THE HORSE’S JOURNEY
Narrative as Creator of Experience
By: Graeme Green
In 1996 someone bought a tape measure. They paid almost $46,000.
Really! OK it was a Tiffany tape measure, but still.
So, what happened? Well it was once owned by John Fitzgerald Kennedy. That was enough.
The story of its provenance established a different measure of value, for at least one person. Some of you might say an irrational value.
Really! OK it was a Tiffany tape measure, but still.
So, what happened? Well it was once owned by John Fitzgerald Kennedy. That was enough.
The story of its provenance established a different measure of value, for at least one person. Some of you might say an irrational value.
Narrative has far more influence than assigning value. It helps us to locate ourselves, to make sense of the world and to retain information. When we weave the adventures of heroes and heroines into them, we engage, we empathise, inspire and even give hope. In a scientific world of facts and repeatable proofs we too quickly forget the magic of stories.
At a primitive level narrative gets us from place to place. It carries the route we need to follow, be it to a supermarket or to a water hole.
What has all this got to do with horses?
Whether horses tell themselves stories is a discussion for another day. But we certainly do, and for centuries those stories have involved horses.
When we work alongside horses, effective interaction is a reflection of how we are. And how we are is so often influenced by the stories we tell ourselves about ourselves and the horses.
How often have I heard “the horse doesn't like me", “the horse is bored now", or “the horse will never do that"? I am sure other practitioners will have many to add to this list. The thing is, these stories set our expectation and so influence our action, for better or worse.
If I don’t believe the horse will undertake what I ask of it, it will almost definitely not do it. Why should it?
LETS STEP BACK IN TIME
We have always told ourselves stories. Traditionally they carried the knowledge of cultures and communities through generations. They made sense of the world around us. When we look into these stories, they are not just engaging but they have woven into them the wisdom of generations and ancestry. Myths such as those of Gilgamesh, Hercules or Osiris carry the keys to make sense of both the world around and the heavens above. They also carry the wisdom and histories of a culture and its ancestry.
And these stories – like much of human history – are replete with horses, Slepnir, Pegasus, The Unicorn etc. This deep connection with the equine is as much a part of being human as these tales themselves. Not only in our stories, but deep in our language through popular idiom and metaphor. The fascination is ancient, just take yourself to the images on the cave walls in Lascaux or Chauvet (1). The title of this article is an acknowledgement of Joseph Campbell's insight. Campbell studied myths of the world and drew out what he called “The Hero’s Journey” – a cycle of challenge, exploration and enlightenment played out within the tales of ancient and traditional cultures around the world. A model that continues to be replayed for our entertainment to this day in modern narratives like Star Wars or Harry Potter.
Beside the horse we can be the hero of our adventure, sharing an atavistic cross specie connection that deeply resonates with who we are. As scientist Rupert Sheldrake might say we are with horses in “the presence of the past", somewhere in that moment there is morphic resonance(2), an implicit connection with things that have always inspired and engaged humans.
And now, we might - in context - be turning to our horse as a facilitator seeking coaching or therapeutic insight, but in doing so we turn to a part of ourselves and our own lineage. The place that the horse holds within the collective human heart is a reflection of our shared stories, from a child's dream of ponies, to the farm, to the battlefield.
At a primitive level narrative gets us from place to place. It carries the route we need to follow, be it to a supermarket or to a water hole.
What has all this got to do with horses?
Whether horses tell themselves stories is a discussion for another day. But we certainly do, and for centuries those stories have involved horses.
When we work alongside horses, effective interaction is a reflection of how we are. And how we are is so often influenced by the stories we tell ourselves about ourselves and the horses.
How often have I heard “the horse doesn't like me", “the horse is bored now", or “the horse will never do that"? I am sure other practitioners will have many to add to this list. The thing is, these stories set our expectation and so influence our action, for better or worse.
If I don’t believe the horse will undertake what I ask of it, it will almost definitely not do it. Why should it?
LETS STEP BACK IN TIME
We have always told ourselves stories. Traditionally they carried the knowledge of cultures and communities through generations. They made sense of the world around us. When we look into these stories, they are not just engaging but they have woven into them the wisdom of generations and ancestry. Myths such as those of Gilgamesh, Hercules or Osiris carry the keys to make sense of both the world around and the heavens above. They also carry the wisdom and histories of a culture and its ancestry.
And these stories – like much of human history – are replete with horses, Slepnir, Pegasus, The Unicorn etc. This deep connection with the equine is as much a part of being human as these tales themselves. Not only in our stories, but deep in our language through popular idiom and metaphor. The fascination is ancient, just take yourself to the images on the cave walls in Lascaux or Chauvet (1). The title of this article is an acknowledgement of Joseph Campbell's insight. Campbell studied myths of the world and drew out what he called “The Hero’s Journey” – a cycle of challenge, exploration and enlightenment played out within the tales of ancient and traditional cultures around the world. A model that continues to be replayed for our entertainment to this day in modern narratives like Star Wars or Harry Potter.
Beside the horse we can be the hero of our adventure, sharing an atavistic cross specie connection that deeply resonates with who we are. As scientist Rupert Sheldrake might say we are with horses in “the presence of the past", somewhere in that moment there is morphic resonance(2), an implicit connection with things that have always inspired and engaged humans.
And now, we might - in context - be turning to our horse as a facilitator seeking coaching or therapeutic insight, but in doing so we turn to a part of ourselves and our own lineage. The place that the horse holds within the collective human heart is a reflection of our shared stories, from a child's dream of ponies, to the farm, to the battlefield.
STUCK IN TRAFFIC
I try to avoid asking too much about clients’ challenges. Wherever possible I prefer to leave them within their own narrative. The stories we tell ourselves affect how we are, and how we approach things, to the extent that it influences those around us. Enter the horses.
One client became stuck in the middle of an obstacle with my horse Ernie. Ernie refused at any cost to move. After quite some time had elapsed, I was compelled to ask her, “where are we?”. It turned out this was the M25. A notorious, persistent traffic jam which encircles London (for all you non-UK residents).
Stories very often work at deeper levels than just the words we hear, and so beside the horses it is more than just the observed phenomena. In this case, the commute was superficially a huge drain on time and energy. But it also drew out the real plot, which was about what was her work role had become increasingly unsatisfactory role for her.
Did she actually ever want to get there at all?
When we tell ourselves a story where movement becomes impossible or undesirable, suddenly we cease to be able to move forward even in open space – and in our way this becomes our instruction to the horse. My client needed to shift her story. Only when she did, were they able to revisit the exercise with success.
Narratives so often, and often unintentionally, influence our reality and behaviour.
REWRITING THE STORY
Experiential learning places the individual at the heart of their own learning, like the hero at the centre of their narrative or journey. Like the hero we can see ourselves in dark and challenging places, but in the mythology the hero overcomes and moves on, stronger and wiser. When we step into their challenges there is hope.
Too often when we face a challenge it consumes us and we cannot see beyond it. We feel stuck, or trapped within. Our brains are too easily limited by the idea that “how things are now", will be as they shall be hereafter. In the metaphor of the story, there is hope beyond the challenge, the hero eventually moves on.
Within the story we might recognise that this is but one chapter. We are not here in perpetuity, and this hope can change our experience and so our behaviour.
Tyler was getting close to his last chance. He was at a Pupil Referral Unit and this was his last chance of getting an education. His goal was to stay in his class for the whole lesson.
It seemed easy, but it was not. Whenever he was corrected by the teacher he would be overcome and have to leave the classroom to smoke. He knew this was not helpful and it was compromising any chance of achievement. Tyler needed an appropriate narrative to help him move beyond those moments of challenge.
We created a physical journey for Tyler and the pony Blue. A maze of jump poles, weaving it’s way around the arena. It represented his lesson. The corners in the maze those moments of correction.
In the first attempts, the connection between the two of them broke down in these corners. Blue quickly picking up that Tyler’s emotions were essentially “getting the most of him" and moving away. We talked. We breathed. We created stories and set strategies that aligned to his intention. We worked with that maze a lot. Tyler’s challenge to get through it and back without giving up (without “metaphorically" leaving for the cigarette). In time he could walk through it with Blue without any lead rope or aids, turn around and return without stopping, or disconnecting from Blue.
Tyler learned to see beyond difficulty. Most importantly he learned the resilience to reconnect with his intention and continue, even in those moments when the going got tough. Tyler learned he had a choice. He learned to stay in class. Tyler learned to continue with his intended journey without falling at each hurdle.
I try to avoid asking too much about clients’ challenges. Wherever possible I prefer to leave them within their own narrative. The stories we tell ourselves affect how we are, and how we approach things, to the extent that it influences those around us. Enter the horses.
One client became stuck in the middle of an obstacle with my horse Ernie. Ernie refused at any cost to move. After quite some time had elapsed, I was compelled to ask her, “where are we?”. It turned out this was the M25. A notorious, persistent traffic jam which encircles London (for all you non-UK residents).
Stories very often work at deeper levels than just the words we hear, and so beside the horses it is more than just the observed phenomena. In this case, the commute was superficially a huge drain on time and energy. But it also drew out the real plot, which was about what was her work role had become increasingly unsatisfactory role for her.
Did she actually ever want to get there at all?
When we tell ourselves a story where movement becomes impossible or undesirable, suddenly we cease to be able to move forward even in open space – and in our way this becomes our instruction to the horse. My client needed to shift her story. Only when she did, were they able to revisit the exercise with success.
Narratives so often, and often unintentionally, influence our reality and behaviour.
REWRITING THE STORY
Experiential learning places the individual at the heart of their own learning, like the hero at the centre of their narrative or journey. Like the hero we can see ourselves in dark and challenging places, but in the mythology the hero overcomes and moves on, stronger and wiser. When we step into their challenges there is hope.
Too often when we face a challenge it consumes us and we cannot see beyond it. We feel stuck, or trapped within. Our brains are too easily limited by the idea that “how things are now", will be as they shall be hereafter. In the metaphor of the story, there is hope beyond the challenge, the hero eventually moves on.
Within the story we might recognise that this is but one chapter. We are not here in perpetuity, and this hope can change our experience and so our behaviour.
Tyler was getting close to his last chance. He was at a Pupil Referral Unit and this was his last chance of getting an education. His goal was to stay in his class for the whole lesson.
It seemed easy, but it was not. Whenever he was corrected by the teacher he would be overcome and have to leave the classroom to smoke. He knew this was not helpful and it was compromising any chance of achievement. Tyler needed an appropriate narrative to help him move beyond those moments of challenge.
We created a physical journey for Tyler and the pony Blue. A maze of jump poles, weaving it’s way around the arena. It represented his lesson. The corners in the maze those moments of correction.
In the first attempts, the connection between the two of them broke down in these corners. Blue quickly picking up that Tyler’s emotions were essentially “getting the most of him" and moving away. We talked. We breathed. We created stories and set strategies that aligned to his intention. We worked with that maze a lot. Tyler’s challenge to get through it and back without giving up (without “metaphorically" leaving for the cigarette). In time he could walk through it with Blue without any lead rope or aids, turn around and return without stopping, or disconnecting from Blue.
Tyler learned to see beyond difficulty. Most importantly he learned the resilience to reconnect with his intention and continue, even in those moments when the going got tough. Tyler learned he had a choice. He learned to stay in class. Tyler learned to continue with his intended journey without falling at each hurdle.
THE HERO'S RETURN
The implicit strength of the Hero's journey is that it helps us to recognise the bigger picture, we can step back from the apparent consuming challenges of the moment. We can, as they say, play the long-game. The Horse and Human journey here is the same. How might we see beyond the challenge? How might we keep our vision upon the path ahead of us? The right story offers hope, and so belief. And therein is a foundation of resilience.
Equine Facilitated Learning is not about the horse, nor about the way the horse engages with some exercise or obstacle. It is about the stories that arise within us as we walk beside them, and the emotions and behaviours that the situations give rise to within us. The horse’s role is to shine a light upon those behaviours.
It really is about us and what we ultimately choose to do with the awareness that we are offered in the interaction. In changing the story, we can change the behaviour. But first we must be willing to create that different and more appropriate narrative.
The implicit strength of the Hero's journey is that it helps us to recognise the bigger picture, we can step back from the apparent consuming challenges of the moment. We can, as they say, play the long-game. The Horse and Human journey here is the same. How might we see beyond the challenge? How might we keep our vision upon the path ahead of us? The right story offers hope, and so belief. And therein is a foundation of resilience.
Equine Facilitated Learning is not about the horse, nor about the way the horse engages with some exercise or obstacle. It is about the stories that arise within us as we walk beside them, and the emotions and behaviours that the situations give rise to within us. The horse’s role is to shine a light upon those behaviours.
It really is about us and what we ultimately choose to do with the awareness that we are offered in the interaction. In changing the story, we can change the behaviour. But first we must be willing to create that different and more appropriate narrative.
In the end, we are all both the narrators and heroes of our own stories. The horses provide us the page onto which we might write it. ~*~
