18 June 2022
A horse that I approach with my hand outstretched turns her head away. I’m standing next to the gelding and he lays his head on my shoulder. I’m trying to take a tick from the skin and an impatient tail hits my hand. All three clear examples of communication that I register and understand.
Horses communicate with their bodies, with sound, with their ears and tails. On a more subtle level their eyes and lips show how they are feeling. These are all forms of communication that I have learned to see and to a large extent understand.
And then there is the intuitive communication. Walking with a horse in the direction of her field to bring her back in, and suddenly hearing the words “we could also continue walking”. Or the moment when there is a sudden very clear knowing. Or one evening I tell the horses I will take them out for a walk from the lower exit of the field the next day, and in the morning they’re all waiting for me at that exit. Or I walk with a horse and suddenly feel her tensing beside me. Her head is high and she looks intently at a spot in front of us. At the same time I see an image of a beach ball. And then I realize we’re approaching the spot where earlier I had brought a beach ball for the horses to investigate. They all found it very spooky. She now remembered the ball and I received an image of it. This is the kind of communication that fascinates me. Because of the communication itself, but also because it requires an openness, curiosity and quietness of mind that is such a lovely state to be in.
I followed a few courses and read books on animal communication. And I find it incredibly difficult. Very often I feel nothing, know nothing and only hear my mind chattering. Sometimes I receive information, but then I doubt whether it is from the animal or that my mind made it up. I have been told I try too hard, that I want so much to hear something that my focus is standing in the way of being able to receive. Yes, that sounds like me. Working so hard to make something happen that it cannot enter my experience by itself. So much control.
There is constant communication going on in nature, as in the human world. All living creatures sensing and sending out energies in the infinite field of awareness. We as humans are born with the capacity to hear and understand all this, but while growing up we loose this capacity. Sometimes a horse stands looking at me intently, even coming closer as if to emphasize she has something to say. I feel so helpless when I can’t understand what’s going on.
But there are encouraging small steps. I am getting more sensitive to the small signs, allowing openness and not-knowing to be there, feeling the joy of connection. And I see the animals responding. Relaxing and softening in my presence, coming to be with me. Trusting me.
While I was writing Jenna our lead mare came to stand behind me, at rest. As if to back me up, support me while I was writing. I occasionally heard her sigh, and snort. When I had written the words ‘Trusting me’ I heard a deep sigh and she slowly moved away to graze. So I guess I’m done 