THE POWER OF THE PAUSE
By: Judy Brightman, Australia
“Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.” Viktor Frankel
In the modern world we are so busy, so overloaded with information and overstimulated by noise, artificial light, and devices, we spend much of our lives unconsciously reacting. With our endless to-do lists, we will often complain of no time to be still, yet, paradoxically, when we do pause, we create space - and in that space is where we can find the key to the door that opens to more time, to infinite possibility. Though we may associate equines with speed, their presence can cause us to slow down. Meet three ponies, small in stature yet expansive in spirit, as they illustrate the power of the pause.
The Prince of Ponies - How Marcus taught me the art of slowing down to speed up
Once a champion show pony, Marcus came to me after his retirement having badly foundered in the past. Founder is extremely painful and potentially life-threatening for equines; the sensitive laminae in their hooves that hold the pedal bone in place, become inflamed and loosen, causing the bone to rotate and drop towards the sole. This condition requires intensive care and patience and not all will recover. As always, quality of life and pain management must be the critical criteria in decision making and management of those who suffer such serious conditions.
Marcus was the clearest communicator I have ever met. There was never any doubt as to how he felt - in himself, about others, about a situation. Marcus came closer to talking English out loud than any equine I have known. He became a profound teacher and the touchstone of my practice. Engaging with people on the ground, free in his paddock, or on the soft surface of the arena I had at the time, Marcus captured attention and hearts; his striking good looks, his penetrating gaze, his curiosity, and cheeky antics brought smiles, laughter, energy, and light. His presence was charismatic – and fun – and oh so alive! He inspired people to play! His life-force attracted and impacted all who shared space and time with him.
His timing was impeccable. Marcus knew the power of a pause. He would have an intentional movement or look, or so it seemed observing his interactions. Man did that pony know how to push buttons! Marcus had the ability to bring awareness to many unconscious patterns, behaviors, and beliefs that people held. One of the most powerful things he taught me was the power of the pause, to slow down to speed up.
As Marcus aged his front hooves deteriorated, exacerbated by the development of Equine Cushing’s Disease[1]. On soft ground he did OK, but on ground hardened by hot sun and drought, he needed to wear therapy boots that provided padding and support. The boots had to come off at least once daily for cleaning, treatment of his hooves and airing. Marcus didn’t enjoy having his hooves treated and with the frequency, he got fed up and sometimes resisted. Anyone who has tried to lift a hoof when the horse or pony doesn’t want to, understands how, even a pony as light and fine-boned as Marcus, can plant themselves in the ground! There were times when I got frustrated with this, telling Marcus through gritted teeth that I had to be somewhere, or had to do something, and didn’t have time for messing about! Marcus would give me an intentional look, blow out, then look away. Sometimes he even moved away, so I had to pick up the pots of medication, gel, powder or whatever was needed topically on his hooves, plus the boots and go after him. One thing was certain, if I got frustrated, impatient or was just in too much of a hurry, Marcus would make sure it took longer!
However, when I slowed down, when I breathed deeply and consciously and became grounded and present, focused on the energy between us, kept tension out of my body and moved as if I had all the time in the world, Marcus lifted his hoof straight away in cooperation.
Getting curious about making the task easier for him, I started to pause just as I was about to pick up the hoof, to tune into his energy, the subtle shifts in the leg I was next to, to feel for the precise time that would make lifting the hoof a more effortless action, when his body fully supported it. I learned to rock my own body slightly side to side to help create the same energy in him to aid this. Marcus’s actions and reactions confirmed the benefit of this slowing and tuning in. Like dancers, the task became seemingly effortless and more graceful when our energy, intentions and bodies were aligned.
This continued in refinement and as it got harder for Marcus, as his pedal bone started to crumble and we neared the time for his transition, our daily dance remained harmonious and mindful, making it possible to keep him comfortable to the end.
The Queen of Hearts - How Phoebe showed me to be still enough for insight to emerge
Phoebe is a black Shetland pony. She has been working with humans in an equine assisted learning practice for many years since she was rescued from neglect and adopted by a special human. In the early years of my exploration of this way of being with, and learning from, horses, I had the privilege of working with Phoebe and witnessing her ability to hold the space for people to have profound insights. Shetland ponies are about as small as ponies get; Phoebe is about 40 inches/100 cms at her wither, where the neck meets the back. Like many small ponies it seems her heart and her presence are huge.
Practicing facilitating an exercise with a fellow student, I was to be the client and was on my way to fetch a horse when Phoebe came trotting briskly down the hill and entered the small, fenced area we were to work in. She stood still, looking at me. We laughed. “Looks like Phoebe has a message for you” my colleague said.
In I went. This was an active exercise in which I was to ask the horse to walk, then to quicken to a trot, then slow, turn and repeat in the opposite direction. It is an exercise done at liberty, through being grounded, mindful and aligning your attention and intention to connect with and direct the horse, not using tools or physical manipulation, just clear, congruent body language.
I spent some moments connecting with Phoebe, attuning to her energy, her breath, from a heart centered space. Then I asked her to walk on, which she did. When we had a good feeling and rhythm, I asked her if she could quicken the pace. No. Phoebe stopped and turned her head to me. I asked her to walk again. No. I spent some time breathing: deep inhales, longer exhales, then just even breaths, felt my feet in my boots, more consciously connect with the earth and asked her to walk again. OK. Again, after a few strides, I asked her to quicken. No. Again, a dead halt and a swing of her head towards me. “What are you experiencing?” my colleague asked. I wasn’t sure. I felt some mild frustration and breathed with that and let it go. “I know you have done this hundreds of times,” said my fellow student. She wondered what was stopping me, what was getting in the way. I didn’t know. I stood there looking at Phoebe who stood looking at me, unblinkingly, unflinchingly, for what seemed a very long time. Suddenly, images and sensations started to bubble up within me. What is the message behind this I wondered? Aha! “It feels like I’m bullying her” I blurted out. Phoebe sighed, turned her head straight, started to lick and chew. “It’s her size. I am so rarely this much bigger – it reminds me of when I was pushed around by the police in apartheid ruled South Africa, where I went to university. It was such a brutal, dominating regime,” I told my colleague. Re-centering, taking breaths and shaking off the images, replacing them with a vision of Phoebe and I moving in harmony, I asked Phoebe to walk, then trot, which she happily did, then turned and did it again to the right. When I asked her to stop, she did. Then she turned and walked to me, pushed her muzzle into my heart, and stood quietly breathing with me as I thanked her for gifting me the lesson of staying quietly with discomfort, silent and still, to allow insight to emerge.
Phoebe is a black Shetland pony. She has been working with humans in an equine assisted learning practice for many years since she was rescued from neglect and adopted by a special human. In the early years of my exploration of this way of being with, and learning from, horses, I had the privilege of working with Phoebe and witnessing her ability to hold the space for people to have profound insights. Shetland ponies are about as small as ponies get; Phoebe is about 40 inches/100 cms at her wither, where the neck meets the back. Like many small ponies it seems her heart and her presence are huge.
Practicing facilitating an exercise with a fellow student, I was to be the client and was on my way to fetch a horse when Phoebe came trotting briskly down the hill and entered the small, fenced area we were to work in. She stood still, looking at me. We laughed. “Looks like Phoebe has a message for you” my colleague said.
In I went. This was an active exercise in which I was to ask the horse to walk, then to quicken to a trot, then slow, turn and repeat in the opposite direction. It is an exercise done at liberty, through being grounded, mindful and aligning your attention and intention to connect with and direct the horse, not using tools or physical manipulation, just clear, congruent body language.
I spent some moments connecting with Phoebe, attuning to her energy, her breath, from a heart centered space. Then I asked her to walk on, which she did. When we had a good feeling and rhythm, I asked her if she could quicken the pace. No. Phoebe stopped and turned her head to me. I asked her to walk again. No. I spent some time breathing: deep inhales, longer exhales, then just even breaths, felt my feet in my boots, more consciously connect with the earth and asked her to walk again. OK. Again, after a few strides, I asked her to quicken. No. Again, a dead halt and a swing of her head towards me. “What are you experiencing?” my colleague asked. I wasn’t sure. I felt some mild frustration and breathed with that and let it go. “I know you have done this hundreds of times,” said my fellow student. She wondered what was stopping me, what was getting in the way. I didn’t know. I stood there looking at Phoebe who stood looking at me, unblinkingly, unflinchingly, for what seemed a very long time. Suddenly, images and sensations started to bubble up within me. What is the message behind this I wondered? Aha! “It feels like I’m bullying her” I blurted out. Phoebe sighed, turned her head straight, started to lick and chew. “It’s her size. I am so rarely this much bigger – it reminds me of when I was pushed around by the police in apartheid ruled South Africa, where I went to university. It was such a brutal, dominating regime,” I told my colleague. Re-centering, taking breaths and shaking off the images, replacing them with a vision of Phoebe and I moving in harmony, I asked Phoebe to walk, then trot, which she happily did, then turned and did it again to the right. When I asked her to stop, she did. Then she turned and walked to me, pushed her muzzle into my heart, and stood quietly breathing with me as I thanked her for gifting me the lesson of staying quietly with discomfort, silent and still, to allow insight to emerge.
The Art of Alignment - How Jaz helped a young boy step into his power
The prettiest of Welsh ponies with flaxen mane and tail, Jaz exuded being comfortably and confidently embodied. The angelic looking small boy grooming her was being bullied at school. He stood close to Jaz, small and divine-looking herself, whispering as he rhythmically brushed her mane. He had immediately been drawn to her when he first came to visit. Each session he had grown in his confidence in grooming her, taking her for a walk, and practicing somatic techniques to help him ground, center and be “mountain solid, Jaz solid” while aware of self, other and the environment. Creating an energetic bubble and shield around himself, we practiced softening and strengthening the shield with each other and Jaz. Aligning attention and intention, heart, and head, he discovered how he and Jaz could move together, toward, and away from each other.
On this day, as he was proudly walking alongside Jaz in the paddock, Marcus, Jaz’s closest pony friend, headed towards them as if to break them up, to cut through. As I headed closer in case help was needed, the boy slowed, paused, breathed deeply and then took on a strong, determined posture and moved a raised arm out firmly toward Marcus. The boy held his hand like a traffic controller – No! Marcus blinked and veered off toward me. The boy continued his path with Jaz, not looking back at Marcus, confident that he and Jaz had this, together – attuned and aligned.
Jaz, a pony so comfortable in herself, would not be pushed around. Her presence and the power of the pause to choose to regroup and choose a response taught this small boy to stand tall.
“Music is the space between the notes.” Claude Debussy
People often assume ponies will be pushed about by bigger horses but that is rarely the case. Our stories and assumptions can be so wrong. Yet we can carry these – or the patterns conditioned by our families, culture, society - around with us, shaping our relationships to others and life events. Big hearted ponies and learning to pause to create space, so we do not just react to a stimulus, can help us find growth and freedom, as per the quote ascribed to Viktor Frankel at the beginning of this article. When we momentarily slow down, we can engage our breath, our sensations, and our feelings, to become more aware. From this space we can choose a response aligned with our values, our visions, our own unique music.
In these pony tales, I hope the insights gifted by Marcus, Phoebe and Jaz cause you to pause, to lick and chew, to choose how you want to show up in the world, to choose freedom from the reactive states that cause us so much discordance, to play your own music - find the space between the notes, maybe seek out a pony, to write a new song. ~*~
The prettiest of Welsh ponies with flaxen mane and tail, Jaz exuded being comfortably and confidently embodied. The angelic looking small boy grooming her was being bullied at school. He stood close to Jaz, small and divine-looking herself, whispering as he rhythmically brushed her mane. He had immediately been drawn to her when he first came to visit. Each session he had grown in his confidence in grooming her, taking her for a walk, and practicing somatic techniques to help him ground, center and be “mountain solid, Jaz solid” while aware of self, other and the environment. Creating an energetic bubble and shield around himself, we practiced softening and strengthening the shield with each other and Jaz. Aligning attention and intention, heart, and head, he discovered how he and Jaz could move together, toward, and away from each other.
On this day, as he was proudly walking alongside Jaz in the paddock, Marcus, Jaz’s closest pony friend, headed towards them as if to break them up, to cut through. As I headed closer in case help was needed, the boy slowed, paused, breathed deeply and then took on a strong, determined posture and moved a raised arm out firmly toward Marcus. The boy held his hand like a traffic controller – No! Marcus blinked and veered off toward me. The boy continued his path with Jaz, not looking back at Marcus, confident that he and Jaz had this, together – attuned and aligned.
Jaz, a pony so comfortable in herself, would not be pushed around. Her presence and the power of the pause to choose to regroup and choose a response taught this small boy to stand tall.
“Music is the space between the notes.” Claude Debussy
People often assume ponies will be pushed about by bigger horses but that is rarely the case. Our stories and assumptions can be so wrong. Yet we can carry these – or the patterns conditioned by our families, culture, society - around with us, shaping our relationships to others and life events. Big hearted ponies and learning to pause to create space, so we do not just react to a stimulus, can help us find growth and freedom, as per the quote ascribed to Viktor Frankel at the beginning of this article. When we momentarily slow down, we can engage our breath, our sensations, and our feelings, to become more aware. From this space we can choose a response aligned with our values, our visions, our own unique music.
In these pony tales, I hope the insights gifted by Marcus, Phoebe and Jaz cause you to pause, to lick and chew, to choose how you want to show up in the world, to choose freedom from the reactive states that cause us so much discordance, to play your own music - find the space between the notes, maybe seek out a pony, to write a new song. ~*~
