The more and more horses I work with for the Horses of Us project, the deeper things seem to go.

I have discovered that I often hold back from telling the whole story I get from some horses. I guess I don’t want to share what I don’t entirely understand. Maybe that’s the point though. To take the impressions and images from the meditation and just laying it out without my own human filter.

Since I was a small child, I knew that horses talked to me. Not in words but in ideas and impressions. I’ve had many experiences that I can’t explain. Like the time a vet told a horse’s owner that her horse was colicking and needed to be put down.

I got an impression, looked at the horse, and discovered he had a bladder stone blocking his urethra. The vet didn’t see it until I told him to look. I’ve got many examples of less life threatening examples to share. Like the time a small Shetland pony sent me an image of her small owner racing across the field to hug her.

Let’s meet Twilight.

Before I started with Twilight, I ask her a simple but profound question, What message do you want to share about yourself?

A series of contrasts came to my mind— light/dark, exploding/silent, power/shriveled and smart/dumb. Then she said she wanted to speak and I saw a series of images.

I’ll describe what I saw from her perspective:

I stand at the corner of human reality. Which way does it go? I don’t ask this.

I see you in your bright moments of harnessing my power. I watch you and I know what you want. I feel it.

Light or dark it comes to me. You don’t see well. You miss the small moments, the feeling in the air. I don’t.

Sometimes I see the exploding fear, hurt, and regret. You try to comfort me for your anger. You want me to perform for you.

I want you to feel like you. I am smart and you are dumb. You can’t make me feel like you.

I will never shrivel up and forget my inner light.

The river cuts me apart from my body. My mind flows even if my body doesn’t. The river is a marker, a signal.

A sign of healing of body and mind. I canter with the sweet sound of silence in my mind. I feel flow, movement, and freedom.

You should canter too.