Connection and Reflection
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Ten years ago I strode confidently into my new career as a teacher. Shortly after, I was pitched into a drawn-out battle with infertility, culminating in high functioning depression and anxiety. In an attempt to self-medicate with exercise, I returned to horses after a ten-year break. However, it soon became apparent that horses had so much more to give.
I found infertility incredibly isolating and a difficult problem to share. I felt utterly alone and craved a meaningful connection with others. I was part-loaning a mare called Mindy who had a wonderful bond with her owner that I greatly admired. When her owner put Mindy in foal, I began the search for an equine partner of my own.
Paddy, a quirky black cob, entered my life with important lessons to impart. I began to learn that horses hold a mirror up to your state of mind. Three years along my infertility journey, my mental state was heading in an unhealthy direction. Working with Paddy, I repeatedly ignored his warning bunny hops, persistently pushing him towards my preferred path. Eventually he lost his patience and I ended up high on gas and air in the back of an ambulance.
My recuperation prompted me to reflect on the dangerous turn my thought patterns had taken. I almost welcomed the idea of being hurt...or worse. What possible purpose could my life have now? A pregnant friend recently commented, ‘Bringing a new life into the world – if that’s not what life is all about then I don’t know what is’. I needed to find out.
Feeling distanced from everyone, including my husband, I longed for the bond I had witnessed between Mindy and her owner. In preparation, I took ground work lessons and was lucky to meet Pongo, a spotty, hairy Shetland with opinions of his own. At that time my thoughts were fixated on grief or focused on blocking it out with work. Pongo held up a mirror to my mental state. I was learning to direct my energy and intention to protect my space and influence his movements...with varying degrees of success.
Depleted
Taking time out of teaching and grieving and spending it with Pongo, I noticed a correlation between ground work success and my own energy. My mood was reflected in his reaction to me. When I was drained and exhausted, he would put in minimum effort; when I was full of internalised anger – never aimed at him - he exhibited eye rolling and tail swishing. It was the first time I noticed the negative impact the stress of teaching and infertility was having on my effectiveness in the world. I was so depleted I had little left to give! Taking this on board, I took steps towards self care and self control. Our interactions became less confrontational and more fluid - if you can imagine a fluid Shetland!
My teaching days became increasingly full: lesson preparations, assessments, lesson observations, judgements, criticisms, meetings, pressures. There was no time to rest or reflect. Entire days were spent reacting in the moment and rushing from one thing to the next. As Pongo taught me self-awareness, I noticed how hungry, thirsty, tired or ill I felt by the end of each working day. My body became habitually hyped by the constant flood of adrenaline, making it impossible to switch off. Driving home from work each day, my stomach muscles were permanently clenched. I would go to bed with a throbbing head and aching eyes, mentally going through the list of preparations I needed to achieve before the morning bell signalled the onslaught.
When Indie came into my life, all this began to change.
I had long dreamed of Friesians but in the end Indie found me. I had all but given up my search when Indie’s owner got in touch about a loan. I was imagining a smaller horse that was safe and sane, a “been there, done that” type. Indie was a chunky 15.2hh with a dislike for tractors who had been known to bolt in fear. However, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to meet a Friesian. When we met she lowered her head with such grace and presence, greeting me gently with her nose. I experienced the first burst of joy I had felt in a long time. Such beauty and power reminded me that perhaps there were still joys to be found in life despite the sorrow. I took the loan of course, and a year later I bought her.
I kept Indie on a livery yard on my route to work. Instead of driving straight home with the events of the day still on my mind, I would go straight to Indie. Some days all I had time to do was settle her in for the night, and yet even those moments in her presence transformed my evenings.
Whatever might have happened in Indie’s day or mine, she was always calm by the time we stood on a fresh bed of straw in the stable, Indie munching rhythmically on her hay while I groomed her. Sometimes I would be sobbing from the pressures of the day and she would breathe on me but otherwise let me be; company but no pressure.
Describing the research of the HeartMath Institute, Lisa Walters and Dr. Ann Baldwin (www.equusatori.com/wordpress1/?p=206) explain how being in the presence of horses was found to have the effect of smoothing out the Heart Rate Variability (HRV) in humans. As the brainwaves begin to sync with the HRV, stress hormones drop and good mood hormones flood in, leading to a state of coherence. I certainly feel that being in Indie’s presence had a calming influence on my state of mind.
Walters and Baldwin describe how a state of coherence facilitates expanding awareness and personal growth through gaining a new perspective. For me, spending time around the right horses has created a mindset open to contemplation and self-revelation.
I certainly feel that being in Indie’s presence
had a calming influence on my state of mind.
With Indie I have found the mutual partnership that I set out to discover. She has taught me many lessons but one in particular stands out. Time and again she reminds me that the most important ingredient in effective communication is listening.
I find that when I am not listening to Indie, I am not listening to myself either. Polite as she is, Indie’s communication is always subtle. I have been guilty of ignoring the twitch of a tail, the rolling of an eye, the turning away of her head; but I am learning. Recently she became sluggish.
The more I pushed Indie for anything the more she resisted and the more red-faced I became. The minute I went back to asking instead of telling, I was with the old Indie again. She may as well have said out loud, “Thank God for that, I’ve been trying to tell you for ages”. She only wanted to be asked nicely. Who doesn’t?
Horses have much to teach us about the quality of our relationships, including our relationships with ourselves. However, we have to be quiet and still long enough to see it...and that’s something that they can help us with as well.
One symptom of my depression was the need to withdraw. Infertility drained me of the resilience to navigate the pressures of trying to be the perfect teacher, colleague, wife, daughter, sister, friend. Thanks to Indie, I could withdraw without feeling alone. Her non-judgemental acceptance set an example to stop judging myself as insufficient and accept that I was struggling.
Learning to live with
I am learning to live with the infertility, but a constant fear is that the depression and anxiety might return. Highly perceptive and holding up a mirror to my emotions and energy levels, Indie is a prompt to take action if I begin to decline. She is also a reminder that healthy relationships are key in recovery, and that relationships are reciprocal.
I endeavour to be as receptive to Indie’s needs as she is to mine. Giving something back – both in my personal relationships and to society as a whole – has been another essential tool in maintaining good mental health and finding a purpose in life.
Paddy, a quirky black cob, entered my life with important lessons to impart. I began to learn that horses hold a mirror up to your state of mind. Three years along my infertility journey, my mental state was heading in an unhealthy direction. Working with Paddy, I repeatedly ignored his warning bunny hops, persistently pushing him towards my preferred path. Eventually he lost his patience and I ended up high on gas and air in the back of an ambulance.
My recuperation prompted me to reflect on the dangerous turn my thought patterns had taken. I almost welcomed the idea of being hurt...or worse. What possible purpose could my life have now? A pregnant friend recently commented, ‘Bringing a new life into the world – if that’s not what life is all about then I don’t know what is’. I needed to find out.
Feeling distanced from everyone, including my husband, I longed for the bond I had witnessed between Mindy and her owner. In preparation, I took ground work lessons and was lucky to meet Pongo, a spotty, hairy Shetland with opinions of his own. At that time my thoughts were fixated on grief or focused on blocking it out with work. Pongo held up a mirror to my mental state. I was learning to direct my energy and intention to protect my space and influence his movements...with varying degrees of success.
Depleted
Taking time out of teaching and grieving and spending it with Pongo, I noticed a correlation between ground work success and my own energy. My mood was reflected in his reaction to me. When I was drained and exhausted, he would put in minimum effort; when I was full of internalised anger – never aimed at him - he exhibited eye rolling and tail swishing. It was the first time I noticed the negative impact the stress of teaching and infertility was having on my effectiveness in the world. I was so depleted I had little left to give! Taking this on board, I took steps towards self care and self control. Our interactions became less confrontational and more fluid - if you can imagine a fluid Shetland!
My teaching days became increasingly full: lesson preparations, assessments, lesson observations, judgements, criticisms, meetings, pressures. There was no time to rest or reflect. Entire days were spent reacting in the moment and rushing from one thing to the next. As Pongo taught me self-awareness, I noticed how hungry, thirsty, tired or ill I felt by the end of each working day. My body became habitually hyped by the constant flood of adrenaline, making it impossible to switch off. Driving home from work each day, my stomach muscles were permanently clenched. I would go to bed with a throbbing head and aching eyes, mentally going through the list of preparations I needed to achieve before the morning bell signalled the onslaught.
When Indie came into my life, all this began to change.
I had long dreamed of Friesians but in the end Indie found me. I had all but given up my search when Indie’s owner got in touch about a loan. I was imagining a smaller horse that was safe and sane, a “been there, done that” type. Indie was a chunky 15.2hh with a dislike for tractors who had been known to bolt in fear. However, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to meet a Friesian. When we met she lowered her head with such grace and presence, greeting me gently with her nose. I experienced the first burst of joy I had felt in a long time. Such beauty and power reminded me that perhaps there were still joys to be found in life despite the sorrow. I took the loan of course, and a year later I bought her.
I kept Indie on a livery yard on my route to work. Instead of driving straight home with the events of the day still on my mind, I would go straight to Indie. Some days all I had time to do was settle her in for the night, and yet even those moments in her presence transformed my evenings.
Whatever might have happened in Indie’s day or mine, she was always calm by the time we stood on a fresh bed of straw in the stable, Indie munching rhythmically on her hay while I groomed her. Sometimes I would be sobbing from the pressures of the day and she would breathe on me but otherwise let me be; company but no pressure.
Describing the research of the HeartMath Institute, Lisa Walters and Dr. Ann Baldwin (www.equusatori.com/wordpress1/?p=206) explain how being in the presence of horses was found to have the effect of smoothing out the Heart Rate Variability (HRV) in humans. As the brainwaves begin to sync with the HRV, stress hormones drop and good mood hormones flood in, leading to a state of coherence. I certainly feel that being in Indie’s presence had a calming influence on my state of mind.
Walters and Baldwin describe how a state of coherence facilitates expanding awareness and personal growth through gaining a new perspective. For me, spending time around the right horses has created a mindset open to contemplation and self-revelation.
I certainly feel that being in Indie’s presence
had a calming influence on my state of mind.
With Indie I have found the mutual partnership that I set out to discover. She has taught me many lessons but one in particular stands out. Time and again she reminds me that the most important ingredient in effective communication is listening.
I find that when I am not listening to Indie, I am not listening to myself either. Polite as she is, Indie’s communication is always subtle. I have been guilty of ignoring the twitch of a tail, the rolling of an eye, the turning away of her head; but I am learning. Recently she became sluggish.
The more I pushed Indie for anything the more she resisted and the more red-faced I became. The minute I went back to asking instead of telling, I was with the old Indie again. She may as well have said out loud, “Thank God for that, I’ve been trying to tell you for ages”. She only wanted to be asked nicely. Who doesn’t?
Horses have much to teach us about the quality of our relationships, including our relationships with ourselves. However, we have to be quiet and still long enough to see it...and that’s something that they can help us with as well.
One symptom of my depression was the need to withdraw. Infertility drained me of the resilience to navigate the pressures of trying to be the perfect teacher, colleague, wife, daughter, sister, friend. Thanks to Indie, I could withdraw without feeling alone. Her non-judgemental acceptance set an example to stop judging myself as insufficient and accept that I was struggling.
Learning to live with
I am learning to live with the infertility, but a constant fear is that the depression and anxiety might return. Highly perceptive and holding up a mirror to my emotions and energy levels, Indie is a prompt to take action if I begin to decline. She is also a reminder that healthy relationships are key in recovery, and that relationships are reciprocal.
I endeavour to be as receptive to Indie’s needs as she is to mine. Giving something back – both in my personal relationships and to society as a whole – has been another essential tool in maintaining good mental health and finding a purpose in life.
Horses have much to teach us about the quality of our relationships,
including our relationships with ourselves.
including our relationships with ourselves.
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Stephanie Chilton Bio Stephanie Chilton first discovered the healing power of animals when her parents took her for her first riding lesson at age six. As a young adult, she spent less time with animals and trained to become a teacher. Eventually, a combination of work pressures and a diagnosis of infertility resulting from premature ovarian failure saw her develop anxiety and depression. Stephanie now lives in Yorkshire, UK, with her husband, Tom, and works as a university administrator and a private tutor. She is working towards creating a blog in order to support fellow sufferers and is currently writing a book about her experiences. Supporting her through her recovery are the animals she has since shared her life with, in particular her Friesian mare, Indie, who has been with her for the last four years. If you wish to connect with Stephanie or be notified of the launch of her blog, please contact yorkshirerosetutor@icloud.com. |