I M Perfect lady

While reading Martha Beck's book, "Finding Your Way in a Wild New World," she writes about her experience with learning to lead horses.  I felt immediately that this is the same technique great leaders use.

"Horseplay and the Technology of Oneness"

"If I wanted to, I could see the little palomino by looking at the top of my own shoulder, picking her up in my peripheral vision. But instea I just let my eyes drink in the scenery: the rolling California hills, dappled light falling through the clouds, a truck parked nearby. Everything, including the truck seems equally beautiful and equally alive.  At this moment the palomino is neither more or less important to me than the sky."

"To say that I haven't spent my entire afternoon in this state of serene detachment is like saying that the Three Stooges were not neurosurgeons. For what feels like hours, I've been pursuing a herd of two-year old colts in weird slow motion.  I amble up to them in arcs. They wait until I get close then nervously move to a different part of the field, whereupon I doggedly start amble-arcing toward them again.  My instructors have told me that striding up to them in a straight line could scare them off for good.  My goal is to serpentine, calmly but relentlessly."

"Amble, Arc. Arc, amble."

"Oops. There they go again."

"I keep thinking of that joke about the turtle who's mugged by two snails and later tells the police, "I am sorry, I can't remember much.  It all happened so fast!" Perhaps it was unwise to relinquish my afternoon and good sense to the renowed horse whisperer Monty Roberts and his protege, Koell Simpson. I've just met both of them (never suspecting that I'll later spend some of the best days of my life watching Koell "whisper" zebras and elephants).  Monty kindly invited me to his farm after I mentioned his horse training method in a magazine article.  He and Koell have brought me out here to this lush pasture and are now standing by the fence calling instructions and encouragement."

"Keep arcing!" they say. "A little faster – no not that fast! Watch out for – well, that's okay.  Manure is easy to slip in.  Don't worry, they haven't gone far. Just get up and start over."

"My ears burn with shame.  Theoretically I'm learning to behave like a strong, determined horse leader, mimicking the gestures, positioning, and energy of a "matriarch mare." (Horse herds are led by experienced females, while the stallions bring up the rear, defending against predators and competing sperm donors.) Monty told me to focus my attention on the little palimino. If I approach her with just the right actions and attitude, she'll follow me of her own free will.  I've seen Monty and Koell do this with other horses. I believe it will work. But for me, learning horse communication is like trying to yodel in Latvain while undergoing dental surgery."

"Don't worry!" shouts Koell as the herd bolts yet again.  "You doing great!"

"Amble, amble, arc, arc, amble, amble, arc, arc. Buh-bye now."

"Why the damn palomino, anyway?  She's the jitteriest, least approachable horse in the herd.  They're domestic-born but not yet trained, and to me the palomino seems almost wild.  After an eternity of watching me amble, some of the other colts are so bored with me that I can walk right in between them, gently pushing them aside with my hands. But just when I get within arm's length of the palimino…"

"That's okay!" Monty says as the filly tosses her head and runs off accompanied by the entire herd. "Keep trying! You've almost got it!"

"Yeah, I wish."

"But then, about fifteen minutes later, by George, I get it."

"Maybe I'm so tired I slipped into Wordlessness, though this is before I've learned to value this state.  Maybe there's something in human DNA that clicks into equine communication during emergencies. ("A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!) All I know is that one moment the notion of the herd seems chaotic and random, and the next, everything is meaningful.  I don't need Monty and Koell to tell me why I'm ambling in arcs; I just feel that the horses like it better than the straight line approach."

"A subtle but absolutely clear awareness diffuses through my internal world, like dye coloring a glass of water.  It saturates my body, then flows beyond me to the palomino.  The moment it touches her, I know she'll let me touch her too. I arc up to her, hold out my hand, see her skin shudder, gently move away, move in again.  We both draw in a breath, exhale in unison. I lay my hand on her neck, brush off some dust and hay, scratch along the line of her mane. Then I arc away, walk a few yards and stop."

"No need to think."

"The California hills, the clouds, the light, the truck. Everything beautiful. Everything equal."

"I don't look behind me because I didn't need to; the palomino has already told me she's coming.  The stream of communication connecting us feels as real to me as a signed contract. So I expect to hear the little horse's footsteps drawing near.  Instead, confusingly, there's a strange rustling sound, like a cottonwood tree in the wind or a church congregation shifting in a quiet chapel."

"I feel a puff of warm, moist air on my right shoulder, and then, a moment later, the palomino's velvet nose. She's accepted me as a leader. She stands behind me radiating that sweet blend of power, guilelessness, humility, and trust that is particular to horses.  My eyes fill with tears. Though I've seen "join-ups" like this before, the moment is a miracle.  I can't imagine feeling anything quite so magical ever again."

"Until I feel a second nose, a second puff of warmth, this time in the center of my back. And then a third, on my left upper arm."

"Confused, I look at my shoulder to see, peripherally, what's going on behind me. (Turning and staring would tell the hourse to run) A warm buzz runs through my body and the hair prickles on my arms as I understand what that rustling noise was; not four hooves walking up to me, but sixty-four. The palomino is the matriarch mare of the herd. When she accepted me, so did all the others."

"I walk forward.  An entire herd of horses , of their own free will, walks with me.  I turn left. They turn left. I circle right. So do they.  I stop. They stop. That sweet horse energy fills my body so completely I seem to be seeing through their huge soft eyes, hearing through their fuzzy ears. The loveliness of the day blends seemlessly with their consciousness. There are infinite wonders out here in this pasture; the herd, the horse whisperers, the truck, every mouse and mosquito living in the grass, me."

"And there is only One."  Martha Beck

What I love about using this as a metaphor for being a mom, is that we truly have to be one with our children and let them move towards us.  Not to be demanding or bending their will.  To do what we do as a strong leader and let them decide if it something they want to be part of.

It is very hard, when you do have a child like the willful palomino who isn't easily swayed. It is then, you have to remain doing what you do, most steadfast.

The way the leader Arcs and Ambles is so perfect…and it leaves us open to do be authentically our self.  If my children some day stand behind me…it will be of their own free will.

It has been the hardest thing I have ever done is to let them make their own choices, especially knowing my history and theirs. To 'allow' them to move in and around people I have separated from.  Knowing, they could find a leader (a lifestyle) there and turn their backs on me. It is a gamble I had no choice in making.

Meanwhile, I amble, arc…arc and amble, slip in messes and get back up.  I arc and amble. My goal is to serpentine, calmly but relentlessly…

Relentessly I have down, calmly is where I slip up.  

What I keep forgetting to remember is the faith that it is out of my hands. The join up is not up to me, but up to them.  It is their free will to be with me or not.  

My join up is out of the ordinary circles of whence I came.  I am in a whole new pasture…in a field beyond the right and wrong doing….I will meet you there. (Rumi)