Month: April 2016

By Simone Froley

I remember being so small on her big white back, I remember being awed and a little afraid of the way she’d boss me around when I tried to tell her what to do. I remember the moment Joell said “there, now you understand her. Now you’ve got it!” She was smiling up at me from the other end of the lunge line. I remember not quite realizing what I had done differently…but now I know it must have been the subtle act of opening up to communication with this horse. She taught me my first lesson then, when I was seven. I learned how to listen.

Gigi demanded dialogue. Conversation in the subtle ways of horses…she was constantly asking why and was always testing the manner in which she had been asked.

Gigi was a person. A horse. A horse who was a person, a horse who’s character couldn’t help but be noticed. She made humans work for her respect. We couldn’t ever make the mistake of taking her compliance for granted. This was given to us as a gift only…sometimes too sparingly, and sometimes with such generosity that it was all we could do to not fall to our knees and bless the very ground under her hooves. I was taught that anger and impatience would never get me where I wanted to be.

I remember, one summer, how I had forgotten all this and how I remembered it again. We cantered in circles and circles and circles and, as it drew towards evening, I realized how truly the rider and the horse are equals: two parts that make a whole, which is somehow more than the sum of the two parts…telepathic in synchronicity, each new step taken with silent agreement and joy, graceful in the way that dancers are. Joell and Gigi together helped create the person I am. I discovered my strengths and weaknesses in those lessons.

Maybe I’m making it all up. After all, she was just a horse, and I’m just some girl who could imagine things. But I loved her. In the winter she’d get all fuzzy and white and muddy and grumpy. In the summer she became so muscular and sleek, with little brown freckles. Her tail was always tinged yellow. Gigi hated taking baths and for some reason I took it upon myself to accomplish the nigh impossible task of bathing her. We used a lot of water and a lot of soap and way too much conditioner. We always accomplished the baths in one piece…well, my leather riding boots never did, and Ialways looked like I had been hosed down too, but something in my refusal to be intimidated by her granted me her slightly grudging agreement to become clean. We were on the same team.

Gigi helped me grow up, and in doing that, I believe she will always be a part of me. She never gave up, never gave in, until it was the right time. When I heard that she was so sick the first time and had to go to the hospital in Davis, I felt jarred, the whole thing felt wrong. Gigi never gives up. And she didn’t. I came to the ranch and stood at her stall and sobbed over her and she was all skinny and sick but she patiently stood there and rubbed her face against my shirt and I cried until my shirt was covered in little tiny white hairs and it was all okay again.
I will always remember her. Thank you, Joell, for sharing your horse with me. Thank you for allowing us to have that relationship, for understanding her and using your great knowledge to help me and so many others reach our higher potentials…to grow and become the people we want to be.

…..Peace and kindness are contagious but must be cultivated.

This week, I pushed a student past her limit and she hit an anxiety wall.

It wasn’t the end of the world.  This student is unusually forgiving.  Mom was pleased  I’d had the temerity to push her daughter past her comfort zone.  The daughter was able to laugh about the incident and all was forgiven.

But the whole thing stayed with me:  What was my intent in pushing this anxious child?

When training a horse if your intent is pure, the horse will forgive your mistakes. But if you come to the horse in fear or ego, there is no joy for either of you, even if the move is perfect.

Earning a child’s trust comports moral responsibility – this increases exponentially when the child has special needs. Only when you earn trust can you challenge the student to push boundaries and explore new skills and interests. At the end of the day – the motivation must come from inside the student for that skill to have  lasting effect or real meaning.

So – what is the value of an education foisted on a child?

Enter; moral ambiguity.

On one hand – education drives our society forward.  Education battles ignorance.  The pen is mightier than the sword and the information super networks have made our planet a community like never before. But our education systems are not designed to teach the values that make life worth living;  joy, curiosity, community and compassion.

Even that’s not true.  I attended a high school’s science fair last week and the kids were smarter,  better integrated, more tolerant and just plain nicer than my generation. Education has made  great strides in innovation, embracing different learning styles, and encouraging curiosity.

While riding my horse in the sunshine, his powerful back swinging freely creating oxytocin in my overworked and sore body, I started to untangle the role Square Peg plays in this giant education question. I had a feeling as l rode, it started to gel when I wrapped my arms around his muscular neck thanking him for a brilliant ride. I took my saddle off his warm back and this statement flowed out: Peace and kindness are contagious but must be cultivated.

Square Peg’s overarching purpose is to cultivate peace and kindness any way we can.

If it’s taking a dreamy child for a ride in the kayak to tell stories while floating in the pond – or in making the time to listen to a worried parent fresh from the latest IEP or in teaching a young man working with a jumpy young horse that his kindness and patience are strengths – not weaknesses.  It’s putting a guinea pig into a baby sling and placing it on the heart of a child while she rides a horse fully 20 times her size. This is how we cultivate kindness and peace radiate them into the world.

Registering our intention as an organization means we can forgive ourselves and others for mistakes.

The Sufi poet Hafiz wrote: 

Oh how we love our beautiful rowdy prisoners….