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 of us who are willing to go look.

For those willing to find 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... 

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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

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

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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?

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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?

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

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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To come back day after day, one almost feels transported, as each day, although unique, seems an echo of all the ones that came before. The very colour of the light in the sky informs, and you know where they will be, what they will be doing.

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It felt like I had been chosen to be given a gift of unimaginable proportions.

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Hearing these words helps.

"Makes absolutely no sense."

"Cannot possibly have understood."

"Just completely strange and counterintuitive."

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Okay, so now that you understand the basic idea of entanglement, the other concept we need to understand before we look at this infamous double-slit experiment is the idea of light being able to exhibit two different characteristics, both as a wave and a discrete particle called a photon.

Rather than get into a fulsome discussion of waves and particles, waves or particles, or waves only, which is a long-standing, ongoing argument between scientists, it will speed things up if we just accept that for the purpose of the following experiment, we accept Einstein's premise that "it seems as though we must sometimes use the one theory and sometimes the other. While at times we may use either. We are faced with a new kind of difficulty. We have two contradictory pictures of reality; separately, neither of them fully explains the phenomena of light, but together they do."

"The physicists of the period. They could but make the best of it, and went around with woebegone faces sadly complaining that on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, they must look on light as a wave; on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, as a particle. On Sundays, they simply prayed."
— Banesh Hoffman - The Strange Story of the Quantum

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I was back once again, taking pictures of the herd by the creek. And while these horses were far more inquisitive and a little more used to people, yet surprisingly they never let me close to the napping foals. Here in this herd, what had become common in another, never happened here.

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This last experience with the entire herd, this is the one that disturbed me the most. The one that stopped me in my tracks as I struggled to understand.

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Can we be this person?

“There is one feature I notice that is generally missing. … It’s a kind of scientific integrity, a principle of scientific thought that corresponds to a kind of utter honesty — a kind of leaning over backwards.

For example, if you’re doing an experiment, you should report ‘everything’ that you think might make it invalid — not only what you think is right about it; other causes that could possibly explain your results; and things you thought of that you’ve eliminated by some other experiment, and how they worked — to make sure the other fellow can tell they have been eliminated.

Details that could throw doubt on your interpretation must be given if you know them.

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I spoke about the frustration and the struggle to understand but never spoke of the joy—the joy of discovery.

Why drive yourself crazy looking for questions if those questions drive you mad when you can't find the answers. Why lead that kind of life to start with.

I think, in part, this is why I love horses so much. Because here with them, the questions never end. No matter how many years, hours you spend, there is always, always, something else to learn. And this is where the joy is. The delight in coming to a new understanding. The joy in learning something new. A life lived for those moments of 'Ohhhh, now I get it.' I love those moments, and I get that rush all the time in a lifetime of making the horses at the heart of it.

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When I was young, I think I fell a little in love, maybe a little more than a little, with Mike a newly awakened life, from the book The Moon is a Harsh Mistress by Robert A Heinlein.

Mike laments people are stupid.

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Trusting others with yourself can be troubling, difficult. Learning to live a life of discovery has the same difficulty. Because there is no way to know who will take what you reveal of yourself against you. In all likelihood, actually, if our experiences on social media and politics are any example, we can be assured there will always be those who will use anything they can against a different viewpoint.

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This land where these horses lived changed quickly once winter finally released her grip. I am not sure there is a spring here.

It seemed the land, knowing how little time there was here, rushed straight into summer, where green quickly replaced the white. Yet, when I first moved here for many years, all I could see was dreary.

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I was done for the day. The light had begun to change from the soft glow of the rising sun to the stronger, starker light of approaching noon.

It had been a good day. The foals conked out on the ground, the mares content, content enough to wander away grazing as I lay down in the grass to get some last shots of sleeping foals.

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I didn't know, didn't understand. A decade has passed, and just now, I see the truth that was always there to see. I took a piece out of the book, and now I realize I have to put it back. Because it speaks to the truth that I didn't see/missed.

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These horses are so incredibly alive. These horses that live in herds left to their own devices. Their sensitivity, their awareness, their openness to being aware of everything is invigorating.

I think that is why I feel so incredibly connected to life and nature when I am in the fields with them, and the opposite is true when I am with other horses.

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I look back, and I wonder would any of this have been possible if circumstances hadn't been exactly right. Seeing how the why I was there set up the circumstances so that what came afterwards was possible.

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What follows would never have happened if they hadn't already raised my awareness to another level. And this story is not one I would have ever shared before if I hadn't discovered how I needed to live in utter honesty. Because again, I would be afraid that I wouldn't be believed, at the least dismissed, at the worse mocked for what I am about to share.

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A single cell cannot do what an entire body of a cat can do. And yet that cat is nothing but a collection of individual cells.

A single synapse in our brain cannot hold a thought or a memory. Cannot see the subtle shadings in the sky as the sun begins to set. But put together many synapses and everything changes.

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The horses had surprised me with behaviour that I found unexpected, different and sometimes outright baffling.

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I see now just as something in me had to change; something had to be different in these horses. Different than other horses.

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Funny that I couldn't see this at the time when it was so patently obvious. Did I not say over and over, again and again, that I wanted it to be as if I didn't exist. I wanted the horses to act as if I wasn't there. I didn't want to influence them in any way.

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When we see ourselves in another, we delight as we find a friend, as we find family, as we find our way home. Sometimes the other can be someone who looks just like us, and we see something in them that reminds us of us, and so it is easy to think here is a new friend. But sometimes, the other is another spark of life that somehow we connect to, even when they are very different from us, at least on the outside looking in.

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Meditation is about becoming quiet, reaching a place of quiet where our thoughts, concerns, worries finally rest and no longer define us.

While many agree on the benefits of meditation, there is no doubt that many find it difficult. Find it difficult to take control of unruly thoughts that love to sneak up on us, thoughts that bounce and rattle around, another one always ready to join in the fray. Difficult to try to find a place of quiet, a moment of peace in all of this.

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Why I didn't know, but from the very beginning, I had a sense that somehow in this place, in this space, the voice would be the intruder, would be out of place. So I was always silent. Which is a very different experience. I don't think we realize how rarely we are. We are rarely completely silent, and thus we miss the importance and the opportunities of silence.

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When we meditate, we are told to quiet our mind.

What are we trying to quiet it for? What are we trying to hear?

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"There is a very clear difference though for all of the similarities between meditation and the focus that we can achieve on the horse, and that is where our energy, our hearts, our awareness is directed.

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Strange to think that you can stumble into a practice of meditation without your awareness.

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We now think that there might be twenty-five or more senses, so many ways for us to record to take in what we are experiencing. But our awareness limited because that is what awareness is, forever limited.

We started out long ago as perception. Back when we started out as single cells. We perceived our environment through our membrane skins filled endlessly with receptors. Our receptors connecting us to that which is other than us. Us lives inside the membrane, other than us lives outside. The only connection between the two, the perceptions we received because of the receptors in our skins. There was no thinking there was only experiencing.

Somewhere along the way, an evolution occurred.

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"We can scream into the darkness, but it means nothing unless there is something out there that can hear you. That hears your voice, who hears the you who is true. And hearing you... answers back."
From As My Soul Began to Quiet it Could Hear

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If we were to pick one single thing, one single element above all others, that we need to protect from the very beginning, to minimize the harm that we might cause to the horse, there is a little bit of irony, that just as it turned out that the ultimate lesson is about us being able to see, it turns out the same is just as true for our horses.

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Anytime we limit the horse, when we limit who he is, when we limit, however inadvertently, the energy that is him, we take away who and what he should be, and in the process, we take away a part of us.

We do the same when we unthinkingly take away from ourselves or from each other.

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For years I struggled to understand why the horses let us do the things that we do to them. I know you are probably tired of hearing that phrase about my struggle to understand, but it is true. There was so much I didn't understand... and today, I think I finally found one more answer.

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"But it was a very, very long time before I came to realize that I needed to find the patterns not just here in the second beginning, I needed to go back much further. But it would be a long time before I saw this, realized this, and because of that, I missed so much for a long time to come." from the Chapter Echoes are Patterns.

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After I first wrote what is written below I noticed the pronoun we rather than I. "If we can help you..." And so I asked myself, who is the we?

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"Movement is a language. It wires our brain, and our hearts and maybe even our souls.

Healthy, free-flowing movement brings joy. And to experience it together that sharing raises our connection, our consciousness of each other even more.

Unhealthy limited movement shuts down the soul of the horse, his heart, his joy and his interaction with us and others around him.

To respect the purity of movement, to support it is to allow the conversation to begin." From Movement is a Language

What is language? What is its purpose? Is it not to share what is inside of me with the inside of you? To bridge this divide between us?

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"I now believe that none of this would have been possible if I hadn't set myself the task of wanting to project that I did not exist, that I wasn't there.

In the process, the horse's taught me. They taught me how to control that which was me. That which flowed from me. They helped me not just to become quiet but to be quiet.

We climb aboard his back, and our success is measured by our ability to feel what his body is doing. In the field, it is much the same. But here, it is different because it is never just one, and it isn't just the horses we find ourselves drawn to.

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This was where the journey took me. It brought me to the concept of Kjrsos. I lived where I had learned that I was on a journey. A journey of discovery. That I had some very wise and patient guides. But in the discovering came a burden. It took where I was in life and said, you can't do that anymore.

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I remember one wise old horseman I met when I was in my twenties. He was 95 years old, and what he told me were perhaps some of the most important words that anyone has ever said to me about what it was like to be a horseman.

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I think part of our problem is that we keep diminishing the horse, see them as somehow less than us. And with that as a belief, then what can they possibly have that can be of value to us?

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When we begin to understand what is possible, we can train teachers to become mentors, create classes that facilitate your own awareness of what is happening. The lessons within lessons that, once you are aware, are there that can exponentially advance your potential, and perhaps most importantly of all, support the horses so they can fulfil their destiny as your wise guides and impish counsels.

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I don't know if, along the way, you caught the dichotomy of the story as it was presented. It took me a while to catch it, and I am the one that wrote it, so I am not surprised if you didn't notice.

When I did notice, I got stuck. I got lost trying to figure out what was going on.

We, the horses and I, told you a story, a story of how in the quiet, the horses came.

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"In the infinity of life, all is whole, perfect and complete.
I go from success to success and glory to glory.
All is well in my world..." Louise Hay

For me, these were words of power.

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For me, it started with the horses, for you perhaps somewhere else.

But we need to take the lesson of quantum mechanics and realize that this is something that doesn't just exist in an experiment on light. That we need to live a life in a world where we allow possibilities to exist. Where we remove those limitations that don't allow possibilities to be a part of our lives.

And that means we have to discover how we limit ourselves. How we limit our horses and other lives around us.

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If you have never played with possibilities before, it can be difficult to envision how any of this makes sense.

How can we incorporate possibilities? And how can possibilities somehow interact and be the beginning of something more, especially when we try to bring it into our everyday lives?

In this ongoing journey, I have to admit I don't yet fully comprehend, but I have seen the potential, a glimmer of what is yet to come in the things we do in the every day.

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I spoke earlier about how "My mind doesn't work the way it once did...

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Life.

A miracle. Even today, with all of our knowledge, even our scientists can't explain it.

How does life come to be?

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I have struggled with the concept of consciousness. Struggled to find a definition that made sense. Struggled when I heard others refer to levels of consciousness, wondering if there was really such a thing? I mean, you are, or you are not conscious at some level, seemed the right answer. Although there would be those who would point out, would not a dog be more conscious than, say a rose?

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The one thing I hope you will not forget is that these stories could not have been told if it hadn't been under a living sky.

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[Note you can experience this chapter transformed with music and images.  Just go to Disconnected Children~ From a Disconnected Earth and if this touches your heart feel free to share, as we have made this page publicly available for everyone, hoping some will hear and help us, help children experience and reconnect to their world,  or alternatively, continue reading below.]

I stand on the side of a hill, a path inviting me forwards, aged aspen graces the space to my right, towering on the incline above me, the delicate deep red stems of dogwood fall down on my left to the water below surrounded by an endless sea of spears of the ubiquitous bulrushes that skirt every pond for miles around. The path forward twisting and turning into mystery through the trees.

I know as I climb, stepping up and down the twisting path that ahead will be a break where still water rests, and one of the few beaver dams in the area can still be found. And as I follow the silence, delighting in the whisper of the leaves, the dance of the golden light through the limbs and the trunks of the trees, my heart is at peace and yet.. and yet, I feel pensive, a moment of melancholy as I realize that I may be one of the few humans on this planet to ever see this space.

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Go to university or spend time on the internet, and you can spend years learning all about the amazing discoveries of scientists from all across the globe about the world that we live in. It seems that in every field, there are new breakthroughs as we delightfully explore this world and our existence in it.

And that is wonderful, but we've lost something along the way. We've lost discovering, exploring nature for ourselves. So instead of learning to admire the few wildflowers that still grow in the ditch, we have children sitting at their desks learning about photosynthesis and the complex mechanisms of how a plant takes the energy of the sun and turns that into chemical energy.

Students are given the process by which carbon dioxide, water, and sunlight are used to produce glucose, oxygen, and water. They sit at their desks as the teacher at the front of the classroom writes the chemical formula on the board.

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Then God said, "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth." So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them. And God blessed them, and God said to them, "Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth" (Gen. 1:26-28).

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There are places and spaces all around the world that are seen as different, special, filled with an energy that we recognize. It has always been so. These places are where somehow, in that moment, we feel closer to the beauty that is life on this planet. It doesn't have to be a special place like Stonehenge; it can be a small garden or a single majestic tree that, when you are there, you feel something more, something magical, something almost spiritual. It can be in a very gentle whisper barely felt, barely heard, but in our hearts, we feel something that we know is true.

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None of what is here is new. None of it, in a way, should come as a surprise.

Because you've felt this.

You've experienced the truth of this.

You know this to be true both in your heart and in your spirit because long before I spoke these words, you have lived this.

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Which comes first? Awareness or connections? I would speculate that awareness comes first. But they are so interconnected, I think it is difficult to say for sure.

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The horses provide us with answers and direction.

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When we limit who we are, what we are, what we are possible of becoming, unfortunately for the horses and for this world, we end up damaging that which is around us unthinkingly.

We hurt ourselves, something that is a part of us, or at least something that was once a part of us, as we unconsciously retreat from what should be, what can be, and we end up hurting ourselves unknowingly, limiting who we could be.

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Powerful Words. I kept saying I didn't understand, couldn't see the message of what the horses were trying to show me, and now in this moment, I can.

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So if what the horses are doing is helping us to see, what do we call them?

What do you call someone who helps you see?

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I hope I found the right words so that through these events, you could see.

From the very beginning, the task I set myself was to tell these stories in such a way that you could feel that you were the one who was experiencing them. So that you could feel, see, wonder, and struggle with what was happening and in the wondering begin to understand that there was something here.

At the beginning, I was so sure I was writing the book for you. At least that was what I always thought. And, now I am not so sure that is true.

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So, where do we go from here?

So many dreams, so many possibilities exist.

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When we started this journey together, I mentioned how echoes can teach, and I am sure you wondered at that.

"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.

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

When we discover how echoes repeated can teach."

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What happens when you bring together consciously aware curious individuals who explore together looking for the next discovery, looking for the next important question?

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Once again, we take the same pieces, the same story and change the ordering or the emphasis, and again, we can see something new.

As you read the following quotes and thoughts that are scattered throughout the book, see if you can catch what I missed. One more thing that I didn't see that was so obvious, but once I knew it was there...

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The hardest part of this book, it turns out, has been the ending.

How do you end what isn't ending? How do you end what is unending? How do you end what has so many different potentials yet to express? How do you end, when all you see are so many new beginnings, so many new possibilities, new potentials that are just waiting to be explored.

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If you are one of those that likes to skip to the end because you just can't wait to find out what happens, reading what follows, you might think you understand, but you really can't.

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I dream.

I dream of a place. I dream of a place, and I struggle. Because part of me wants to help you see, what I see, in my mind's eye. How I can see, feel, taste the breeze of this place as if I am standing there right now. I close my eyes, and I can see soft hills undulating, hiding ponds where deer leave cloven hoof prints like tiny hearts dotting the edges along the water.