The Art of Listening
Because you can't hear if you're thinking too loud ...
The Premise …
When I was in my twenties, and my horse, Violet, was young, I was working her on the longeline, as customary, to begin a career under saddle. (“Long(j)ing” is working with a horse in a large circle around you on a long rope, or “longeline.”) She had always been a bit of a “spicy” young thing, so I typically worked her this way with the chain end of the longeline hooked around her muzzle in order to maintain control and obedience. Never as a means of harsh punishment, but it was forceful, and most likely, uncomfortable, at best, and I wouldn’t do this now. But at the time, it was common, and probably still is.
Anyway, on one particular day, I received a very clear image of Violet working quietly without the chain. I stopped what we were doing, considered the unusual (to me) communication, and promptly removed the chain. We then went back to work in the same fashion, minus the chain. She did beautifully and we never used the chain again.
The above is just one example of the stories I have acquired over the many years of handling horses. It’s an example of trusting my gut – my instincts – and paying attention.
Violet was then two years old. She is now 27. She is still spicy and opinionated, but also sweet and aware. She and I have spent many years developing a deep and trusting bond built by and communication and her strong willingness to forgive my shortcomings.
And so …
In “human” life, it has been brought to my attention that I interrupt and interject in conversation a lot. I must admit, I am aware of this bad and annoying habit. What’s interesting to me is that I don’t do it with the horses. Or do I? I mean, not that they speak to me, or have conversations in human language, but horses definitely communicate. You just have to pay attention. I thought I paid attention, but now wonder, how much of the conversations have I been missing?
Sincerely.
KJ