Last week I shared on Facebook about my conversation with a mare who had lost herself. The pressure to perform, the feeling of being overlooked, the long road back to her own feelings. The response touched me deeply, because so many of you know this. Not just from the stories I share, but from your own daily life at the stable.
Many of my clients carry something with them that weighs heavily. They have learned to see their own horse with different eyes. They sense what it needs. They give it space, time, real connection. And then they walk into the stable, and see how things are for the other horses.
How they have to perform. How they are expected to deliver, regardless of whether they are having a bad day, regardless of whether something hurts. How little connection between human and horse is sometimes felt. How they are cared for, but not truly seen.
And that hurts. It really does.
What touches me most deeply is this: the horses I speak with carry this too. They suffer not only from their own story, but also from the fact that their friends in the stable are not doing well. Horses are so sensitive, so perceptive. The suffering next door does not go unnoticed.
Perhaps you know this feeling of helplessness. This inner conflict of seeing something that makes you sad, and not knowing what to do with it. Speak up? Criticise? Explain?
I believe that is rarely the right way. The moment someone feels criticised, they close off. And then nothing gets through, no matter how good the intention was.
What does work, often far more powerfully than words, is leading by example.
When others see how you are with your horse. How you take your time. How you ask instead of demand. How you both visibly enjoy each other. Something very quiet happens in the other person’s subconscious. A small thought: “Oh, so there is another way.” A first moment of reflection. A door that opens just a crack.
It is not a fast process. But it is real.
And then there is something else you can do, something concrete and without much effort. Say a kind word to the other horses. The stable neighbour who is barely noticed. The horse that always waits until all the others are already outside. Greet it. Give it a gentle stroke. Say something nice.
Being seen, even just for a moment, makes a difference. For the horse. And for you too, because you no longer feel so helpless, knowing that you are giving something, even if it seems small.
You cannot change the whole world at the stable all at once. But you can be a small light every single day. For your own animal. And sometimes for the one standing next to it.
With love, Tanja