A different horse woman

“Mitä näet tässä kuvassa?” Se oli hauska leikki, jota lapsena leikin mummoni kanssa. Mummo kysyi, minä vastasin ja sitten vaihdettiin. Mummo oli hyvin intuitiivinen ja taiteellinen, ja siksi viihdyin hänen kanssaan hyvin. Samaa leikkiä leikin tahtomattani nyt aikuisena, kun katson esimerkiksi facebookissa kuvaa hevosesta ratsastaja selässään. Joskus näen kuvassa hevosen, joka on kyllästynyt täyttämään ihmisen toiveita. On montaa eri valmentajaa, ja valmennusta, hienot varusteet, viimeisen päälle sitä ja tuota kuntoutusmetodia. Lukujärjestys viikon liki jokaiselle päivälle. Kuvissa poseeraa hymyilevä ratsastaja selässä. Kuva kerää tykkäyksiä ja sydämiä. Ihastuneita kommentteja. Taas toivoisin olevani kuten muut. Että kerrankin voisin laittaa sydämen ja hehkuttaa kuvan ihanaa tunnelmaa. Mutta ei. En vain voi. Olen se tylsä tyyppi, joka aistii ”liikaa”.

My gaze first attaches to the horse and only then to the human. The horse exudes fatigue for life and confusion about a million different trainers and methods. I see grief. And I just don’t see, but I feel it in my own heart as a pinch. I feel how a horse needs a presence, peace, a genuine encounter from a human. The horse's question to man is, "because you see Me?" I see a person trying to control everything and thereby structure their lives. Everything has to be perfect, and so that the illusion just doesn’t break, by controlling one somehow tries to keep everything together, especially oneself. He spends a huge amount of time caring but doesn’t understand how it affects the horse. He thinks about the horse’s well-being almost constantly and doesn’t realize that in reality it increases the horse’s nausea. I see good intention, the purpose is certainly not to produce suffering for the horse, on the contrary. But unfortunately, good intentions are not always enough.

I feel how the horse absorbs a person’s constant energy of concern and the twist is complete. There is always something wrong, and even if it is not, it will soon be, for the inevitable law is that what it focuses on will be strengthened. And then you wonder when the horse is sore again. These horses usually always have something. As long as the person wakes up to ask for help for themselves. Of course, a horse can be cared for, but if the person themselves is not aware of their own pain points and seeks support, caring for the horse alone will not solve the core problem, but is more of a patch. That is why I think it is important that both the human and the horse are supported. But of course, one must first realize that one needs support.

I feel a huge ballast on the human shoulders and around the heart of the armor. Lots of untreated emotions, running away from running. Sadness covered in a smile. The fear of someone seeing behind a carefully constructed shelter, and at the same time the tremendous desire to be seen as one’s own self, but not the tools and perhaps not yet the readiness to face everything that would be associated with becoming truly visible. I see shame, guilt, dissatisfaction — things that man may never have even admitted to himself. His life is a scheduled struggle for survival. The horse, as an incorruptible mirror, directly mirrors a person’s own space. Because he is willing to look at himself and the horse honestly? Again, I feel like I have seen and sensed too much. Why just couldn’t I be like the others? How easy it would be to just like and click on hearts.

I don’t mean to always see in the pictures something I don’t like, but unfortunately I often see a horse that isn’t really seen or heard. And a person who, for one reason or another, is unable to communicate with himself and therefore, of course, with the horse. However, it should be the very first piece that should be built before anything else. Before we actually do anything with the horse let alone get on our backs. And I feel that there will certainly come a time when horses will not get up at all anymore, but it will be wondered that this has sometimes been done at all. 

And even now, if we choose to get on our backs (if it’s really ok for a horse) I feel that a lot of time should be spent on the actual introductory phase. Not a few hours but dozens. Hundreds. Thousands of. But not in minutes. It is an absurd idea to me that we could say we know what a horse wants from our cooperation while getting on a horse that is completely foreign to us. It still feels very disrespectful to me about the horse today. 

Why couldn’t we spend time getting to know each other, making a real connection, being present, keeping quiet, and listening? However, isn’t building a relationship of trust that’s the point? The answer is often that it is scary. We are not used to it. It requires us to be completely disconnected from old ways, expectations. It really requires us to stop at the essential, the state of being. It requires total silence. Surrender to the moment. It requires us to listen sensitively to what is happening in us and in the horse. And most frighteningly, it requires us to look honestly in the mirror. What does the horse tell us about us here and now? We wouldn’t always want to hear, so we shut ourselves off from the real connection. Fortunately, a new, more listening way to be with horses is also becoming more common. 

Anxiety is also an impulse for me, an ignition. There is a need to create - write or paint. As my wise life partner Mikael said when I was once again pained by the situation and cried out for my difference: “Think that these images are brought before you for a reason. Because they make you feel so big, it’s about big things. You are clearly on the verge of what is essential. On the verge of important things. If you didn’t see these pictures from time to time, you might forget why your gifts are needed here, at this time. You are different, for you must be. ” Those words made me think. While it is very difficult to live with my sensitivity and clairvoyance, it is also a gift. I know I have to be that boring guy at times. A different horse woman. Just because of myself. And most of all - because of the horses and their people.

Finally, one thought: what if we treated horses the way we hope to treat ourselves? Not humanely, but respectfully. Taking into account the horse's species-specific needs. Would we hardly have to move the created animals in the pens and square orchards then? What if we got to know the horse, that delicate, intuitive animal, even more deeply. We would dare to face ourselves with the support of horses. What could it open up for our lives?