Embody Mental Health

Posts Tagged ‘horse’

“The place where you made your stand never mattered. Only that you were there… and still on your feet.”

Stephen King

Since I returned from Sonoita I have been assessing my emotional state, feet first.  There is a very pointed reason for this.  A wise horsewoman and trauma survivor with a casual penchant for qualitative research pointed some really profound things about the nature of the foot and reading body language from the toes up.  In all my time focused on somatics I had never given much attention to the foot–almost none.  But I met someone who spent her life’s work noticing the nuances of human and equine body language from head to toe and with a very finite lense on the feet.  In traditional psychotherapy the feet are not a focal point but in horsmanship the foot, where it is, the angle, the flexing and all, are the language in movement between horse and rider.  So, of course, the well-versed horsewoman Shelley Rosenberg has been spending a career looking at feet in a way that I, as a therapist, never would have thought to–she can read the language of the body in a completely different way than I and, it seems, feet have been speaking especially loudly to her.

Even at a distance her acute vision notices things like toe curling in a boot and feet flexing on tippy toes.  She tells me this as she notices my toes curling in my own Mountaineer size 7′s as I sit with some dis-ease atop Max–an elderly white horse who is teaching me a lot about what my body is saying to him.  She tells me that she noticed her own toes doing this while standing, walking, or crossing her legs as a sort of last stopping point for trauma or tension trapped in the body.  She found that even the trauma survivor that had peeled back all the other layers and evaporated all the other clenching of muscles seemed to linger at the toes–hanging on to that one last muscle of control and space to prepare for danger.  A person’s whole body could be lax, she tells me, but she can read what they are really feeling with one glance at their feet.

Until she mentions it to me I don’t notice my own toes clenching, unfamiliar with the back of a horse and the gait of a trot, I had ,unknowingly, clenched my last bit of muscle and flesh–hanging on when I didn’t even realizing it.  But since she pointed this out to me all I can do is realize it; I am assessing my life in steps and flexes.  And finding it to be amazingly accurate on a personal case study level.  I am beginning to explore myself and my emotions…feet first.

I was discussing the other day the ripples and waves that are created in the self post-trauma and post-PTSD.  I have shed the PTSD of my self and have been lifted to a beautiful place where I can explore this life after Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  In the process I am attuned and aware of my “self” at a new level of clarity.  In this awareness I am learning more about the ripples after PTSD.  I am exploring those things that linger in me that are nowhere near that of a DSM-IV version of any disorder but are, what I can only describe as, the ripples and aftershocks; the behaviors and responses in body and mind that have to be undone after years spent in a state of constant fearful survival, raw and empty all at once.

This exploration of my sensory responses and my emotional sensibilities through my feet is another layer of that onion of aftershocks.  Now that I am thinking feet first I have found my toes to be a very accurate barometer of how I am feeling, even below my own first glance interpretation of myself–at the layer below conscious or superficial self and down to the muscle and bone, “subtle self”, if you will.  I wonder what we all might discover about ourselves if we spent a little more time in our toes–also the place of grounding and centering and rooting into the earth.  In yoga I have spent much of my time for myself and for students exploring rooting into the earth with every toe, from heel forward, but in psychotherapy and daily life I have paid it less attention.  Now I find myself starting in myself, in my patients, and in general, eyeing the world feet first.

Take a look down at the ground and see what you find!

//

The modern airplane creates a new geographical dimension.  A navigable ocean of air blankets the whole surface of the globe.  There are no distant places any longer:  the world is small and the world is one.

Wendell Willkie

Well, maybe not my life but definitely the last month feels like it has been more in flight that on the ground.  I have been flying and flying and flying and between plane changes and 24 hour turnarounds between trips I find myself contemplating the excitement of what my next beverage will be on my next flight–seltzer or tomato juice or tea, oh my–or who my intimate plane seat companions will be.

Heading from NJ to Palm Beach in April after giving a training “Emotion In Motion: Yoga for Trauma Survivors” I sat next to a woman with a flying phobia who downed two Bloody Marys while asking me questions like, “How do you think this heavy metal can stay in the air without careening to the ground?” and “What does it mean when the plane shakes like this?”.  We discussed breathing and grounding methods, although she seemed to prefer the liquid courage to my techniques and I gave her my card, at her request, before we disembarked.

On the way back from my sister’s college graduation in NJ heading to Ft Lauderdale I found myself next to an elderly Messianic with loose teeth which, mid-nap, mid-flight, and mid-drool, accidentally lost their grip on the gums they were held to and his dentures flopped suddenly onto his shirt.  Later in the flight as we were landing he asked, “Young lady, what do you do for a living? I saw you scribbling the whole trip.”  I had been engrossed in my audio from the IAEDP (International Association of Eating Disorder Professionals) Conference and was writing down notes, apparently copious enough to rouse even my dormant elderly seat neighbor.  When I told him I was a therapist he proceeded to disclose, quite loudly, that his nephew sitting in the seat in front of us was dyslexic and had “a lot of problems”.  He also discussed the mission of the masons to give money towards good causes in anonymity to avoid accolades saying, “We do good but we don’t need or want people to know about it.”  My husband assured me later that, that is because free masons run the world; if running the world means anonymous donations to good causes then I will take more of that in the world–although perhaps with a little less of the denture mishaps.

Waiting for my delayed flight back again at the West Palm Beach airport, eagerly anticipating my Equine training in Arizona, I took a moment’s reprieve on the $1.00 massae chair tucked behind the newstand.  The 10-year-old boy gleefully “riding” the chair next to me like it was a carousel asked if I was a teenager.  I replied, “I am a little bit older than a teenager.”  The boy’s younger brother came running over and chimed in, “She’s not a teenager!  She’s a mommy! You are a mommy aren’t you?”  I tried to explain that I was not a teenager or a mommy but apparently the delineation of any role between teenager and mommy didn’t compute to the 10 and under crowd.  I left before I had to pick on category between the two.

The West Palm Beach flight finally took off and upon landing in Fort Worth/Dallas airport (the first leg of my journey to Arizona) a toddler sitting in the row in front of me lifted his hands in the air emphatically and shouted, “All done!”  Although I was not done with my flights for the day, I still had an hour wait and a flight to Tucson ahead of me I was definitely “all done” with the plane delays and the uncomfortable position of being in the person in the  middle seat which was code for “one-who-gets-no-arm-rest”.

Flying back from Arizona I met a melange of interesting characters between 3 airports and a 3 1/2 hour layover in Dallas/Ft Worth I met a woman traveling from Sierra Vista , AZ to go to her grandchild’s graduation and asked me (when I told her I was a therapist) if there is such thing as sex addiction.  I met woman flying to New York to visit her boyfriend and about to move across the country from Arizona with her children in a month to live with him on the east coast.  I met a trainer of airplane pilots who flies for free and asked me about real estate in South Florida as he is beginning to plan for retirement.  Oh, and a little British boy who had way too many “sweeties” in his system and could not stop making noises like a Halloween wind-up toy: “Wooo hooo hooo haaa haa haa!”

So I have been in a haze of rumbling engines, condensed air, tray tables, and iphone records for the past month.  Turbulence, turbulence.  Prayers, prayers.  Complimentary beverages and in-flight yoga stretches.  And passing the time with the vocal stylings of talents like Marsha Linehan (creator of DBT, zen& centering prayer enthusiast), Bessel van der Kolk (trauma guru), Andrew Weil (natural medicine titan), and the cast of the Integrative Mental Health Conference, Psychotherapy Networker Symposium, and IAEDP Conference (all great performances if you can get them on audio).  And, yes, I am a nerd.  While others are listening to jazz, country, pop, or musicals I am listening raptly to the rhythm of psychological exploration and the melody of theory and practice.  Hence the psycho-nerdish scribblings my Messianic neighbor astutely observed.

One training given, one training taken, and one sister’s college graduation attended–all respectively amazing and profound in their own wonderful ways.  I am finally just sitting back and absorbing the sum total and taking the time to breathe–between having seen a client in North Palm Beach, running to teach a yoga for trauma class in Lake Worth and then back to Delray to discuss potentially giving some educational programming on Centering Prayer (Christian contemplative practices) in my local spiritual community.

So, between trips, starting a new job, and 3 weeks of a monster of a bronchial sinus illness, the blog has been so sparse!  I apologize sincerely and promise that beyond a few new interviews on their way, some great activities I am so excited about on the horizon, I have a whole series I will be dedicating at least the next few weeks to but probably about a month in total around equine therapy, yoga, passion, and an amazing experience in Sonoita, Arizona with SHELLEY ROSENBERG, NANCY COYNE and my lovely group members for this training DEB, CATHY, and ANN.  I am excited about this new leg of both my cerebral and visceral journey and to explore the profoundness of this trot into the new with all of you!  I will begin with my first post tonight or tomorrow but in the meantime please feel free to look back at the preceeding equine posts to get in the zone .

HORSE & YOGA POSTS ROUND-UP…

Equine Enamored: Adventures in Equine Facilitated Psychotherapy

http://myembodiment.com/2009/10/25/equine-enamored-adventures-in-equine-facilitated-psychotherapy/

Present Moment Living: Horses, Yoga, Therapy & How They All Come Together

http://myembodiment.com/2009/11/23/present-moment-living-horses-yoga-therapy-how-they-all-come-together/

Yogic Equus Part 1: Finding the Yogic in the Equine

http://myembodiment.com/2009/12/07/yogic-equus-part-1-finding-the-yogic-in-the-equine/

Yogic Equus Part 2: Horse as Metaphor for Relationship

http://myembodiment.com/2009/12/14/yogic-equus-part-2-horse-as-metaphor-for-relationship/

Horses & Finding Freedom

http://myembodiment.com/2010/01/28/horses-finding-freedom/

Q&A with Nancy Coyne, MD:  Trauma Therapist, Yogini, and EFP Practitioner

http://myembodiment.com/2010/02/28/q-a-with-nancy-coyne-md-trauma-therapist-yogini-efp-practitioner/

Q&A with Shelley Rosenberg: Horsewoman, Author, Trauma Survivor

http://myembodiment.com/2010/03/03/qa-with-shelley-rosenberg-horsewoman-author-trauma-survivor/

“A lovely horse is always an experience…. It is an emotional experience of the kind that is spoiled by words.”

Beryl Markham (British born Kenyan Horse Trainer)

  

In the realm of wordless moving arts, therapy with the aid of horses adds a rich additional component–relationship.  And through that relationship there are an infinite number of metaphors that can be found, cultivated, and mined when being able to work with these mystical creatures in the aid of healing trauma and emotional pain in people’s lives, hearts, and souls. 

There is a deep rupture to the self that trauma induces–we are hesitant to trust the world and the people in it when we have been traumatized.  Our natural fight or flight mechanism is ignited and our impulse is to avoid, isolate, distance from human connection. 

This is why the horse is a powerful ally in rebuilding the capacity for relationship in those who have lost faith in the capacity for the unconditional nature of love and have forgone trusting relationships with others.  A horse does not judge or betray it just is–and as I discussed in the prior post YOGIC EQUUS PART 1 the horse is able to be in the moment and present with us in the most yogic of ways. 

At the same time, if we are not present, honest, true, and confident in the present of our equine companions then we lose the connection between human and horse and we lose our place in the horse’s present moment.  That is to say if we the human cannot be calm and assertive, present and attentive, then the horse will respond by not responding to us.  And in this connection and connection lost is an amazing metaphor for someone, in a therapeutic way, to find where they falter in their relationships, connections, and ability to stay present, conscious, and grounded in life.

The findings of this may be painful, frustrating, angering, and more but in the rich well of emotions and behavioral responses one has to finding a break in their human-horse connection a person might learn more than they ever thought possible about how they relate to the world and the humans in it.  And in the context of human-horse (in a land without judgement or betrayal) a person may learn to heal their wounds, mend the ruptures, and break the patterns that plague their human-human life. 

In a brief amount of time I have learned an unimaginable amount about the human self from people’s interactions in a therapeutic relationship with their horse.  I have learned so much about myself as a person, as a therapist, and as a yogini–about where I am and where I want to go.  I cannot wait to explore further into this rich metaphor of the horse and find where, on the wings of pegasus’ decendents, humans can find new layers of healing–body, mind, and soul.