06/18/2026
There is a saying attributed to the Cherokee," "If you listen to your body when it whispers, you won't have to hear it scream."
As with many life truths, it offers profound guidance for our relationship with horses. If we would listen when they softly communicated, they wouldn't respond with strong and sometimes dangerous reactions trying to be heard.
But we've grown up and now live in a world where listening has been discouraged, even punished. We see kids who are restless and unhappy in school and we put them on medications instead of questioning what child would want to sit in a desk hour after hour. We have horses who buck or bolt, and we get new hardware to "control" them.
Our culture loves control, but we've forgotten how to listen. We can hardly stand to live in the quiet it requires.
We have to speak up, even if we have no idea what we are talking about. Quiet is awkward, unconventional, weird.
We have to advocate for ourselves for fear that someone might take advantage of us.
We don't want disrespectful horses, children, or partners—there is no place for listening.
We fill our minds with constant noise so we don't have to feel, so we don't have to listen to our mind, our selves, our intuition—so we can ignore it all.
And it works for a time, until it doesn't. And then the screaming begins.
The horse bucks, or bites—because we weren't listening.
The child acts out—because we didn't listen when they tried to tell us what they needed in a quieter way.
Our body screams—because we didn't rest when we knew we were tired, instead we downed another energy drink and we wonder why we feel terrible and why our bodies no longer want to work for us like we believe they should.
Our emotions beg to be given room to breath, but that seems weak and out of control, so we push them down and mental illness rises up.
I shouldn't be surprised, but I always am, that the principles that unfold in the time I'm working with and thinking about horses almost always have even more powerful implications in the human world.
This was meant to be a post about horsemanship, but the truth is, our relationship with horses is really about our relationship with ourselves and the world around us. The way we interact with horses is a mere reflection of our approach to the world at large.
If we would start to listen, to ourselves, to our horses, to the people we love; if we would would stop all the noise for a minute and listen to our intuition, then so much of the screaming would stop. The screaming that feels overwhelming and unending.
But that scares us, because if we listen, it might not be what we want to hear. If we listen we might not be able to claim control. If we listen, it might change us, and change is scary.
The mainstream horse world doesn't value listening (though I truly believe this is changing). Who, when they began their life with horses was ever taught, "Stop, listen to your horse. Don't go in with an agenda. Go in with curiosity." If you were, truly you were privileged because that is a completely different perspective from the loudest voices in the industry, where horses are lazy, disrespectful, should have no say in the relationship, and control is a foundational principle.
There are unending questions to trainers about how owners can change their horses, unending therapy sessions about how individuals can change their children, their partners, their life. There is theory after theory, and strategy after strategy that is rattled off.
But what if, instead of trying to take action, to fix things, to regain control, we stopped for a minute, and tried to understand.
What if we just listened?