In Fields With Horses
by Elizabeth Boisson
In Fields with Horses by Lindsay McKinnon
They say that horses are clairvoyant.
Several years ago, I lost my home, all of my belongings, and my two children in a deadly house fire. This article is not about that. As a part of my healing process, I participated in an equine horse therapy program. My time at the stables was not about riding horses. It was about connecting and allowing our own process to percolate, using the horses as mirror images of ourselves. They became
representations of other events, people, experiences and concepts in our lives. It seemed to be a back door, metaphorical approach to accessing the deeper parts of ourselves that are seldom seen by others.
One horse, in particular, caught my attention as she was very anxious and pacing the edge of the fence line, desperately wanting to be on the outside of the fence. This horse reminded me of Patrick, my oldest son, and all I wanted to do was help it calm down, settle back into its body, and get grounded. I wanted to help ease the anxiety and do what I could to bring it Peace. As I stood near the horse it continued to pace back and forth. I could tell it didnʼt want me there. Twice it circled me. I just stood there feeling into its heart and speaking to her from my heart. No words, just presence.
Eventually, the horse slowed down but continued pacing. It was breathing deeper, and itʼs head hung lower. It gradually closed its gate, and then, dropped to its knees and laid in the grass on its side, head, and neck upright. I gasped as I watched her do this. I clenched my chest and started crying, as I had never had such a big and gorgeous creature lay down in front of me like that, and of course, I was thinking of my Boys. Inch by inch and trailing tears, I crawled on my hands and knees until I reached her. She allowed me to touch her hoof, her leg, her neck, and her head. I swiped the hair from her third eye and massaged her ears. As her brown eyes searched mine, she laid her head down into the grass. So, I did too. I slid my arm out and laid down on my side next to this beautiful, magical creature.
Her gaze completely pulled me into hers and there was this moment that I can not describe as anything other than otherworldly. She became a gateway between me and my Boys; for a moment, an enchanting, Divine and powerful moment, I could feel them with me. I was holding them energetically while we laid in the grass together. I wanted to stay in that moment forever. When it was over, it was over... but not really.
I'm not really sure what happened between me and this mystical creature, but I know it was special. I will continue to process it for the rest of my life. I was completely spaced out and totally discombobulated for the rest of that day. I couldnʼt form sentences to communicate thoughts. That kind of aloofness happens when we have spiritual experiences that take us outside of what we have already known. Memory and speech is a functional process related to the left hemispheres of our brains. It is associated with our linear and rational thinking minds. Experiences such as the one I had with this horse, opened and expanded my way of thinking, feeling, and being. The horse raised my vibration and opened a portal beyond linear and feelings and sensations. I wish I could live in that spot. I had an amazing and unique experience. But it was not just about me. It was not even about me and this beautiful horse. There were several other amazing and courageous women standing in that field with me, and several other beautiful horses. Each one peeling back the layers of rational thought and allowing themselves to feel the space inside of nature, to be in Communion with it all. Common. Union.
Together as a Community, we have the opportunity to lean into one another in the heart of seldom-seen transparency. Do you have the courage to share that with others? We can be in that field together and honor ALL of it. When I heal, you heal. When you heal, I heal. This is true of those who gather with horses. This is true of you, and this is true of me.
They say that horses are hypersensitive and clairvoyant, and I am so grateful they are. To be in their presence, to be fully seen by them and to be so taken in by them... I am on-my-knees raw with gratitude.
-Always, and in All Ways, Lindsay
© Copyright 2016 Lindsay Mckinnon All Rights Reserved