CHAPTER NINE SAMPLE: Looking for Love
Written by Liz

...There have been many seasoned horse people who have approached my barn in fear and trepidation. Some refuse to enter the paddock feeling unsafe with a dozen or so large creatures that move at will, sometimes at considerable speed. It's interesting, because I have noticed two distinct horse-people types: those who love, and those who fear. This does not mean one doesn't employ a healthy sense of attention to their surroundings; horses are powerful vehicles, and like driving a car you proceed with caution. What I am referring to is a strong distrust, possibly based with good reason on encounters, but with horses this simply backfires and creates the feared situation.

The lovers approach is one of altruistic fascination. Self is forgotten, and they are lost in communion with the horse. These are the worshippers; horses are the religion, an awe-inspiring inspiration for a richer life. The fearful ones have not yet connected at a higher level, with the wisdom of HORSE, and seem to view them more as work or sports equipment. They read the instructions and are careful not to get hurt.

We worshippers are content in sensory overload. Proximity is everything; a divine encounter, and an encounter with the divine. Horse immersion is to me the ultimate; I can happily mingle with a dozen horses, welcoming them to interact at their own discretion or to simply share with me their energy as a group. When I was new at this and not able to understand each nuance, I would cringe when one of them lifted a foot, sure that a kick would follow. Over time I realized how acutely aware they are, able to lift a hind foot and scratch a particular spot behind one ear. They knew precisely where I was in relation to that foot and in fact had they wanted to dominate me, could move me with a casual blunder forward, or an "I didn't realize you were there" maneuver. This I realized, they were masters at, when I started Parelli. "Oh excuse me, did I step in your circle and make you move your feet?" Prima would say, using skillful body language. It was a game to her, and she taught me to read her language well. I remember her pleasure when at last I won the game. Horses are comfortable when they have established a leader and no longer need to play the challenge game.

I watched the herd and how they all bowed to L.E.s' will. She was a master and needed only a subtle look and a particular set of her body to accomplish her will. Not even my little Diva, most adept street fighter, would even consider another option, and I never saw L.E. do more than just hint at what she might do. It seemed that the middle mares Diva and Mira, and some of the younger ones like Winnie and Luxy had a job to maintain or advance their order in the herd, but L.E. remained undisputed.

I watched L.E. and began to train like she did. Just a glance at a horses shoulder or hind quarter would move it, but there had to be a certain tip to the head; a concentration of focus that was unmistakably clear. We would play a game called stick to me. I was the benevolent leader and treat dispenser as this game was fun and based on positive reinforcement; a human adaptation of horse language. Treats could involve food, scratches, or effusive compliments; an opportunity for one on one with their human. The horses loved this game and would line up to go with me, or even approach me at an opportune time and ask for it. A crook of my finger and eye contact with the particular horse and off we would go; usually at a run to get out the gate, before the others wanting to play. I would close the gate behind us or I would have two or three horses fighting to go over the bridge or get up on the tires, lunging at each other so only they could be with me.

The purpose of the game was to lead the horse happily away from the herd without any mechanical aids, (so it was all their choice), and teach them to watch my body language and depend on me. It always amazed me how much more quickly they would do things for positive reward, rather than threat of punishment. They developed a curious and happy attitude knowing that they were free to participate or not. I was always careful not to stretch their limits to the point where they would run back to the herd. I would give them time to think about it, or maybe run back a short way if spooked, and then encourage them again. I believe this develops their capacity to reason out situations and trust my judgment rather than just act blindly in a fearful situation. In the end they will jump much higher out of love and trust than fear.

(pg. 2)
CHAPTER ELEVEN SAMPLE: Larger than Life

...So now I will explain my theory, and the title to this chapter, "Larger than Life,"
Larger, of course, means more visible, which is what I believe is the gift that horses share with us. They bring the spiritual realm to life. Being empaths, and living as all animals, at the crossroads of the spiritual and the physical worlds, they interface with our higher selves. When we spend time in their presence, we open to their world. As I wrote before, it's like being immersed in a foreign culture. After time we absorb the language and the customs. Immersion in 'HORSE' leads to communication and understanding in the spiritual realm.
We become comfortable in their world; a world of crystal insight where pictures and feelings flash clearly across 'MIND' - and 'MIND' is a timeless connection to a higher truth.
Beyond this dimension that is known to the ego, lies the simplicity of what is clearly obvious to animals, and equally obscure to we humans:
"We are all one with God, and God is all there is: Relax and enjoy the
experience.

CHAPTER FOUR SAMPLE: Gateway

...Generally in the morning there were snoozing horses everywhere; bodies stretched out, legs extended and heads on their soft pillow of sawdust. I had no idea how soundly horses slept until then, or that they snored. Mira's babies all snored, although it was a wonderful sound and sight; all those horses, relaxed fully, without a care in the world. This state seemed to permeate their days.

There were two large wood hay feeders in the paddock outside, built to a height where the horses could get their heads over the top, or eat hay through slats along the sides. There was a shelf along both sides to catch their favorite crumbs of alfalfa that fell from the hay. I usually fed a mixture of pasture grass with a bit of alfalfa. It was always available year round to encourage the horses to return each day.

They developed a routine almost immediately, and their days became a cycle. They could be seen returning between six and seven each morning, head to tail usually, unless something had excited them, and then it was wonderful to watch. There were four gates out at different sides of the ten acre foal pasture, which surrounded the inner paddock. When excited the herd generally split; some running in the end gate, and others along the road and in the side gate. This increased their exhilaration, with the additional thrill of being separated, and there was always a contest to see who was the most expressive and impressive. They would run in, leaping and bucking, do two laps of the inner paddock with the hay feeders, (which was 100 yards square, and had three gates,) out one of those, around the pasture again, and in another gate.

Depending on the level of excitement this could carry on for several laps. I have never seen such beautiful movement: passage, piaffe, and canter pirouettes, all done with an elevation never witnessed under saddle; all absolutely breathtaking. Most days they will calmly wander in, one after another, and take their place at the hay feeder, or below my window to beg a handout.
In the summer, I usually take my coffee and sit in the sun, back against the east wall by the door. I allow several feet of sawdust to spill forth from the front door for that purpose, and horses sprawl next to me for a morning sunbath. I grain them an hour or so after their return (when the grass is sparse)or give them a few treats, and then we have a grooming session. My horses really enjoy this freeform exercise. I pull out the brushes, shedders, scissors etc., and one by one they come over for their attention.

They will even stand stock still for a trim with the scissors, ears, under chins, or feet; they love to be looked after. There are some who want all the grooming: (Winnie, Epona, and Magic are the worst), and will sidle in and place their head under the brush when I am in mid stroke on another customer. I find this morning grooming a time when I can, not only physically check the horses, but also their mental and emotional state. I always talk to my horses, telling each one how special they are; making note of some wonderful attribute like how sweet they were to groom so and so, or how I enjoyed watching them leap and dive when they galloped in that day. I love each one and tell them so a lot. I explain what is going on in their lives or mine and ask for their input. I tell them how special they are to me and the particulars of why. All this takes place informally as the horses usually decide who needs the most attention, and the interaction is on an as need basis.

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