Equuality: Reflections on Life with Horses

Thoughtful Ahimsa

About the Book

Do not take counsel of your fears. –General Barry McCaffrey

Today I was given the opportunity to inspect one of the horses in our program and give an opinion on his condition. He had come up lame shortly after being taken in on lease by one of our students. Last week we had some supportive shoes put on him to try and ease the tenderness in his feet. Today, we needed to evaluate whether they were working and what should be done with him.

At first, opportunity was not the word I would have used to describe the situation. I felt like it was a job and I wasn't happy about being asked to do it. Luckily, it appears some mindfulness has been building, because I quickly realized that I wasn't unhappy about the task. I was simply fearful.
              I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to see well enough what was going on with the horse. I was afraid that, even if I could see it, I wouldn't be smart enough to make a good judgment. I was afraid to ask for help because I didn't want to look like a fool. I was afraid that everyone would find out that I'm really not as great, as smart, as amazing with horses as my ego wants them to think I am. So, I was afraid that I wouldn't do a good enough job, and my mind's reaction was to label the whole idea as "bad."
              

In traditional Eastern philosophies, there is a concept called Ahimsa. Literally, this means something like non-harming or non-violence. Ahimsa calls us to think, speak, and act in ways that are positive, rather than negative. We should compliment the success, rather than rebuke the failure, hug rather than hit, and have compassion rather than pity. At the most fundamental level, Ahimsa asks us to realize and that in any moment we are all doing the best that we can in a challenging world. When we acknowledge that fact, acting in a non-harmful way is our natural inclination.

Non-harming asks us to practice non-violence in action, speech, and thought. On the day I was ask to evaluate the progress of our lame horse, I realized that my mind was running rampant with my fears and actually turning them into attacks on myself: "You don't know enough about lameness to say anything worthwhile about this horse," "Everyone is going to find out you're a fraud," "You're an idiot and you're going to make the wrong decision and hurt him even more!"
              This self-flagellation not only hurt me, it become violence against others. "I'm so mad at her for giving me this dumb job to do," "I shouldn't come out to the barn, I just get stuck doing jobs I don't want," and so on and so forth. Even if we don't say these things aloud, they show in our energy and poison those around us.
              As we begin to really listen to the thoughts that drive us, we find fear behind the curtain, pulling the levers. We may be afraid that acknowledging our fears will bring them to the surface and give them more power. However, the opposite is true. Shining the light of our awareness on our dark places chases away the shadows like opening a curtain to the sun. Once we understand this and allow our fears to be revealed they begin to dissipate and fade away. 
              

As I see it, the entire notion of non-violence starts in our own hearts, with the practice of being loving towards ourselves in all moments, especially those when we feel the subtle talons of fear wrapping around our guts. It is in these moments that we find the opportunity to learn the truth: that the counsel of our fears leads us away from the path of love.