THE FELT SENSE OF NURTURING
By: Patrycja Linden and Tori Poe, Canada
Dive deep into Patrycja’s inner world as she awakens parts of her ‘felt sense’ among a cohesive herd of eight horses. Follow Tori holding the space as witness, inviting, and allowing the connections to unfold. Join Patrycja and Tori in the weaving of this embodied narrative dance among the herd.
Q
My Story of Seeking out the Horse
Communing with Tori and the herd twice per month, I became acquainted with the ‘felt sense’. The profundity and magic of awakening to the ‘felt sense’ of connection, nurturing, and belonging inspired me to keep a journal. I documented each encounter with the herd, wanting to deepen the somatic imprint of never-before-felt sensations and to acknowledge and reflect on the relationship I was developing with each horse. For months prior to meeting Tori and the herd, I had been exploring the idea of writing. My journey through healing with the herd, and a newfound awe of how horses can impact a human being’s internal and consequently external world, led me to collaborate with Tori on a written piece to submit to a publication, sharing three specific horse experiences.
I have ridden a horse several times, but these magnificent animals were mostly present in my life by accompanying one of my siblings to their riding lessons or amateur competitions. You could say that I had always admired horses, but from a distance. I had an awareness of the magic of horses from a beloved film from childhood, The Black Stallion. The unique bond and love between horse and boy, who had both been shipwrecked, was a welcome comfort in my very turbulent childhood.
Several years ago, distressing events caused my childhood traumas to surface and wreak havoc in my adult life. My sense of self imploded and with it any feeling of safety in the world. After receiving a diagnosis of Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (C-PTSD), I embarked on the arduous journey of trauma healing. I learned that C-PTSD can only be healed in relationship, through safe connection, with touch being a key component of repatterning early childhood trauma. Not feeling completely safe in the presence of people, let alone being touched, I needed to find a way to receive co-regulation from a safe sentient being. I researched equine therapy and found Tori, who combines Equine Facilitated Counselling (EFC) with Somatic Experiencing® (SE). ~ Patrycja
Communing with Tori and the herd twice per month, I became acquainted with the ‘felt sense’. The profundity and magic of awakening to the ‘felt sense’ of connection, nurturing, and belonging inspired me to keep a journal. I documented each encounter with the herd, wanting to deepen the somatic imprint of never-before-felt sensations and to acknowledge and reflect on the relationship I was developing with each horse. For months prior to meeting Tori and the herd, I had been exploring the idea of writing. My journey through healing with the herd, and a newfound awe of how horses can impact a human being’s internal and consequently external world, led me to collaborate with Tori on a written piece to submit to a publication, sharing three specific horse experiences.
I have ridden a horse several times, but these magnificent animals were mostly present in my life by accompanying one of my siblings to their riding lessons or amateur competitions. You could say that I had always admired horses, but from a distance. I had an awareness of the magic of horses from a beloved film from childhood, The Black Stallion. The unique bond and love between horse and boy, who had both been shipwrecked, was a welcome comfort in my very turbulent childhood.
Several years ago, distressing events caused my childhood traumas to surface and wreak havoc in my adult life. My sense of self imploded and with it any feeling of safety in the world. After receiving a diagnosis of Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (C-PTSD), I embarked on the arduous journey of trauma healing. I learned that C-PTSD can only be healed in relationship, through safe connection, with touch being a key component of repatterning early childhood trauma. Not feeling completely safe in the presence of people, let alone being touched, I needed to find a way to receive co-regulation from a safe sentient being. I researched equine therapy and found Tori, who combines Equine Facilitated Counselling (EFC) with Somatic Experiencing® (SE). ~ Patrycja
What is the Felt Sense & Why does it matter?
The ‘felt sense’ is a term referenced in trauma resolution modalities such as Somatic Experiencing®, created by Dr. Peter Levine. In his book, Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma (1997), Levine writes “…to heal trauma, we must be able to identify and employ the indicators of trauma that are made available through the felt sense”.
In scientific terms, the ‘felt sense’ refers to interoception, an awareness and assessment of one’s internal physiological processes such as the heart rate, digestion, and other sensations in our bodies. Based on this internal information we “…take action, make meaning, make predictions ……and make judgements about who we are and how we are – are we hungry, are we safe, are we loved?”[1](Kain and Terrell, 2018).
Throughout the seasons, as an Equine Facilitated Counselling practitioner, I have supported Patrycja to develop her awareness of the body knowing (somatic) sensations, the interior milieu and her passion for writing. In the presence of the horses, I witnessed Patrycja’s discernment of discomfort/comfort, fear/excitement, disconnection/connection, disappointment/pleasure, danger/safety, and other emotional sensations. During the fall, through the cold winter months, into the rebirth of spring and summer green pastures, the herd and I have been with her to feel into a caring and nurturing space.
~Tori
The ‘felt sense’ is a term referenced in trauma resolution modalities such as Somatic Experiencing®, created by Dr. Peter Levine. In his book, Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma (1997), Levine writes “…to heal trauma, we must be able to identify and employ the indicators of trauma that are made available through the felt sense”.
In scientific terms, the ‘felt sense’ refers to interoception, an awareness and assessment of one’s internal physiological processes such as the heart rate, digestion, and other sensations in our bodies. Based on this internal information we “…take action, make meaning, make predictions ……and make judgements about who we are and how we are – are we hungry, are we safe, are we loved?”[1](Kain and Terrell, 2018).
Throughout the seasons, as an Equine Facilitated Counselling practitioner, I have supported Patrycja to develop her awareness of the body knowing (somatic) sensations, the interior milieu and her passion for writing. In the presence of the horses, I witnessed Patrycja’s discernment of discomfort/comfort, fear/excitement, disconnection/connection, disappointment/pleasure, danger/safety, and other emotional sensations. During the fall, through the cold winter months, into the rebirth of spring and summer green pastures, the herd and I have been with her to feel into a caring and nurturing space.
~Tori
Max
Meeting the Herd, Meeting Q and Max
My first equine session took place at the beginning of fall. Tori invited me into the barn and asked me to look around and see what I noticed. I saw three horses, two on my left and one on my right. Each horse was in its stall, but they all stood facing in our direction. Tori asked which one of the three horses in their stalls I would like to meet. I was drawn to the white horse, a mare named Q. Tori and I sat on chairs facing Q’s stall and began a practice of settling into our bodies, noticing our feet touching the ground, our seat, and our breath.
Suddenly, Q advanced, her head lined up with me, looking directly at me with her left eye. A big, black, round eye. There was something about the roundness and softness of her eye that felt like her seeing deep into me. A calm, steady and unwavering presence. An eye that truly saw me, in my totality. Suddenly, I sensed a trembling in my sternum, followed by a deep cry, with the words, “Why didn’t anyone love me?” Sitting next to me, Tori repeated, “Why didn’t anyone love me?” Her stoic prosody, gave credence to my lived experience, and honoured the wisdom that came up from deep within me, thanks to Q.
The second horse I connected with that day was Max, a white pink skinned, Appaloosa, robustly built gelding, one of the two biggest horses in the herd. Tori and I had walked out into the paddock, to observe the members of the herd who had gathered just outside the stable. She asked me to tap into my body and see if I had a sense of which horse I would like to meet.
Max piqued my curiosity and Tori suggested I line up with his torso and notice if I feel any energy emanating from him. I did, and to my surprise, Max turned his body towards us and eventually walked right up to me. I noticed that I felt no fear in my body when being approached by this large and imposing being. He had a strong but slow energy about him. Max greeted me briefly and proceeded to walk past me, missing my shoulder by an inch or so. I was taken aback that this giant being was respectful of my physical boundary. Meeting Max was a thrilling experience, and I knew that I wanted to spend as much time as possible around him. ~ Patrycja
The first session is much about exploring or deepening our felt-sense awareness of proxemics, discovering where the space between people or the space between human and horses supports the mind-body connection to feel present. For a person’s first meeting with the herd and I, prior to anyone arriving, I sense which horses might be willing to be inside for the session and which horses would like to remain outside. Often the climate, time of day, and season influences the horses’ choices to be in stalls, outside under shelters or grazing in pastures. I do not know how the presence of the horses affect a person’s nervous system when meeting the herd members for the first time. Some people prefer to meet the horses inside or in a small sub-herd, one horse at a time, before they can immerse themselves in the presence of a whole herd. Some people prefer being outside, in the open space of nature, with the freedom to move from one horse to another.
Horses physically greet by breath, smelling, and touching of their long whiskers, vibrissae, used as sensory receptors. During this initial meeting inside the barn, herd member Q reached her head towards Patrycja responding with an affectionate, soft yet direct gaze. Afterwards, Patrycja wanted to proceed meeting the other herd members that were outside. Max came towards her, stood near, and when he walked close by, respected her personal space. As non-predatory animals, horses thrive by being part of a herd to survive. They excel at co-regulation and proxemics, sensing each other and responding to each other whether they are calmly grazing together facing the same direction or exuberantly running away in unison from an unknown movement in the woods. ~Tori
My first equine session took place at the beginning of fall. Tori invited me into the barn and asked me to look around and see what I noticed. I saw three horses, two on my left and one on my right. Each horse was in its stall, but they all stood facing in our direction. Tori asked which one of the three horses in their stalls I would like to meet. I was drawn to the white horse, a mare named Q. Tori and I sat on chairs facing Q’s stall and began a practice of settling into our bodies, noticing our feet touching the ground, our seat, and our breath.
Suddenly, Q advanced, her head lined up with me, looking directly at me with her left eye. A big, black, round eye. There was something about the roundness and softness of her eye that felt like her seeing deep into me. A calm, steady and unwavering presence. An eye that truly saw me, in my totality. Suddenly, I sensed a trembling in my sternum, followed by a deep cry, with the words, “Why didn’t anyone love me?” Sitting next to me, Tori repeated, “Why didn’t anyone love me?” Her stoic prosody, gave credence to my lived experience, and honoured the wisdom that came up from deep within me, thanks to Q.
The second horse I connected with that day was Max, a white pink skinned, Appaloosa, robustly built gelding, one of the two biggest horses in the herd. Tori and I had walked out into the paddock, to observe the members of the herd who had gathered just outside the stable. She asked me to tap into my body and see if I had a sense of which horse I would like to meet.
Max piqued my curiosity and Tori suggested I line up with his torso and notice if I feel any energy emanating from him. I did, and to my surprise, Max turned his body towards us and eventually walked right up to me. I noticed that I felt no fear in my body when being approached by this large and imposing being. He had a strong but slow energy about him. Max greeted me briefly and proceeded to walk past me, missing my shoulder by an inch or so. I was taken aback that this giant being was respectful of my physical boundary. Meeting Max was a thrilling experience, and I knew that I wanted to spend as much time as possible around him. ~ Patrycja
The first session is much about exploring or deepening our felt-sense awareness of proxemics, discovering where the space between people or the space between human and horses supports the mind-body connection to feel present. For a person’s first meeting with the herd and I, prior to anyone arriving, I sense which horses might be willing to be inside for the session and which horses would like to remain outside. Often the climate, time of day, and season influences the horses’ choices to be in stalls, outside under shelters or grazing in pastures. I do not know how the presence of the horses affect a person’s nervous system when meeting the herd members for the first time. Some people prefer to meet the horses inside or in a small sub-herd, one horse at a time, before they can immerse themselves in the presence of a whole herd. Some people prefer being outside, in the open space of nature, with the freedom to move from one horse to another.
Horses physically greet by breath, smelling, and touching of their long whiskers, vibrissae, used as sensory receptors. During this initial meeting inside the barn, herd member Q reached her head towards Patrycja responding with an affectionate, soft yet direct gaze. Afterwards, Patrycja wanted to proceed meeting the other herd members that were outside. Max came towards her, stood near, and when he walked close by, respected her personal space. As non-predatory animals, horses thrive by being part of a herd to survive. They excel at co-regulation and proxemics, sensing each other and responding to each other whether they are calmly grazing together facing the same direction or exuberantly running away in unison from an unknown movement in the woods. ~Tori
Curious Max: A big being seeking my proximity
I had no interactions with Max until winter, but I would always glance over his way, to see if I could connect with him. He didn’t seem inclined to interact with me, but on one occasion, while I was grooming another horse, Max poked his head into the stable to observe. He had an almost child-like curiosity about him, and from that day on, I started calling him Curious Max.
One cold day, Tori and I were seated on chairs in front of the stable, looking out into the paddock, observing the herd. We did our usual practice of landing in our bodies. Behind us stood Max, with his backside turned toward us. While looking out into the distance, I felt an impulse to turn my head to my right. Next to me, his head aligned with mine, stood Max.
I was surprised to find him next to me, not only because I hadn’t heard him move, but also because he chose to be close to me. I asked myself, “What could this big being possibly want from me? What could he possibly be gaining from being in such proximity to me, so deliberately? A being like THAT was wanting to be with ME? His face looked so soft, gentle, and sweet when being in MY presence. How could this be?!” Recalling this moment with Max, I feel a warm and soft energy in my knees – it’s an energy that has also shown up with other horses – it’s the felt sense of connection and nurturing.
~ Patrycja
I have witnessed horses and humans often seek comfort from each other, modeling co-regulation and attunement; a sense of harmony and calmness. Max is a large horse with smaller ears, and very soft pink skin prone to cuts and easily agitated by flies. He took a few months to fully integrate into the herd when he first arrived, taking his time to being physically close and among the other horses. His grand presence and his unique calm, gentle manner is compelling to people who first encounter him. However, he is also curious and intrigued by both his horse and human encounters and slowly he is building confidence to engage and build trust with others, outside of his protective stall. ~Tori
I had no interactions with Max until winter, but I would always glance over his way, to see if I could connect with him. He didn’t seem inclined to interact with me, but on one occasion, while I was grooming another horse, Max poked his head into the stable to observe. He had an almost child-like curiosity about him, and from that day on, I started calling him Curious Max.
One cold day, Tori and I were seated on chairs in front of the stable, looking out into the paddock, observing the herd. We did our usual practice of landing in our bodies. Behind us stood Max, with his backside turned toward us. While looking out into the distance, I felt an impulse to turn my head to my right. Next to me, his head aligned with mine, stood Max.
I was surprised to find him next to me, not only because I hadn’t heard him move, but also because he chose to be close to me. I asked myself, “What could this big being possibly want from me? What could he possibly be gaining from being in such proximity to me, so deliberately? A being like THAT was wanting to be with ME? His face looked so soft, gentle, and sweet when being in MY presence. How could this be?!” Recalling this moment with Max, I feel a warm and soft energy in my knees – it’s an energy that has also shown up with other horses – it’s the felt sense of connection and nurturing.
~ Patrycja
I have witnessed horses and humans often seek comfort from each other, modeling co-regulation and attunement; a sense of harmony and calmness. Max is a large horse with smaller ears, and very soft pink skin prone to cuts and easily agitated by flies. He took a few months to fully integrate into the herd when he first arrived, taking his time to being physically close and among the other horses. His grand presence and his unique calm, gentle manner is compelling to people who first encounter him. However, he is also curious and intrigued by both his horse and human encounters and slowly he is building confidence to engage and build trust with others, outside of his protective stall. ~Tori
Gracie
Gracie & The Reciprocity of Nurturing
Summer had arrived and along with it a new horse. Gracie, a bay mare, had been integrating into the herd during the couple of weeks between my sessions. During this time, I had had a difficult week of implicit memories, sensations of fear when in proximity to other human bodies. In Trauma and Memory: Brain and body in the search for the living past, Peter Levine (2015) defines implicit memories as, “…a collage of sensations, emotions, and behaviours. Implicit memories appear and disappear surreptitiously…They are primarily organized around emotions and/or skills, or “procedures” – things that the body does automatically….”
Arriving at the barn, I felt fear and a very uncomfortable surge of energy in my feet. My feet had an impulse to move and so I exited the barn and entered the paddock, to walk off the sensation in my feet. With the sensation in my feet now gone, I had an impulse to hide between safe bodies. Guided by Tori, I expressed my need by saying out loud, “I need safe bodies.” To my surprise, Q, the mare, who on my first day at the barn had seen so deeply into me and offered an unwavering presence, came, and stood next to me. I moved closer to her, smelled her skin, and embraced her. Once again, from the depth of my being came a cry, “I need a mother. I need a mother all to myself. It’s impossible without a mother.” I tried to take in the connection Q was so lovingly offering, but I felt nothing. I had shut down immediately, following this deep emotional expression, which once again showed the nurturing deficit I was carrying from my childhood. In addition to the shut down, I felt an emptiness in my stomach.
While this was happening, Gracie had approached me on my left. She walked right up to me, and I put my hand up to her nostrils. I felt her warm breath and her muzzle touching my hand, ever so softly. I noticed that the empty feeling in my stomach had disappeared, and I felt an impulse in my stomach to care for Gracie. I put my arm around her, and we stood with our trunks touching, both of us basking in the felt sense of nurturing. There is still much repair to be done, but it’s encouraging that with the help of Gracie, I was able to get a felt sense of connection, nurturing and belonging, as well as the felt sense of agency to nurture other sentient beings. ~ Patrycja
During this summer session, I continued tracking the herd’s movements and subtle body shifts and my attention focused on Gracie. In the early summer, Gracie was slowly and carefully integrated into the herd at the farm. Her herd member had recently died, and her human rehomed her to the present farm. Re-integrated back into the larger herd, Q, Maria, and Gracie became a close trio. After watching Gracie over the summer feel included in the herd, I felt I finally could truly ‘see’ her. It was palpable when Gracie came up to Patrycja ever so gently and slowly with her breath and whiskers, muzzled her arm. This exchange was comfort for both, while seeking a place to belong. ~Tori ~*~
Summer had arrived and along with it a new horse. Gracie, a bay mare, had been integrating into the herd during the couple of weeks between my sessions. During this time, I had had a difficult week of implicit memories, sensations of fear when in proximity to other human bodies. In Trauma and Memory: Brain and body in the search for the living past, Peter Levine (2015) defines implicit memories as, “…a collage of sensations, emotions, and behaviours. Implicit memories appear and disappear surreptitiously…They are primarily organized around emotions and/or skills, or “procedures” – things that the body does automatically….”
Arriving at the barn, I felt fear and a very uncomfortable surge of energy in my feet. My feet had an impulse to move and so I exited the barn and entered the paddock, to walk off the sensation in my feet. With the sensation in my feet now gone, I had an impulse to hide between safe bodies. Guided by Tori, I expressed my need by saying out loud, “I need safe bodies.” To my surprise, Q, the mare, who on my first day at the barn had seen so deeply into me and offered an unwavering presence, came, and stood next to me. I moved closer to her, smelled her skin, and embraced her. Once again, from the depth of my being came a cry, “I need a mother. I need a mother all to myself. It’s impossible without a mother.” I tried to take in the connection Q was so lovingly offering, but I felt nothing. I had shut down immediately, following this deep emotional expression, which once again showed the nurturing deficit I was carrying from my childhood. In addition to the shut down, I felt an emptiness in my stomach.
While this was happening, Gracie had approached me on my left. She walked right up to me, and I put my hand up to her nostrils. I felt her warm breath and her muzzle touching my hand, ever so softly. I noticed that the empty feeling in my stomach had disappeared, and I felt an impulse in my stomach to care for Gracie. I put my arm around her, and we stood with our trunks touching, both of us basking in the felt sense of nurturing. There is still much repair to be done, but it’s encouraging that with the help of Gracie, I was able to get a felt sense of connection, nurturing and belonging, as well as the felt sense of agency to nurture other sentient beings. ~ Patrycja
During this summer session, I continued tracking the herd’s movements and subtle body shifts and my attention focused on Gracie. In the early summer, Gracie was slowly and carefully integrated into the herd at the farm. Her herd member had recently died, and her human rehomed her to the present farm. Re-integrated back into the larger herd, Q, Maria, and Gracie became a close trio. After watching Gracie over the summer feel included in the herd, I felt I finally could truly ‘see’ her. It was palpable when Gracie came up to Patrycja ever so gently and slowly with her breath and whiskers, muzzled her arm. This exchange was comfort for both, while seeking a place to belong. ~Tori ~*~
Bibliography
- Kain, K.L., and Terrell, S.J. Nurturing Resilience: Helping Clients Move Forward from Developmental Trauma. North Atlantic Books, 2018.
- Levine, P. A. Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma. North Atlantic Books, 1997.
- Levine, Peter A. Trauma And Memory: Brain and body in a search for the living past. North Atlantic Books, 2015.
