Their Bonded Hearts
Two Herds Connected through Intimacy
Lynda J Watson, Canada
“This was a bond that neither space nor time could damage. The friendship awakened an eternal echo in the hearts of the friends; they entered into a circle of intimate belonging with each other.” -John O’Donohue
The horse herd and the human herd have shared a bond throughout millennia. There are the documented and known tales of being side by side through thick and thin, through valor and strife. There are also the stories less told. Those that tell the tale of two herds and the bonded heart they share. It is of the horse~human connection. One which will guide humanity on the path back to their hearts, a path that many have strayed from over time. Although that bond has been there since time immemorial, it is just now that the human herd is beginning to understand and feel the wisdom in the heart of the herd. This is not the surface history we read about but the innermost tale of our bonded hearts. This story will lead us back to our authentic souls. The wisdom of this connection is humanity’s way forward to a future of belonging and compassion. When we connect with the heart of the horse, we connect with the divine, around us and within us. Let us play in that space of the heart. Join me on this journey into that intimate friendship that humanity shares with the collective heart of the herd.
Let us consider this journey with a visit to three different frames of being: Heart, Body, and Time. Within each of these we find an opposing way of being between human and horse. Yet we are invited to move to a space of commonality within our herds and understand the bond that our ancestors shared. A bond of intimate friendship, inner knowing, and a witnessing of each other’s journeys through time.
An Invitation to the Field
There is no better learning space than the field where the equine herd resides. So, let us head there to explore these frames of being. Let us see where the horses lead us and how we are inspired to follow. Perhaps we will remain in the linear form of gathering knowledge that is so common to the human herd, OR maybe we will find a space in the non-linear natural world where the horse and its fellow non-human earth mates live their lives. Let us step into the unknown and see what wishes to become known.
The frames of being that are Time, Heart, and Body, do not exist in separate spaces. They live in an intermingled place of singularity, each knowing that they ebb and flow as one unit: be that an individual unit, a herd unit, or a unit of universal proportions.
Let us consider this journey with a visit to three different frames of being: Heart, Body, and Time. Within each of these we find an opposing way of being between human and horse. Yet we are invited to move to a space of commonality within our herds and understand the bond that our ancestors shared. A bond of intimate friendship, inner knowing, and a witnessing of each other’s journeys through time.
An Invitation to the Field
There is no better learning space than the field where the equine herd resides. So, let us head there to explore these frames of being. Let us see where the horses lead us and how we are inspired to follow. Perhaps we will remain in the linear form of gathering knowledge that is so common to the human herd, OR maybe we will find a space in the non-linear natural world where the horse and its fellow non-human earth mates live their lives. Let us step into the unknown and see what wishes to become known.
The frames of being that are Time, Heart, and Body, do not exist in separate spaces. They live in an intermingled place of singularity, each knowing that they ebb and flow as one unit: be that an individual unit, a herd unit, or a unit of universal proportions.
The Dragon Sisters from Harmony with Horses
The equine herd has invited us to their field on this warm day that offers our senses a comfortable and engaging place to play. Let us imagine a large field described as a most gentle and peaceful area. We feel the breeze blow across the paddock, playfully traversing numerous small rolling hills. It dances around a multitude of small groves of trees. We can feel the joy in the breeze on our skin and hear the land and air giggling, asking us to join in the fun. It is an area that was most likely an old forest that has been worn by time and hoofprints, with the groves of trees being all that remained. It still sang, played with the wind, and provided a home to the small creatures of the land and the winged creatures of the air. If this is what the horses felt daily, what a joyous and content life they must live.
As we start to walk the fields, hoping to find the perfect place to sit, we see pathways made by the horses. It is said that horses become the architects of the land they live on when left to roam freely. These are their roadways from south to north and east to west. It relates to the shape of the land, the air, the sun, the trees, as well as their resources of food and water. All of nature whispers to the horses, and the horses respond with instinctual movements in sync with nature. We decide to witness and follow these paths first, imagining we are walking alongside the horses. We are mindful of how we walk on their roads, on Mother Earth, softly and consciously. We are quiet and listen for what the horses hear in their daily meanderings. Perhaps they will guide us to the perfect resting spot, and they most certainly do. It is not a spot that seems inviting to the human mind. It is a circle of dirt in an otherwise lush, green pasture. This is, however, a coveted spot for the equine herd. When we arrive, we find a few of them using the spot for just its purpose: a space enjoyed as a rolling spot to scratch their bodies, cover themselves in sand to ward off flies, or, if the dirt is wet, roll in the cooling mud. We stand at a respectful distance and watch as the horses tend to their self-care and head out along their highways to graze in the lush fields. We decide that this is a sacred spot for the horses, so we arrange ourselves around the outside of it and lean into its holiness. We can hear the breeze in the trees and the waves from the ocean off to the west. We trusted that we would be guided to the perfect spot, and we certainly were. We close our eyes, take in the fresh ocean air, and offer gratitude for being in this very present moment.
We hear the hoof steps of a small group of horses who have chosen to come and rest around us. We are not here to interact or touch them. We are here to understand the intimate bond that horses and humans share now and have shared for thousands of years. We are here to consider a sense outside of time that can only be experienced in the presence of the herd. We are honoured they have joined us. We have three frames of being to explore today. Perhaps we start with the heart’s frame of being.
As we start to walk the fields, hoping to find the perfect place to sit, we see pathways made by the horses. It is said that horses become the architects of the land they live on when left to roam freely. These are their roadways from south to north and east to west. It relates to the shape of the land, the air, the sun, the trees, as well as their resources of food and water. All of nature whispers to the horses, and the horses respond with instinctual movements in sync with nature. We decide to witness and follow these paths first, imagining we are walking alongside the horses. We are mindful of how we walk on their roads, on Mother Earth, softly and consciously. We are quiet and listen for what the horses hear in their daily meanderings. Perhaps they will guide us to the perfect resting spot, and they most certainly do. It is not a spot that seems inviting to the human mind. It is a circle of dirt in an otherwise lush, green pasture. This is, however, a coveted spot for the equine herd. When we arrive, we find a few of them using the spot for just its purpose: a space enjoyed as a rolling spot to scratch their bodies, cover themselves in sand to ward off flies, or, if the dirt is wet, roll in the cooling mud. We stand at a respectful distance and watch as the horses tend to their self-care and head out along their highways to graze in the lush fields. We decide that this is a sacred spot for the horses, so we arrange ourselves around the outside of it and lean into its holiness. We can hear the breeze in the trees and the waves from the ocean off to the west. We trusted that we would be guided to the perfect spot, and we certainly were. We close our eyes, take in the fresh ocean air, and offer gratitude for being in this very present moment.
We hear the hoof steps of a small group of horses who have chosen to come and rest around us. We are not here to interact or touch them. We are here to understand the intimate bond that horses and humans share now and have shared for thousands of years. We are here to consider a sense outside of time that can only be experienced in the presence of the herd. We are honoured they have joined us. We have three frames of being to explore today. Perhaps we start with the heart’s frame of being.
Redman, SpiritWalker, and BraveHeart at Horse Spirit Connections
The Heart's Frame of Being
What bonds our hearts: the equine and human herd? We know now via research that the heart is the largest organ in the body in terms of electromagnetic fields. Our hearts speak long before our voices do. The horse’s heart is immensely larger than ours; therefore, it emits further afield. That, combined with the calm state that horses live in, except when pursued by a predator, sets us up with a tranquil frame of heart. Of course, it is unfair of us as humans, to burden the horse with the unsettled and erratic states of heart we often are holding. In reality, we are the predator and they are the prey. When we sit with them, as we are now, in a soft state of being, we can learn to delve even deeper into our hearts just by being in their presence. When we approach them in unsettled and chaotic states, our heart announces our predatorial presence, and they respond as if we are there considering our next meal. When we are aware of this difference in our frames of being, we can learn from a perspective that is beyond our predatorial point of view. If we consider their way of living, we are certain to see a more balanced way of living that offers multiple ways of the heart. A healthy ecosystem needs predators, but a weighted predatorial point of view does no one well. When we spend time with a healthy natural herd, our hearts learn from their hearts. We remember that deeply intimate bond shared by our ancestors.
It is a bond that is proven in graves over two thousand years old from the Iron Age Celts when horses and humans were buried alongside each other¹. It is seen in numerous other ancient burials. Other examples of this bond are found in the caves of Lascaux, France, where horses were the most depicted of any animal². Three hundred and sixty-four equine paintings at approximately 17,000 years old. As you can see, we hold a bond with this being that has stood the test of time. So much so that it must be in our DNA to be drawn to the equine herd.
In our sacred spot, we discuss our frame of heart in further details, the differences and the commonalities, and what we can derive from their paradigm of living. The horses have moved closer now, and we feel their heart energy connecting with ours. We send our loving energy and gratitude back in return, stepping out of the linear, and into the more natural, more circular frame of heart, and breath, as one collective.
What bonds our hearts: the equine and human herd? We know now via research that the heart is the largest organ in the body in terms of electromagnetic fields. Our hearts speak long before our voices do. The horse’s heart is immensely larger than ours; therefore, it emits further afield. That, combined with the calm state that horses live in, except when pursued by a predator, sets us up with a tranquil frame of heart. Of course, it is unfair of us as humans, to burden the horse with the unsettled and erratic states of heart we often are holding. In reality, we are the predator and they are the prey. When we sit with them, as we are now, in a soft state of being, we can learn to delve even deeper into our hearts just by being in their presence. When we approach them in unsettled and chaotic states, our heart announces our predatorial presence, and they respond as if we are there considering our next meal. When we are aware of this difference in our frames of being, we can learn from a perspective that is beyond our predatorial point of view. If we consider their way of living, we are certain to see a more balanced way of living that offers multiple ways of the heart. A healthy ecosystem needs predators, but a weighted predatorial point of view does no one well. When we spend time with a healthy natural herd, our hearts learn from their hearts. We remember that deeply intimate bond shared by our ancestors.
It is a bond that is proven in graves over two thousand years old from the Iron Age Celts when horses and humans were buried alongside each other¹. It is seen in numerous other ancient burials. Other examples of this bond are found in the caves of Lascaux, France, where horses were the most depicted of any animal². Three hundred and sixty-four equine paintings at approximately 17,000 years old. As you can see, we hold a bond with this being that has stood the test of time. So much so that it must be in our DNA to be drawn to the equine herd.
In our sacred spot, we discuss our frame of heart in further details, the differences and the commonalities, and what we can derive from their paradigm of living. The horses have moved closer now, and we feel their heart energy connecting with ours. We send our loving energy and gratitude back in return, stepping out of the linear, and into the more natural, more circular frame of heart, and breath, as one collective.
The Body's Frame of Being
We decide to visit the body’s frame of being next. It is a natural state of being for the horses, and we humans always find wisdom in a new space in our body when we sit in the space of the herd. The horses fully communicate with their bodies and their body language, from setting clear and honest boundaries with their herd mates (and us) to sensing the energy of any potential dangers that might be in their environment. They fully trust each other’s body cues, and if danger is felt by one, they don’t question; they all move to safety. Trust is an integral part of listening to our body. As we are sitting in the field with the horses, a few have slowly moved forward and are standing behind us, close enough for us to hear them grazing, the depth of their breath, and the energy of their hearts. We have taken time to move ourselves into a slow state of being in our bodies. We take some deep breaths, intentionally release the energy of our hurried daily lives, and sit in a soft space of gratitude and compassion. We can often trigger the horses into a reaction to move away from a predator with our elevated heart rates, busy minds, and stressed breathing. Our body language is speaking to their body radars. They sense that something is not as it needs to be in their environment, and they either move away or point it out to us so we may fix it. Their environment should be peaceful and calm and those in it fully present. This way they conserve energy for when it is really needed; they can graze and sleep in a state of calm, as well as thrive in an environment that is fully natural for them. Through observation of their body language, energy, and communication amongst the herd, we learn how our energy can affect our herd. We become fully aware of how we communicate when we don’t use words. We look to the environment around us. We look to others, both human and horse. In our gentle states, the horses feel safe enough to step towards us, a few of them breathing into our ears and on the tops of our heads. We don’t see them; we feel them. We feel their energy in our bodies. We feel their calm prey perspective, and we find our own prey perspective in our bodies. That is the transition we can make when we are around the equine herd from the human body frame of being to the horse body frame of being: calmer, softer, slower, more aware, and more connected. We feel the bond our ancestors felt with the equine herds. Perhaps we feel the same warm breath in our ears and whispers in our souls.
In the body, the horse’s frame of being is circular and cyclical. Their bodies follow the seasons: heavy coats in the winter, shedding in the spring, light coats in the summer, all following the natural order of things. They move to where the resources are available, just like ancient humans did. They followed the land. Similar to our architects of the land in this large pasture. They build roads that take them to where they are in sync with nature. I have seen horses with the best man-made structures to protect them from the wind choose to stand far off in the field on freezing windy days. When I decided to be a horse and walk the field myself, I found a windbreak I never knew was there. The body frame of being leads us to their perspectives on time.
We decide to visit the body’s frame of being next. It is a natural state of being for the horses, and we humans always find wisdom in a new space in our body when we sit in the space of the herd. The horses fully communicate with their bodies and their body language, from setting clear and honest boundaries with their herd mates (and us) to sensing the energy of any potential dangers that might be in their environment. They fully trust each other’s body cues, and if danger is felt by one, they don’t question; they all move to safety. Trust is an integral part of listening to our body. As we are sitting in the field with the horses, a few have slowly moved forward and are standing behind us, close enough for us to hear them grazing, the depth of their breath, and the energy of their hearts. We have taken time to move ourselves into a slow state of being in our bodies. We take some deep breaths, intentionally release the energy of our hurried daily lives, and sit in a soft space of gratitude and compassion. We can often trigger the horses into a reaction to move away from a predator with our elevated heart rates, busy minds, and stressed breathing. Our body language is speaking to their body radars. They sense that something is not as it needs to be in their environment, and they either move away or point it out to us so we may fix it. Their environment should be peaceful and calm and those in it fully present. This way they conserve energy for when it is really needed; they can graze and sleep in a state of calm, as well as thrive in an environment that is fully natural for them. Through observation of their body language, energy, and communication amongst the herd, we learn how our energy can affect our herd. We become fully aware of how we communicate when we don’t use words. We look to the environment around us. We look to others, both human and horse. In our gentle states, the horses feel safe enough to step towards us, a few of them breathing into our ears and on the tops of our heads. We don’t see them; we feel them. We feel their energy in our bodies. We feel their calm prey perspective, and we find our own prey perspective in our bodies. That is the transition we can make when we are around the equine herd from the human body frame of being to the horse body frame of being: calmer, softer, slower, more aware, and more connected. We feel the bond our ancestors felt with the equine herds. Perhaps we feel the same warm breath in our ears and whispers in our souls.
In the body, the horse’s frame of being is circular and cyclical. Their bodies follow the seasons: heavy coats in the winter, shedding in the spring, light coats in the summer, all following the natural order of things. They move to where the resources are available, just like ancient humans did. They followed the land. Similar to our architects of the land in this large pasture. They build roads that take them to where they are in sync with nature. I have seen horses with the best man-made structures to protect them from the wind choose to stand far off in the field on freezing windy days. When I decided to be a horse and walk the field myself, I found a windbreak I never knew was there. The body frame of being leads us to their perspectives on time.
Contendor and Paris at Horse Spirit Connections
Time's Frame of Being
We wait until now to explore this Time Frame of Being. This is very different for horses and modern humans, and it often takes a while for humans to get into a space where we can experience the equine horse time. Therefore, we explored the heart and body first to get out of our heads, slow the body and its functions, and be in a deep state of gratitude. Did you notice that the horses have moved slowly closer? We have put no expectations on them. We have asked for nothing other than to be in their field. They didn’t mind as there was much room for us all in the large pasture. They could move freely towards or away from us as they wished. We settled into a peaceful state, so they felt no threat from our presence.
If we start with the human time frame of being, we find a linear path. Time is measured. Time is the beginning to end, of a project, of a life. We watch the seconds tick by, and wonder where the time went. We stress when we don’t have enough of it or complain when we have too much. Time for humans goes from here to there. It is a destination. This generally raises our heart and breath rates (which are measured in time too), elevates our blood pressure, and overall, creates anxiety.
Two Bonded Herds
Now, let’s release all of that and move back to that calm state we were in when the horses chose to come close: soft hearts, quiet bodies, and slow breaths. Then let’s take that a step further and be as still as we possibly can. If a thought comes in, ask it to go and get a coffee; you are busy at the moment. Be still. Do this for as long as you can. Stop reading, imagine yourself in this very field with this herd, and be still.
The longer you do this, the more you will start to experience the horse time frame of being. Human time eventually folds in on itself or disappears completely. You step out of our time frame of being and enter the natural world. What is it? It is the pure present moment. Our intimate bond with the horse lies here, in the now. If we can delve into the different concepts of time, we can connect with our ancestors and the horse ancestors. We can also feel the future generations of both species. In that deep stillness, time changes for us. The past, present, and future all exist here in this moment. When we connect with horses, thousands of years collapse together. Are we feeling the same breath on our cheek that our ancestors felt millennia ago?
We wait until now to explore this Time Frame of Being. This is very different for horses and modern humans, and it often takes a while for humans to get into a space where we can experience the equine horse time. Therefore, we explored the heart and body first to get out of our heads, slow the body and its functions, and be in a deep state of gratitude. Did you notice that the horses have moved slowly closer? We have put no expectations on them. We have asked for nothing other than to be in their field. They didn’t mind as there was much room for us all in the large pasture. They could move freely towards or away from us as they wished. We settled into a peaceful state, so they felt no threat from our presence.
If we start with the human time frame of being, we find a linear path. Time is measured. Time is the beginning to end, of a project, of a life. We watch the seconds tick by, and wonder where the time went. We stress when we don’t have enough of it or complain when we have too much. Time for humans goes from here to there. It is a destination. This generally raises our heart and breath rates (which are measured in time too), elevates our blood pressure, and overall, creates anxiety.
Two Bonded Herds
Now, let’s release all of that and move back to that calm state we were in when the horses chose to come close: soft hearts, quiet bodies, and slow breaths. Then let’s take that a step further and be as still as we possibly can. If a thought comes in, ask it to go and get a coffee; you are busy at the moment. Be still. Do this for as long as you can. Stop reading, imagine yourself in this very field with this herd, and be still.
The longer you do this, the more you will start to experience the horse time frame of being. Human time eventually folds in on itself or disappears completely. You step out of our time frame of being and enter the natural world. What is it? It is the pure present moment. Our intimate bond with the horse lies here, in the now. If we can delve into the different concepts of time, we can connect with our ancestors and the horse ancestors. We can also feel the future generations of both species. In that deep stillness, time changes for us. The past, present, and future all exist here in this moment. When we connect with horses, thousands of years collapse together. Are we feeling the same breath on our cheek that our ancestors felt millennia ago?
We have been in the pasture for a while now, and it is time to make our way back into the human world. Perhaps this is a good point to offer a gracious moment of appreciation to the horses for sharing their home and offering us new perspectives on these three ways of being.
When we connect with a herd that is asked nothing but to be horses, we are offered the space to explore the bond between the equine and human herds. We sit in their space and time. We share heart energies and body knowing. Until we experience the horse’s way of being, it is hard to explain the intimacy we feel in that present moment. Yet, when we are gifted all of those through a day with the herd in their environment, we understand something that is new and ancient at the same time: something that is wild and familiar, something that, if we let it, will lead us home to our authentic souls. It will lead us to the intimate bond that connects the heart of the horse and human herds. ~*~
When we connect with a herd that is asked nothing but to be horses, we are offered the space to explore the bond between the equine and human herds. We sit in their space and time. We share heart energies and body knowing. Until we experience the horse’s way of being, it is hard to explain the intimacy we feel in that present moment. Yet, when we are gifted all of those through a day with the herd in their environment, we understand something that is new and ancient at the same time: something that is wild and familiar, something that, if we let it, will lead us home to our authentic souls. It will lead us to the intimate bond that connects the heart of the horse and human herds. ~*~
