The Communion of Horse & Human
- Matt M.
- Dec 6
- 8 min read
Updated: 6 days ago
By July of 2016 I was living in Colorado for three months. Each weekend I would find myself on a new hiking trail. I explored Denver, Boulder, Fort Collins, Central City, Idaho Springs, Colorado Springs and I'm sure other towns I'm just not remembering. I felt possessed by adventure. I was being guided by spirit to expand myself in all directions.
On one Friday afternoon in July I was wrapping up my weekly tasks at work. Then out of nowhere I was inspired to get back to my apartment, pack a bag, get in my Jeep and drive to the Great Sand Dunes in Southwest Colorado. Once I was home, I hit the road. I didn't even research any hotels to sleep in. I was on spiritual auto-pilot and would figure out where to sleep once I arrived at my destination.
The drive from where I lived in Denver to Great Sand Dunes National Park was life evolving. Time seemed to move slower as I drove. My physical senses could not process all of the beauty. I was in a constant state of awe and reverence. This road trip was also so perfectly timed that it felt like the Sun was a passenger to my experience. The closer I would get to my destination, the more the Sun would set over the horizon.
By the time I arrived to the Alamosa area, the Sun had completely set. My solaran passenger had called it a night and I aimed to do the same. As I navigated finding a hotel to rest in, I was observing the pitch black state of the highway. I could not see any of the surrounding area because there weren't any highway lights in this part of Colorado. It was spooky and excellent at the same time.
The next morning I woke up and I was excited to go to the park so that Phase 2 of this impromptu trip could begin. As I headed to the park, I was in a continued state of awe. The views, the mountains and the valleys were breathtaking. The night before I could not see any of them so now I felt like I discovered Inner Earth or was somehow transported to a planet in another star system.
Then I began to notice horses. A LOT of horses. It seemed like there were horses on every piece of property that I passed. I remember having a distinct idea come into my mind. I thought, "I bet there are places near my apartment that would need volunteers to help with horses".
The very sight of these horses inspired something within me that I wasn't accustomed to. While in this moment of inspiration, I began to remember hearing the perspectives of others from throughout my life. For example:
"I don't trust horses. They will kick and bite you."
"The horses in central park are mean. You can't trust them."
Although these thoughts of doubt arose within my mind, I would not be deterred. In fact, these past projected perspectives only added fuel to my fire. I accepted in that moment these fear based perspectives were a result of societal and cinematic cliches, not objective experience. I didn't even make it back to Denver before I found a horse rescue organization near my apartment.
Two weeks later I attended a volunteer orientation to be interviewed at the horse rescue I researched during my recent trip to the Dunes. By September of 2016 I began my journey with horses. On my first day at the rescue, I was introduced to a horse named 'Sarge'.
During this introduction, I was being guided by my volunteer shift lead on how to muck out a pen. I thought to myself: "Who is going to go in and get him out of the pen so I can muck it?". I echoed this thought to my shift lead and it made her laugh out loud. She expressed that I would be going in there with Sarge and that I shouldn't worry. Sarge wouldn't do anything.
The lesson in this moment was to:
"Respect his space and he'll respect mine"
After receiving my shift leads guidance, I gently entered the pen. Sarge was a bit older then the other horses but he had the heart of a mustang. As I mucked the pen, I saw him and took in his presence with a childlike wonder. It was beautiful. Even if Sarge didn't want a new human best friend at the time, he now had one.
Not too long after I met Sarge, he would be integrated into a herd within one of the pastures on the property. During each of my shifts, I would make time to see him. Sometimes I observed him from afar. Sometimes I stood in the pasture with him. Other times I would see that he did not want visitors so I respected his space.
It's understandably so easy to get lost in the beauty of a horse. Their physical presence is so commanding. Their energy feels magnetized. You want to embrace them and commune with them. However, your natural instinct to connect with a horse doesn't mean they want to. I found my greatest bonds with horses came out of my respect of their space. Over time I would evolve my understanding of this respect to be a knowing of equality.
The more I detached from the cliche's of the equestrian world, the more I thought to myself: "If I were in their shoes, how would I want to be treated?". This allowed me to explore equality with a species different then my own. It was powerful because up until that point I saw "equality" as a concept that mainly resided with beings of a perceived higher brain function such as our human race.
At the rescue I would witness horses arrive to the property that were physically and psychologically abused. Horses who were abandoned. Horses who were so overused in riding that their spines could not longer tolerate the weight. Horses who were saved from being slaughtered for human consumption. I thought:
"These horses arrived here to get away from the pains of their past. They are here to heal. They are here to rejoin the herd in a way that wasn't available to them before."
This realization led to an important understanding of myself. My new volunteer gig wasn't something to just do on the weekends. It was a universally scripted part of the healing journey I began in 2013. This experience would lead me to review the traumas from my own life, to understand their root causes, to heal them and integrate them so I can re-enter my own herd known as the human race. This process of healing and integration would amplify over the course of eight years.
One of the more popular questions I am asked when I speak to others about my experience with horses is, "Do you ride them?"
The answer: I have ridden four times in my life, each time on a different horse. Ultimately, I have never really been interested in riding them. It wasn't out of fear but because of an understanding I knew within my heart.
In my opinion, I believe there is more honor in being in the same space as a horse then being on their backs. Again, I put myself in their shoes and ask myself: "Would I appreciate someone riding my back as a form of entertainment or would I want to share the same space with them equally and in peace?".
Does my perspective mean that I am against horseback riding altogether? No. I have experienced many people who ride with a profound respect to the mind, body and soul of the horse. They share a bond of spirit in the ride and it's truly inspiring to witness.
I do not resonate with those of the equine world that ride horses to win ribbons, use them as blunt tools or to satiate their need for having power over others because they are projecting their own emotional wounds. These are purely ego driven purposes.
Over the course of eight years I would meet many different horses. Some I connected with, some I did not. Regardless my respect of them being equal to me would always remain true. Then one day, I met one of my greatest friends. His name is Duke.
Duke was thoroughbred race horse. At the peak of his racing career he suffered a fracture to his hip or leg. Miraculously, the fracture occurred in such a way that he was not euthanized. Duke would be cleared to live out his days.
When I first met Duke I was provided direction that he was "difficult" to handle. I took that direction under advisement until I actually had the opportunity to meet him. When I did finally meet him I could sense why he would be perceived as "difficult". Although the barn he stayed in was adequate for his size, it was not for his personality. He needed more space.
Additionally, I could see the fear that some of my colleagues displayed when they escorted Duke to the pasture. Another key aspect of horses is that they are extremely sensitive at an emotional level. They can energetically sense you almost as quickly as they can smell you, if not more quickly. I would even say that Duke was more sensitive then most horses that I have been around.
So if you take a highly sensitive horse and meet the horse with charged emotion, such as fear, you are increasing the likelihood that you are going to receive some sort of fight or flight response from them. Remaining neutral in the present moment while identifying what the horse is telling you without verbal communication allows the relationship between horse and human to flourish.
After a few weeks I requested permission to escort Duke to the pasture. I was a bit intimidated because I saw how he would behave with my colleagues. However, I knew that I wanted to dive in and began my relationship with him. As we walked together, Duke showed that he was an equal opportunist, he had no problem performing the same bucking and kooky behavior that I saw him do with my colleagues.
Over the course of a year and a half, I would spend as much time with Duke as possible. I would help him remain calm during farrier visits, I held his giant head as his teeth were being cleaned, I would help retrieve him after he escaped the property (which was my fault by the way) and I would help support his fears by remaining neutral.
The practice of emotional neutrality provided Duke and I the bridge between our two worlds. We obviously didn't speak the same verbal language, but emotionally we are similar. Like Duke, I am highly sensitive. When I'm in a room full of people I become charged. If I'm confronted by someone who holds great fear or anxiety, my heart feels it. Breathing, neutrality and boundaries are imperative for my sensitivity.
I am grateful for my time with Duke. We experienced a lot together and I know that we learned from one another. He will always be family to me and I will always cherish his wisdom, playfulness and clear communication. Thank you my dear friend Duke.
Compassion, Neutrality, Non-Verbal Communication and Equality are the most significant lessons that horses helped me remember about myself. These lessons, along with the power of Vulnerability, would become the foundation to explore my spiritual life in ways I never thought were real.
Thank you for taking the time to read this blog post or watching/listening to the podcast episode. Have a great present moment!
Matt
Audio Podcast | https://planetphoenix.podbean.com/
