On the Hoof

In the third encounter Klaus had with the horses something else magical seemed to happen. The weather and the rail strikes that made up the backdrop of our journey meant that this took place a few months after the first encounter (see Klaus part 1).  In this third encounter, after my initiation routines had been accomplished, Klaus turned up and we went into the arena where I invited him to practice fitting the head collar using my own head, hands and neck fashioned to the shape of a horse's head. He was a little surprised by the idea, but overcame his hesitation and figured out how to manipulate the pieces of knotted string to secure it on another body, in this case mine. While we were thus engaged, the five horses present today began a slow walk down from the top field and came right into the arena where we were.  I knew Klaus was eager to experience a communicating connection with a horse in this, his final session. But the horses first of all had to organise themselves in ...

Sharon Wilsie's Horse Speak is about learning the language invented by horses, the language they themselves use to communicate with each other. The following vignette is from one of the first sessions I held with someone whilst I was following a course in equine facilitated psychotherapy (EFP), and shows how I made use of the Horse Speak that I had thus far learned.  I arrived at the venue in advance of the session and prepared the space. I deliberately walked the central fence line, touching the fence, inspecting the environment, making sure it was safe and secure. The horses were as far away as they could get, in the furthest field from the house, and somewhat screened from view by hedges and trees. Nevertheless, I glanced up towards them – small dots though they seemed to me from where I was – and when they looked in my direction, I raised my arm and head towards them to acknowledge them.  As I walked up the path, I picked up a foreign object from the ground, touched the fe...

  Oberon and Puck  Half a lifetime ago, I was a research fellow in a technical university, employed to investigate the 'human factors' in computer software engineering. It was the early 1990s. Email was just becoming available to university staff. No one I knew owned a mobile phone. But video cameras could be hefted around on your shoulder, or stood on a tripod – they were large, heavy things. Everyone owned a Walkman. My boss had started out as an engineer, but had become fascinated by sociology. His wife, Jacquie, worked in a healthcare setting, and she was using video cameras to film the interactions between mothers and their young babies. The babies had been diagnosed as deaf or hearing impaired. She was using the video camera to film the interactions, then playing back the film at slow speed to show the mother what was happening. In most cases the mother had tried to initiate an interaction with her offspring, but had thought the baby hadn't connected, so she had moved...