♘ So That We Can See - The Second Beginning | Chapter Reading

This is a story of echoes. A story of what is normal. A story of things that are real that we never see.  

A story of life, a story of time, a story of answers that can be found in the light.  

A story of discovery and mystery that the horses set out for those who are willing to look. For those willing to find and to see, what they didn't know was there to see. 

Mysteries, lessons and questions hidden in plain sight changing everything that comes next.   

This is the First Gift of the Horses 

So That We Can See... 





This is a journey for a lifetime, ready to fill our lives with wonder in discovering what comes next, beyond what we can see and know and touch with our understanding and our hearts today.

It begins when we can hear the echoes of the past, learn from the echoes of what was.

When we experience the haunting obsession in trying to find answers when it seems you are not even sure what the questions are.

I want to take you on a journey.

A journey filled with experiences that I have come to understand were always meant for you, as much or more than they were ever meant for me. My designated task, I now believe, is to share what happened, that which forever changed me. To share every strange twist and turn, the discoveries, the questions, to make you a part of it. To help you question what you thought you knew, what you think is possible—a journey of discovery, a mystery that has always been right here waiting for us to find.

Why do we so joyfully take the risks?

What is here with the horses that makes us so willing to put up with the odds of getting hurt? What idiot does this?

If you take up skiing, at least the mountain doesn't brace his shoulder behind your back to shove you off, flying into the clear blue sky, arms and legs spread, spinning wildly.

If you race cars, the cars don't go, "What do you mean stop?" and begin to accelerate faster and faster, racing wildly down the road completely beyond our control with us panic-stricken aboard.

Login to read and/or to purchase this course


I didn't know this is where it would begin, with a coal-black stallion appearing silently out of the mist.

I froze.

He appeared so suddenly it was as if he were a ghost. So silently, it would be easy to think he was not really there, merely a vision of my overactive imagination trying to make sense of the swirling fog.

I knew he was using all of his senses, examining me, scrutinizing me, not knowing who I was, and not expecting to find me, a human, here. I felt a shiver of fear creep down my spine, unsure of his reaction.

There are so many things in life I am afraid of. But somehow in the field that day, it had to be gone. All of it.

Don't misunderstand; I am never fearless. I was afraid. I was afraid as the black stallion surprised me in the mist. That fear froze me to the ground. I couldn't move as I stood there staring at him, waiting to see what he would do next.

In the fields, with these horses, I found something almost... magical, a place where something other than fear could be found. Time passed, and I often thought of that uncanny first encounter with the coal-black stallion in the fog. The beginning of a relationship that allowed me to become part of a herd as I returned time and time again. A place where I felt something unique, almost otherworldly.

It was an incredible opportunity to document their lives as if there was no human present. Although there were moments when I would catch one of the mares standing there, staring at me as if they were trying to figure me out and what my place was. But at one level, I was doing the same thing that they were. I was just accepting what was happening, as normal. I had come to just expect it.

This was my new reality.

Perhaps now you can begin to understand why I was afraid.

Especially when I said I was afraid... of you.

So now what? What was I supposed to do with all of this?

I was inspired. Transformed. Challenged. Humbled. And left completely mystified, wondering what was happening.

Experiences that make no sense. That shouldn't have happened.

Which is why, at the very beginning, I denied it even happened. Too fantastical to be believed even by me. Experiences that if someone else had told me had happened to them, I would have regulated to wishful thinking, to their imagination. To have just one of these experiences would be unbelievable beyond any kind of possibility. And yet... it happened. They all happened. The scary part... they kept happening.

I can't deny it anymore, not when I see the images, some of them captured in pictures, some of them caught on film, all of them documented.

These were not my imagination. They were real. Impossible to escape their reality no matter how much a part of me wanted to, especially when I have the pictures scattered lying here on the desk in front of me.

My new beginning, this second beginning, where my relationship with horses was so different from my first where instead of training, healing and riding, I was documenting their lives and trying to discover who they were without us, was wrapped up in an enigma, something that challenged everything I thought I knew about horses. Challenged everything that I had ever been taught, read, or heard about horses.

It left me with a mystery that I didn't have an answer for. The behaviour of these horses so outside the norm that I was so confused I didn't know what to make of any of it!

But what it finally did do, was make me stop. Full stop.

It made me pay attention.

In a strange way, it made me listen.

It was wonderful in one way, in another way, it was uncomfortable to experience.
Each new experience scratching against your lack of understanding, and the failure once again to understand, only driving the restless urgency to solve the mystery. While at the same time, at some level, you still doubt yourself. A tiny piece always wondering if it is just your imagination that there was more here.

Time is an interesting construct, allowing us to see things through its passage, giving us time to grow and understand what we didn't understand before. If there was no thing as time, we never would have patterns that we could recognize as we come upon them. But time hides its own mysteries that we sometimes miss.

For the most part, we accept that in our reality, time follows a certain path, that the past is past, the future is the future and we will get to the future through this moment that we are in, that we call now.

We think of now as something that we are in, in this moment. That is almost instantly gone, always ready to be replaced with a new now.

If we accept that time is linear, then those moments are gone forever. Lost in the mists of time.

In an unconscious universe, that would certainly be true. Without consciousness, awareness, memory, each moment that came before would wink out as if it never existed before.

Doesn't it? Wouldn't it?

So then one has to ask if there was no consciousness to remember past moments, is there a past? Did it ever really exist?

You would think that the telling of a story, the sharing of experiences, of a journey of discovery would be easy. You would just write down what happened in the order that it occurred. But what do you do when the order doesn't follow what we perceive of as time?

How do you translate the actions of a herd that allows you access as if you didn't exist?

When we look back through the gift of time, we can string together moments, perhaps realizing for the first time that while different, there is an echo at play now that we can see, now that we see them all together. Patterns that repeat, that show us truths that we didn't see before. And when we put these moments together, we can finally see that they are part of a higher truth that perhaps we didn't realize was there the first time through.  But a question waiting to provide us with a greater understanding when we found the rest. Here is one of the those patterns. Moments that didn't look at first like they had anything to do with one another.

I was back again with the herd along the stream, as the late afternoon sun sparkled and danced like white sapphires in the tiny waves ruffling the water as it flowed through. On this long day of summer, the soft golden light of the evening was still hours away.

Content with full tummies after a day spent grazing, the young adolescents can often be eager for entertainment. Never haltered, never held on a lead rope, never bridled, never saddled, free to be together 24 hours a day, bonds formed and forged, they spend their days together, in the warm sun, in the fresh wind, to live out their lives together. One can never be quite sure what their response will be when you come into their space, each day can be different.

When the grey and white mare didn’t follow me, it hurt even more. I felt so much grief in not giving this sweet mare the answer she was looking for. To not accept this extraordinary gift. For a long time, that was all I could feel. Pain, despair, grief.

Days later, though, I slowly began to question, and finally, it was my thoughts and not my heart that took charge wondering.

It can be hard to understand horses. Especially since we have no common form of communication. They are so very different from us.

For all of their presence, which we are always aware of, if for no other reason than their size, I don't think we realize how much we get from them is just silence. Perhaps just because we are so aware of their power because of that physical presence and that overwhelms us so much that we don't notice how much the rest of it lies in the quiet.

If someone has no words with which to speak, if you can't use words, it is what you do that becomes your voice.

Which was always true. Actions are truth because words can lie.