Judgment

This is a hard topic to cover, because we all do it, have done it, and will continue to use judgment with ourselves and others.

Before I dove headfirst into my shadow work, I would portray the image of never judging, an open, loving, free spirited, non-judging human. But, I realized, when I would judge myself, I would judge others, and that façade wasn’t suiting my ego, because it was a form of avoidance.

This comes up a lot in the horse world. You use pressure and release? You’re not ethical. You use positive reinforcement? You just bribe your horse with snacks. You do dressage? You must only care about yourself and the picture you paint. Barrel racing? You must be chasing something you can’t have. You show your horse? How dare you want a ribbon for all your hard work. I could go on for days with these judgments I have heard, seen, and felt, and used.

I’ve had to figure out where I draw the line, and throw away the you statements. Do I advocate and educate with ethical horsemanship? Of course I do. Do I feel disheartened by the horse community when they are still using barbaric equipment and training practices? Yes. But what I’ve realized is there is a part of me that is judging my past self and judging where someone else is on their journey isn’t my place to determine where they are at.

I was that trainer that I cringe at now. I feel so much shame surrounding the way I used to work with horses. I am now working through that shame; I can acknowledge it. But this also isn’t any different than my interpersonal relationships that had no boundaries, no limits, and in turn I would go way over my threshold and randomly “explode.” I never did the work to be able to say what I needed to say, or communicate my needs.

I used to become escalated with the horses, because I felt they had negative intentions towards me. Lazy, stubborn, mare-ish, rude, disrespectful, always “trying to get away with it.” You know what I found though? I was putting all those adjectives onto the horse, when in reality, I thought that of myself and others that had hurt me, because I was and parts of me still are, unhealed. So I created that narrative.

I saw the horse as a way to burn off steam and to make ME feel better without tons of regard of what they really needed. Was I cognizant of this at the time? No, not really. There was a part of me that knew there was a better way. And I started to find it, searching for answers, piece by piece. Healing isn’t an overnight journey, it’s a commitment to a lifestyle with tiny approximations to shape a bigger behavior, a better you.

When I started to become aware and attuned to my ego within my horsemanship, I started to have an honest relationship with my shadows in trauma work. What did that look like? I started realizing that the horse didn’t have an agenda. I learned through scientific studies horses were not capable of pre-forming ideas with an agenda. What I discovered was that the horse didn’t have an agenda, I did. I didn’t fulfill my role as the educator to teach the horse what I was asking for.

That hurt.

That felt like I was a failure. I was useless as a trainer. I felt guilt for all the times I projected my anger onto the horse, “I should have known better.” At that time though, that anger kept me safe, that unknowing kept me safe, because I wasn’t ready to step into an informed role. Do I condone this? No. I believe if we know better, we do better. I have compassion for people who are still sitting there inside themselves.

Horses have this amazing ability of shutting down the things that cause them pain and retracting their feelings into learned helplessness. A response within their body, much to that of when they are being attacked in the wild by an animal. You know, that feeling if we are too in-touch with ourselves we might not be able to function?

We do it. We become overwhelmed and under-whelmed with our jobs, our home life, our day to day, because we have lost or never experienced a journey of mindfulness. Were we ever taught how to truly feel?

What is easier and safe is shutting our mindfulness down. If we don’t acknowledge the pain we hold, we don’t have pain. Our inner child is screaming for safety and we can’t keep them safe if we are working on parts that hurt so much. What I am here to tell you is, the pain of acknowledgement is really, really worth it.

Imagine your relationships that benefit you, for you. Relationships that feel safe and secure and mindful, all together. Serenity in knowing you really are doing the best you can on the track you’re on. Imagine a life not hating yourself for feeling jealousy, abandonment, insecurity, anger, and sadness. Those emotions will pop up, but when they do, you reflect instead of shut them down. And then, you learn something incredible about yourself. That is how you learn to love who you are, in truth.

I still have so much growth to do and learn, but I fully accept the challenge, because I have never felt more whole in my life.

Horses are the reason I’m here. I hope we can all dig deep into our shadow work, to learn and heal from one another. The horse community should come together, not apart, and relish on why we are all here, for our love of the horse.

Love & Light,

Emily