The Horse as a Mirror...

Oct 5

5 min read

...BUT NOT IN THE WAY YOU MIGHT THINK

The idea of the horse as a mirror is deeply embedded in the world of Equine Facilitated Learning, Equine Facilitated Psychotherapy and wider equine assisted work.

It's also a phrase I have mixed feelings about.

There are people who believe horses directly mirror our emotions, behaviour or energy - that if we are anxious, they become anxious; if we are angry, they become angry; if we are tense, they reflect that tension back to us.

I'm not convinced it works like that.

For me, the relationship between horse and human is far more interesting and far more respectful of the horse than a simple reflection.

Do horses really mirror human emotions?

I don't believe horses are emotional photocopiers.

A horse doesn't automatically become angry because we are angry, or nervous because we are nervous. Nor do I think we can look at a horse's behaviour and confidently declare that it's a direct representation of what's happening inside the human standing beside them.

That risks becoming far too simplistic.

Every horse is an individual. They bring their own temperament, history, relationships, physical state, preferences, previous experiences and thresholds into every interaction.

A horse moving away may be responding to something about us.

Or they may be uncomfortable. They may be distracted. They may want to return to another horse. They may simply prefer to be somewhere else.

The important point is that the horse has their own reasons.

If we interpret everything they do as being about the human, we risk removing the horse from the equation altogether. Sometimes the horse is just being a horse!

So, why do we talk about the horse as a mirror?

Despite all of that, I still use the idea of the horse as a mirror - Just in a different way.

For me, the horse doesn't necessarily mirror us. Instead, they can hold up a mirror.

They give us an opportunity to notice what we bring into a relationship and how that might be experienced by another living being.

There's a subtle difference between those two ideas, but I think it matters enormously. The horse's response gives us information. It doesn't give us a diagnosis.

WHAT HORSES CAN HELP US NOTICE

When we work alongside horses, we can begin to notice things that are surprisingly difficult to see in ordinary life:

How do we approach?
How much pressure do we apply?
Do we notice when the other individual needs space?
Do we listen, or do we keep pushing towards the outcome we had in mind?
Do our words, body language and intentions seem to match?
How comfortable are we when the other person - or horse - makes a different choice?
Do we genuinely offer choice, or only the illusion of it?

The horse's response can bring those questions sharply into focus. Not because the horse is interpreting our psychology for us, but because we can observe what happens in the relationship between us.

That's where the mirror sits.

Horses can help us see how the way we show up might be experienced by others.

The horse shows us how we might be experienced

This is perhaps where Equine Facilitated Learning becomes particularly powerful.

Something that feels one way from the inside can look very different from the outside:

What we experience as confidence might feel to someone else like pressure.
What we describe as being helpful may leave very little room for another person to make their own choice.
What we think is calmness may actually involve tightly controlling ourselves.
What we believe is clear communication may not be especially clear at all.
And sometimes the vulnerability or uncertainty we worry about showing may turn out not to be a problem in the slightest.

The horse doesn't tell us who we are. But in relationship with them, we may get to notice something about how we are showing up.

That distinction is important!

CURIOSITY IS MORE USEFUL THAN INTERPRETATION

One of the risks in equine facilitated practice is the temptation to interpret too quickly.

The horse walks away - "You must be pushing people away."

The horse refuses to follow - "You don't trust yourself."

The horse becomes agitated - "They're picking up your anxiety."

Those interpretations may occasionally resonate. They may also be completely wrong.

Worse still, they can place the practitioner in the position of expert interpreter, rather than allowing the client to explore their own experience.

I'm much more interested in curiosity:

Curiosity about what might be happening for the horse.

Curiosity about what's happening for the human.

And curiosity about what's happening between them.

Questions worth exploring

What do you notice happening?
What changed?
What were you doing, thinking or feeling just before that happened?
What might the horse be responding to?
What are you noticing in yourself as the horse responds?
What happens if you try something different?

And one of the most important questions of all:

What else might be going on for the horse?

That last question keeps the horse present as an individual rather than turning them into a psychological assessment tool.

But the exploration doesn't stop with the horse-human interaction.

We can also become curious about whether something familiar is showing up.

Does this way of responding happen elsewhere?
What happens when someone doesn't respond in the way you hoped?
How do you react when you feel ignored, challenged or uncertain?
Do you increase the pressure? Withdraw? Try harder? Take over?
How might this same pattern appear in your work, leadership, family life or other relationships?

That's where the learning can begin to travel beyond the arena, field or stable yard and into everyday life.

The horse isn't providing the answer.

The interaction gives us something worth noticing - and something we can become curious about.

THE REAL VALUE OF THE HORSE AS A MIRROR

Perhaps, then, the horse as a mirror is still a useful idea - provided we're clear about what we mean.

Not: The horse feels what you feel.

Not: The horse's behaviour tells us what's wrong with you.

But rather:

In relationship with the horse, you may get to see something about yourself that was harder to notice before.

That might be the way you communicate.
The pressure you apply without realising it.
The assumptions you make about what somebody else needs.
Your relationship with control.
Your willingness to listen.
Your ability to notice boundaries.

Or simply the difference between what you intend and what another being actually experiences.

And that, for me, is where some of the deepest learning happens.

The horse doesn't need to become our mirror.

Their presence, their choices and their honest response are enough.

Sometimes we simply need someone - or something - to help us notice what matters.

As always, if something in this blog connects with something in you, please do get in touch for a chat.