ways towards helping people stay safe

when they are out amongst the herd.

You may want to have people go out and ‘meet’ a certain number of horses or as many as

possible in a given time. Maybe ask them to notice who they are drawn to and which horses

seem to be drawn to or curious about them. Depending on the space, the herd, the group, and the

level of supervision available it might be appropriate to have only one or two people out at a time

while others continue to observe. It might be just fine to have a much larger group out all at one

time. While these decisions are not simply dependent on what you are comfortable with, that is a

really good place to start as an indicator.


Connecting

“The capacity of an organization lies in the power of its relationships.” Meg Wheatley (2009).

Of course, long before there is physical contact between a person and a horse, or a rope

linking them, there are a multitude of connections being explored and patterns being developed.

All of the various parts of the Meet and Greet section are developing a foundation and setting a

tone for connecting. There is also a profound shift that occurs when those connections are made

manifest in physical contact. For some, connecting through using their fingers to groom and

scratch on a horse at liberty, exploring favorite scratch spots and more sensitive areas might even

become the full extent of the task that they will engage in with a horse. Other times I might use a

haltering activity, either individually or in small groups, to explore the way in which the

relationship shifts with the horses once there is the human agenda of ‘catching them’. There is

so much wonderful material to explore in this agenda shift: authenticity, leadership, and the

impact of our presence on other. At other times I might simply go out and halter a horse and

hand the lead rope to the participant so we can move on to other activities.

There is often an opportunity to at least demonstrate, if not explore, someplace in these

seemingly simple activities concepts of: approach and retreat, the difference between direct-line

and indirect approaches to a goal, or how slowing down can sometimes help it actually take less

time. Typically the potential for insight then is in exploring the quality of the connection rather

than is simply catching a horse. When I do catch a horse, I would like it be an experience that

makes it easier for me to catch that horse the next time, or better yet--for the horse to be

interested in catching me. I am interested in nurturing that same attitude in my participants.

Leading. I remember Leslie Desmond encouraging folks to maintain a small belly of

slack in any line they had attached to a horse (Desmond, 1999). In this way the connection is


not a constant nagging. The slack in the rope is a little smile that conveys connection without

tension. Then, when you do take the slack out of a line you should be teaching something. Once

you get a response or a try, you need to reinforce the learning with that little bit of slack. That

release of pressure simply helps the horse understand what you are asking and allows the horse

to follow through. With just this little bit of information, when participants are leading a horse

they also get to notice when the horse is actually doing what they have asked. As leaders they

can simply allow or support that partnership versus trying to micromanage the relationship. I

have then been on some wonderful trail walks with students where participants have explored

issues of leading and following, partnership, boundaries, and setting expectations. Now they

have begun to develop much more effective communication skills not only from the ground, but

that easily translates later into mounted work.

I have had the opportunity to facilitate for several of the longer residential format

programs. In that setting there is enough time for students to learn how to tie rope halters prior

to working with halters on horses. Starting from zero like this is a rare and amazing opportunity.

In the choice of materials, the necessary attention to details, the variety of ways to learn from

step-by-step guides, to freehand understanding the knots, seeing 3-4 different ways to tie the

same fiador knot … all can serve as metaphors for what it takes to create connection. The

qualities of lightness, strength, simplicity that we sought in those connections are much more

apparent, as is the incredible responsibility that comes along with using any halter, but especially

a rope halter. For those fortunate students, slowing things down enough to start with such

attention to craftsmanship, and drawing out the time it takes to establish positive relationships

while working at liberty for an extra day or two clearly translated into other areas of

craftsmanship and pride.


Creating and supporting movement. ‘Nothing happens without pressure’ is actually

more than just a provocative statement. On many levels it is actually fairly accurate. Whether it

is the diaphragm and muscles required to take a breath, the pressure of your weight on the

ground when taking a step, the sun appearing to rise over the horizon, the push and pull of direct

and indirect pressure are in the mix somewhere.

Beginning to pressure or influence the horse, and their energy and movement is the next

layer of activity that naturally begins to emerge as we start to relate to and connect with the

horses. This is one of those crux moments in programming where we get to make important

choices about the role of horsemanship skills in a particular program. As with the example of the

students who did not use leads or halters until after they had learned to tie a rope halter, you can

introduce and even do all of your work throughout a program with horses totally at liberty. In

terms of the horse skills, development will come with some introduction of driving or indirect

pressure. However in terms of human skills, it is the person’s intention and presence that

determine whether the work will go smoothly or not.

You have probably seen or can imagine someone working in a round pen or larger arena

space with a horse at liberty. You can recognize the clear impact of their timing, body position,

and adjustment of energy input into the system on the dance of movement that occurs. There are

significant horsemanship skills and experience that go into doing that well. When it is done that

well you can feel the respect and recognition that the human and the equine accord each other.

Unfortunately, there can be ‘another side to the coin’ here too, when a shift happens and asking

the horse to move or respond becomes about ‘horse tricks’ in a way that can dismiss or discount

the same clarity of intention and personal presence that was so powerfully effective in the first

scenario.


There can also be much less structured agenda for what a participant might explore with a

horse in a round pen. When Laura Brinkerhoff, from Cottonwood de Tucson, shares the ‘round

pen reasoning’ framework that she uses with dual-diagnosis adolescent girls struggling with

addictions there is a powerful emphasis on open space. The intention for the session is set by the

client. Prior to entering the roundpen the client will practice a brief centering activity or

emotional body scan and then sets an intention for being with the horse. While that may involve

a task like circling, moving at gait, or some form of a join-up, it could be an exuberant dance of

celebration or a shared moment of silence.

With executive leadership participants in the same space a session may be framed in

terms of their relationship to people they supervise. Or as with a group focused on parenting

issues, you can imagine the parallels if they find themselves running around, working harder than

the horse, micromanaging, actually blocking or getting in the way, or are not getting respect and

response from the horse that allows them to focus on anything more than keeping the horse

moving forward. What it would it be like for them to be able to settle into a defined area, maybe

as small as a hula-hoop, in the center of the round pen, expecting and allowing the horse to

maintain gait and direction in a way that allows the participant to relax and be present in the

midst of that action in a new way.


In the realm of Relational Horsemanship, the phase of applying skills and relationship to

tasks is sometimes referred to as ‘putting it to purpose.’ The task can help both the person and

the horse focus on the shared space with an emerging sense of purpose. Building on the

connection and the relationship and then doing something with it, AND in the midst of the doing

to continue to build, enhance, and refine relationship. For this next phase of programming you


simply begin to ask something more of the relationship than co-existence. You begin going

somewhere, leading over obstacles, having specific tasks to accomplish. At this phase you begin

asking participants and horses to solve initiative tasks or simple ‘can you?’ exercises. Can you

have your horse go between these barrels or walk over this tarp? And then can you do it at a

walk and calmly, or at gait with energy and enthusiasm?

This level of task-as-activity can be done with just an individual, in pairs or in groups.

There are collections of activities and training manuals available from EAGALA or PATH Intl.

as well as from programs which have evolved specifically for Equine-assisted programs. There

are even more initiative type activities from the world of experiential education, challenge course

programs, and adventure programming that can be modified and done with horse. Some of these

activities fit wonderfully just as segues and addition pieces for a well-rounded program, sans

horse. Others can be modified to include the horse. For any of these activities where you do

involve horse it is important to be clear about the role or purpose of the horse. If the horse is

integral to the process, ask whether the role the horse is playing objectifies the horse. If there is

a purpose to the horses' presence in an initiative activity, set up and frame activities in a way that

is clearly enhanced by the relationship your participants practice in the presence of horse. And

then with a little creativity, curiosity, and keeping the participant and the goals of the program as

your guide there is no shortage of options.

The types of activities that I have used over the decades in this Relationship and Task

phase of program extend from participants living with cancer stepping into a leadership role

leading a horse in an arena to explore with what one participant described as realizing they

could, “take charge of something bigger than myself (his cancer)”, to the three month horse

packing trip this manuscript is based on. It has included initiative type activities like the ones


mentioned earlier to mounted cage ball soccer or broom polo and trail rides. On the expedition

we used a basic rubric:

Is it reasonable? Is it a reasonable thing to expect this being to be able to do? Are they

set up to be successful? What do I base that assumption on?

Is there a purpose? Just because we can do something does not mean we should. How

do we determine that there is a purpose? If the answer is because I said so, if so, how

often is that sufficient?

and then, Is it fun?

At risk of being a bit like a dog with a bone, I want to reiterate that profound and

meaningful work can happen at each of these phases. Each phase can be contracted or expanded

in time and scope. While it is possible to get stuck in, or have gaps, in any of these areas I have

experienced and observed that as facilitators we sometimes use activity or ‘doing something’ to

relieve anxiety-our own and/or our participants’. Meet and Greet and Connecting often get

shortchanged on the short road to getting something done. Even with a very short time frame if

you have taken the time it takes to establish a good relationship and you are paying attention and

being curious with each step, those first greetings and check-ins can look quite minimal but be a

rich experience for both participants and horses.

When we slow down, simplify, over-generalize, or exaggerate we are setting people up to

practice patterns of being that are essential in relational horsemanship, and even more so in daily

navigation of the human world. A unique space can be created through an intentional practice of

being with horse in a way that prioritizes healthy relationship and respect. It is a perfect place to

catalyze a practice of being more fully human in all relationships. Our participants get to take

that learning in the other direction too. Hopefully they get to try and practice a new and more

effective way of being when they are with the horses that inspires them to bring that difference

into the rest of their life.


Endings

Saying Thank-you, Good Bye. As representatives of modern western culture we do not

tend to be particularly skillful at endings. Some folks may consider this lack of skill as simply a

matter of poor socialization while others might draw connections to human fears and challenges

dealing with the big questions of impermanence and even death. Whatever your experience with

and approach to endings, each time we leave a horse, or end a session we get a chance to practice

in a way that reflects our values rather than simply our habits. Often just managing your time to

support and allow for an intentional ending will make a huge difference in the overall quality of

your participants’ experience. Build in time for folks to go back out and thank the horses, not

only as a show of gratitude, but if you also ask people to choose a horse and verbalize what they

learned from that horse, there is the opportunity for independent reflection that can deepen their

learning.

Another ending can involve putting energy into the care of the horses through service

learning. Service learning can incorporate taking care of the horses, for example, by cleaning a

paddock or feeding the horses. Having the participants learning about other parts of what it takes

to support the horse allows for new levels of reciprocity in the relationship.

At the very least provide space and time for saying thank-you and good-bye. Regardless

the impact of the day or the individuals in the group, some folks in a group may be ready to be

done and mentally already out the door while others seem captivated by the day, the lessons, and

the possibilities such that they don’t want to leave. By being aware of and reflecting the variety

of internal realities with the language used in your transition and framing, you can help them

practice being more present in the actual moment.


There is then a nice opportunity to extend that process into the quality of appreciation and

ending within the group of people. In different situations you can use a variety of activities to

formalize the ending to your day. Regardless of the population I often like to use some sort of

transference object as a gift that each participant carries away with them. A variety of items

from horseshoes or horse head key chain fobs, to hats or bandanas can easily be framed in an

activity where each person names a lesson or appreciation from the day that the item will

represent for them. With the right population and a little advance planning you can also have

participants each bring a small gift or token, a part of themselves they are willing to give away.

This has been a powerful closing for programs working with adults living with cancer. We ask

them to, bring something that they are willing to give away that has been an important part of

their journey and represents health and healing in their life. At the end of the day individuals

take turns choosing an item that speaks to them by and the person who brought it shares the story

of what that gift means or represents. At the end of a day focused on what supports health and

healing, this ability to not only accept support, but to be a resource for others on their journey has

been a true gift to all involved.

Ending the journey. On the expedition as well as in many shorter programs the ending

was acknowledged even as we had barely begun. This can look like a reminder that in the end

we will be right back here and you will end up back at home on your couch. Every step we

were about to take was literally out of our way, and with most programming that is true. There is

a reason we focus such attention on the journey. So we begin with the end in mind. You can

ask, “What will make this experience worthwhile… at the end of the day, week, month,

expedition, or even years from now when you look back, what will have happened or more

importantly what will you have done to make this time well spent?” You are setting up both the


individual responsibility as well as the acknowledgement of the scale of time you have together

to engage your purpose for coming together.

Just as a horse’s energy and sensitivity extends well out in front of its nose and well

beyond the tail in the rear, our direct impact on participants, and the other-than-conscious ways

in which they are impacted by us and the horses, starts well before they arrive and hopefully has

positive ripples well after they have left.

As a part of our ending for the Arizona Trail expedition we all went our separate ways for

a long weekend after we had taken care of the basic logistics of returning to Chauncey Ranch.

Each of us kept track of, what did we notice? about ourselves or the communities we were

returning to, what stories did we find ourselves telling? What did we appreciate about the

learning community we had formed together? Then we came back together for a final four days

of celebration and closure. At the end of it all the situation was turned around and we took time

to slow down not only the ending but the re-entry; applying once again the basic practice of

approach and retreat that was helpful when we first met.

However you structure an Ending whether for a day or for a longer program stay mindful

that it is also of course connected to a beginning. For some it is the beginning of a new way of

being in or navigating the world. Whether through the transference object, a letter to themselves

that you will send after a pre-determined period of time or a simple sharing circled up at the end

provide some ritual that helps them connect with something that matters to them that they hope

to carry forward from the experience. Tomorrow, if we are lucky, we will get another one.


Take care, travel well, do good work, and remember…it’s a journey so enjoy the ride.

Namaste


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