Month: July 2016

In the circus that is my life, I found myself at my California dinner table sipping wine and eating chocolate with two world class horsemen – one from the famed halls of the Spanish Riding School in Vienna and the other an Argentine polo player who has played green fields from the sands of Brunei, to the vast stretches of Patagonia, over the cool fields of England…..

We talked of travel, and landscapes and weather. Mostly we talked of horses. It dawned on me as I watched these gentle men, both with hair streaked with gray, calluses on their hands and sun creases on their handsome faces that both had been brought up preserving the critical art of training a horse for war.

Both Classical Dressage and polo are dignified exhibitions of mounted soldiers practicing to defend their communities or attack others in the search for resources.

Christian is a specialist in the Airs Above The Ground – the ancient jumps and kicks that could kill a foot soldier and strike fear in entire regiments. Enrique’s beloved polo is a classic game of defending territory as a regiment and scoring wins.  There’s tell of stories that the game was developed using the heads of enemies.

As we know, mounted war is a thing mostly of the past nowadays.  High powered guns, tanks and now drones have replaced the awesome swift fierceness of a mounted military.

Both men are master teachers.  This is extremely rare – to be able to teach both horses and humans.  But I watched both tell stories of riders who blame the horse or are eager to replace the horse to get to their goals more quickly.  I sit and breathe in their wisdom as they pound the table, leaning in to express that it takes years to train, not months or a seminar or a new bit. Despite the fact that their disciplines are vastly different, the breeds they prefer don’t match at all – they are of one mind that patience and a quiet mind are what train a horse.

The Spanish Riding School prances to delight crowds with their famed white stallions while polo is played in wealthy neighborhoods as spectators sip champagne and critique other attendees’ fashion choices.

If you saw either of these men ride and train horses – you would understand that it is an art. What then, is the future of these arts?

I’d like to believe that the ancient art of teaching a horse to carry us to war is now helpful in healing our souls.

By training a horse in soft collection – in understanding and the horse using his body to effortlessly carry us in harmony and in bravery – the horse connects us our selves through our dis-regulated senses. As this giant prey animal lends us his grace and beauty we rediscover our self worth and we take that generosity back out to our technology laden world. These masters show us through our horses that patience, clarity, humility and the ability to be fully present are the tools we need most.

The matron in me wants to keep them at my table – to feed them well and make them safe from having to teach people who will wear them out in their quests for an easy fix or needing to look a tormented horse in the eye and do what they can to help. That’s not possible of course and I sent them both off with a hug to their next teaching gigs – hopefully imbued with renewed spirits in finding soulmates in their relentless pursuit of equestrian art mastery.

As for me?  I’m relishing every memory of connecting these Masters at my table and more importantly in the arena where they both served Square Peg horses and staff with wisdom and love.

Lucky – lucky me.

The character of the human, too, will find its expression in the training and performance of the horse.

The level-headed one becomes a master, the inspired one an artist, the correct one a controller, the violent one a subduer, the crafty one a conman. The faint-hearted one makes compromises, the timid one capitulates, the hot-tempered one becomes unfair, the malicious one a torturer, the melancholy one a trifler. The hasty one becomes frustrated, the impatient one becomes unhappy, the fool becomes complacent, the snob becomes a more or less happy boaster on his horse. The prudent one remains a student forever, even if he is a master; the sage, however, …?

The sage in the saddle is rarely encountered. He is recognizable by his extreme modesty, because he knows that no-one can solve all the riddles the horse presents to us – life is too short.”

(Udo Bürger, 1959)

What if I told you that every one of us has the knowledge, the training, the skills and the opportunity to relieve the world’s most crippling affliction?

This terrible condition is 100% treatable and reversible.  It won’t require insurance coverage, legislation, staff meetings, specialists or any equipment.

You think I’m lying or exaggerating.

My argument isn’t supported with charts and graphs.  I don’t have an advanced degree…..in anything. There’s no reason to listen to me.

Except.

What if I’m right?

In 2004, we started a non profit coupling outsider kids with failed and injured ex racehorses.  The plan was that in taking care of each other – both would receive benefits.

It worked.  We served homeless kids, trafficked kids, tough kids, shy kids, gay kids.  There was connection to be sure.

But it was autism families, that kept finding us.

I told parents we weren’t  therapists and each time, the parents exhaled and smiled. They had therapists. What they needed was one of two things:

A break from the everyday circus of treatment, advice and tantrums.

The possibility of a miracle.

So I started to study.  Obsessively. I fan-girled Dr. Temple Grandin each time she did a talk. I read her books, the books by John Elder Robinson and more.  I subscribed to tons of blogs by parents and scientists. All the while we did the work as scores of families made their way to Square Peg Ranch.

In 2009, I hit a wall.  I was exhausted. Each week, I worked 70 hours for no pay.  There was just enough money to cover the feed and one person to help.  Managing volunteers, turning down horses needing homes, dealing with leases and landlords and looking up to see waves of autism families desperate for miracles or at least a break took it’s toll.   

I was trying to make a “real difference.”  As a teen, I dreamed of traveling the world, picking up the starving babies off the streets and feeding them.  Instead, I was teaching HORSEBACK RIDING – an outdated, dangerous useless activity often associated with the white, landed gentry. 

How was that going to change the world? 

With 120,000 American horses going to slaughter plants every year, we could take in less than a dozen. 

Was putting an autistic person on a horse even safe? 

These are the things that ran through my head during sleepless nights.

Two things happened.

1. My board treasurer – a wise autism mom, sent me to southern California to do a training with an autism dad who made a documentary film and wrote a book about how his son connected to him and his world through horses. I didn’t want to go. I had it pegged as new age inspiration porn. I didn’t have the time or patience for it. But I really needed a break and a trip to Southern California meant connecting with a dear friend – so I went.

Once there, I learned WHY what we were doing was working.  I learned why play and following the interest of the autistic person was important and WHY setting up an environment where both the horses and the families felt calm was more important than traditional therapeutic riding exercises.  I asked him what I should do when parents interrupt the session or talk over the top of the instructor. The father who adored his autistic son answered me not as a clinician or as a horseman but as a parent of an autistic child.  He made it crystal clear that serving the FAMILY and trusting the FAMILY about how best to serve an autistic student was the KEY to what we were doing. I needed to turn my thinking upside down. The long drive home gave me a chance to ponder this and realize how rare and vital it was.

2. As I continued to beat myself up about what my role in life would be – I started studying the people I most admired. I wanted to understand the motivation and the skills of the people who were making real social change. Early in my research I found a quote from a true hero serving the poorest of the poor. It changed my  perspective. It changed my life.

The greatest poverty is not hunger.  The greatest poverty is loneliness and a feeling of not being useful.” Mother Teresa of Calcutta.

Loneliness. It’s in our neighborhoods, our schools, our churches, even our families.  We can pick up the phone, reach out a hand, smile with eye contact, or forgive someone in our lives right now.

Check in, send a card, introduce yourself, knock on the door, extend an invitation.  Force yourself to listen to understand, not listen to respond.

Feeling lonely yourself?  Think of someone more shut-in than you are and visit.  You won’t have to think long. I promise.

The other day at the ranch, an autism mom acted to save her child from injury (not on a horse).  She responded bravely and selflessly. She was injured in her heroic act and we attended to her injury while attending to her son. Her child was triggered by the event and started screaming.  His high pitched screaming pained the mother deeply as it brought up every insecurity that her son would not be able to make friends and exist in a world where she wasn’t constantly supporting him.  You could see on her face that felt she needed to “pull it together” and ignore her injury to attend to her child.  She started to panic that we might make her go to the emergency room which would send her autistic son into total sensory overload and more screaming.  She felt completely alone and isolated.

With the help of a snack and a drink, he calmed down.  We attended to her injuries, drove her son home and then took her to the hospital.  Luckily, her injuries were not severe.  In their time of need, we were able to support her as a community – to attend to her son’s important and essential emotional needs and to let her know that she was connected, needed and not alone.

So here it is – your antidote to all the bad news in the world. News that the world’s greatest poverty is 100% treatable.  Every one of us has the skills, the training and the opportunity to cure it.

We all need some good news lately. As Scoop Nisker used to say “if you don’t like the news – go out and make some of your own.”