Today I visited a farm that has an active, heart-centered rescue program  as well as a training program for area kids. The daughter of the director told me about a competition for training wild Mustangs: 90 days to get the horse from wild to being under saddle.  The young woman is a consummate, compassionate horsewoman.  Nevertheless, that made my stomach lurch.

Here is why.  This month marks a year that I have been working with Nelson.  When I met Nelson, he was pretty wild, but not just-off-the-plains wild.  He had been living at a sanctuary for several years.  He was not able to be handled, but he was not climbing the fences either.  What I am most proud of during this year is not the big strides that Nelson has made in terms of being able to be handled, being calm, being groomed, able to take direction, or any of those training goals that we have accomplished.

I am most proud that at no time  have I done anything that was against the horse.  I never forced him, never frightened him.  And I never gave up.  I never got angry.  It is not that I have never gotten angry at a horse.  I have.  I am not proud of those moments – usually when I am riding.  But with Nelson, I never went there.  I knew that I would lose him, and because I am not holding him with ropes or reins, losing him was always on my mind.  And in not losing him, I also did not lose myself.

As a result, my most joyful time with a horse is not with my own horses but with Nelson.  The difference is that here is more being with Nelson than doing.  I am not readying him for riding, or competition, or any human use.  I am learning his language.  He is learning mine.  My intention is that he feel safe, can be calm with a human, and can have an ongoing, friendly relationship.  Remember that because he is a stallion, Nelson lives alone, apart from other horses, in his big field.

Being able to work this way is a luxury, I understand.  Sometimes, things have to happen faster.  But that is not the way that I want to work with him, or any horse for that matter. Or my children.  Or myself.  More being, less doing across the board.