Yet, when the books have been read and reread, it boils down to the horse, his human companion, and what goes on between them.” —Walter Farley

One sunny morning I was working with a group of six anorexic women aged 19 to 35 years, some of whom also struggled with binge-purge behaviors. In the stall next to us, our miniature horse, Captain, was chewing on some hay. As I began to introduce the basics of the equine-assisted therapy group, one participant commented on Captain’s small size, to which my co-facilitator responded, “Yes, and he doesn’t even know he is small.” The co-facilitator had just spoken the key metaphor of our session, since each of the women lacked awareness of her distorted body images. This began our group session, using Captain to help bring the women increased insight into their eating disorders.

History of equine therapy

Equine Assisted Psychotherapy has been around for hundreds of years — just not under the name it holds today. The Equine Assisted Growth and Learning Association (EAGALA), one of the predominate supporters and educators in the field, describes equine-assisted psychotherapy as “a tool for emotional growth and learning.” This organization values the importance of the metaphor, and equine therapy is filled with metaphors, as well as healing opportunities.

In the early 1990s, Sierra Tucson became the first treatment facility to incorporate equine-assisted therapy as an adjunct to primary treatment. Since that time, several other treatment centers have followed suit by incorporating equine therapy into their programs to assist in the treatment of a variety of addictions and disorders.

Equine-assisted therapy incorporates the work of a horse professional and a licensed therapist. Most equine-assisted therapy is performed on the ground, not on horseback. It is not necessary for clients to possess horsemanship skills or any specific knowledge on horses — they don’t even have to like horses. Therapists incorporate exercises with the horse and the client to target behaviors and underlying emotions. One intervention I use is blindfolding to address issues of control and unprocessed fear. However, an exercise such as this requires the therapist to be very adept and to use careful timing.

Another exercise, developed by EAGALA founders Greg Kersten and Lynn Thomas, is “temptation alley,” which incorporates a maze that is wide enough for a horse to go through and is filled with temptations, such as a bale of hay or a bucket of water. The object of this exercise is to navigate the maze while avoiding the temptations — two individuals lead the horse through the maze, with another person riding bareback (Kersten, Thomas, 2000). This exercise is a wonderful and effective metaphor for clients who are dealing with potential relapse, and is among several that are used widely in the field and have proven extremely helpful to clients.

As an equine therapist, I have learned that it is generally more effective not to have a specific plan when I begin my sessions with clients and horses. By trusting in the horse, myself, and the client’s innate ability to move toward health, the healing process will unfold naturally. Often, the best laid plans for specific issues or groups do not happen; the horses will dictate something entirely different.

Jenny was in a primary group with seven other chemically dependent clients and began her integration into treatment in my equine-assisted therapy session. I brought Jenny and her group into the arena with three geldings and invited them to pet the horses. As the group split among the three horses, she gravitated, alone, toward the largest horse and began petting him. Soon, another horse approached her on the opposite side and Jenny found herself situated between two powerful male horses.

I asked Jenny to identify her surroundings — a difficult exercise for many clients, but one that forces them to explore how the lack of focus on what is happening in close proximity at the moment may represent their own lack of self care, dependency issues, recklessness, or even danger in relationships. Recognizing her position between the two geldings, I asked Jenny to tell me about the relationship triangle in her life. Jenny hesitantly revealed that the horses represented her husband and the man with whom she had an affair. Given the choice on how to respond to the situation, Jenny, who was exhibiting both shock and anger, said she wanted to leave both of them, and was able to walk away from the two horses. From there, we were able to process her behaviors — her childhood history involving covert sexual abuse by her father, her resulting sexual compulsivity, and her insight into how the affair exacerbated her use of alcohol and cocaine to medicate feelings of shame, guilt, and despair.

Sometimes I will begin sessions by asking my group to simply observe our herd of 16 horses and provide feedback on what they notice. It is very revealing to hear the interpretations, as they usually involve projection. People will describe the horse — its feelings and behaviors - as their own. Often distorted thinking styles are presented in the herd observation. For instance, many personalize a horse turning his rear toward them as rejection. This frequently begins the process of exploring that individual’s history of abandonment and rejection, and resulting chemical dependency, post-traumatic stress disorder, depression, etc.

The horse will engage in a behavior that results in bringing up a client’s issues. It is then the task of the therapist to invite the client to explore these metaphors. I have one particular horse who greets me at the gate every morning, pawing the ground, moving her head up and down, and pushing the gate chain with her nose. As herd animals, horses negotiate for their pecking order on a daily basis (Parelli, 1993). I know this mare is lowest on the pecking order, and that she is asking me to take her out of the pen for protection from the other horses. When I ask clients how they interpret her behavior, their responses vary. Their responses project what is going on in their internal world and include statements such as, “She is the boss,” “She is the one who is not afraid,” “She is angry,” “She is hungry,” “She is unfriendly,” “She doesn’t like me,” and so on.

I always tell my participants that they can’t do anything wrong in my sessions; how they show up with the horse is how they show up in the world. I explain to them that what they do here is what they do in the world, and if they would like to change we can practice that. Sometimes simply asking a client to walk a horse will reveal that person’s pattern of behavior in relationships. If I see someone staring at the horse the entire time they walk him in a circle, I might ask who they feel the need to check up on. Their responses may be, “my mother, my husband, my son, etc.” From there, I can invite them to practice new behavior — walking the horse again, eyes forward, head up; looking in the direction they are going. This provides intervention on dependency issues, and practice in letting go of control in relationships. The result is consistently a more relaxed walk with the horse, and a more effective mutual relationship. This can provide the client with insight into how attempts to control will result in more energy being expended with poor results.

The horse/human connection

Each day I marvel in my sessions at how a horse will act differently with different people. People often ask how we train horses for equine-assisted therapy. There is no specific training for the horses — the horses simply do what they do, and so do the clients. I continue to be awed when I repeatedly observe the horse respond to a client in a way that specifically targets his or her issue that yearns for healing. The way a horse’s brain functions impacts their relationship with each other and humans. Our brains consist of three systems — the reptilian brain (instinctual), the mammalian or limbic brain (emotional), and the neo-cortex (rational) (Levine, 1997). The brain of a horse is comprised mostly of the limbic system. Emotion generated by the limbic system provides a mammal with the ability to sense the inner states and motives of other mammals around him (Amini, Lannon, Lewis, 2001). As I have watched horse and human behavior, my understanding is that the horse’s limbic system, which conducts emotionality and ability to read intent in others, explains how the horse reacts appropriately to ignite an interaction that brings up the client’s unresolved issues.

In the field of equine-assisted therapy it is often explained how the horse will mirror back to the client whatever the client presents to the horse. This can refer to an emotional state or a problematic dynamic going on in the client’s life. My belief is that a non-verbal process occurs between horse and human that involves a horse being able to adjust its own physiology to match a client’s, which is then sensed by the client who, in turn, adjusts. Mammals have the capacity of “limbic resonance” (Amini, Lannon, Lewis, 2001). Limbic resonance is “a symphony of mutual exchange and internal adaptation whereby two mammals become attuned to each other’s inner states” (Amini, Lannon, Lewis, 2001). I often have observed our herd operating from this state, as horses communicate and transfer emotion through their internal world as well as body language and some sound. What horses lack in comparison to humans is verbal language and, sometimes, I will use this information in my sessions to assist clients in learning about healthy communication. I teach the combination of gentle, but assertive communication with congruency to gain effective relationships that result in needs being met.

The following is an account of an equine session that clearly illustrates how limbic resonance dictates the horse/human interaction. Sally arrived one morning to a group session verbalizing anger that it had been suggested she had a sex/love/relationship addiction. She reported entering treatment after having seven husbands and discovering that her most recent husband was a cross dresser. She also struggled with chemical addiction, and as she honestly disclosed her chemical dependency history and consequences, she added, “But you will never hear me say I am a sex addict.”

Since Sally had some horse experience I took her into a pen with nine loose horses and let her choose a horse to work with. All of the horses were male in this arena, and Sally quickly gravitated toward one of the strong geldings. As she haltered him and we began to process her feelings a second horse came and stood next to her. When asked about any significance in this she identified quickly that her history with men has always involved having a man waiting as she was leaving a relationship. She was bright and took to the metaphorical process quickly. I asked her to walk the horse she had chosen, and as she did, the second horse fell in line behind the first and, eventually, five more horses were walking in a line behind her and the first horse. When I asked her to stop and turn around she threw up her hands and stated, “There are my seven husbands! Okay, I give; I’ll work on the darn sexual addiction stuff.”

The intervention was perfect and the horses had provided it. My role was in making the decision to bring her into the all-male horse pen, and to feed back to her what I saw to help her gain insight. I believe this is a true demonstration of limbic resonance. Emotionality enables a horse to sense the inner states and motives of another (Amini, Lannon, Lewis, 2000). This is how horses communicate within their herd.

In some programs, clients are asked to choose a horse and engage in a grooming routine, followed by a series of exercises, such as leading or backing the horse. Often, these simple exercises are able to target the client’s presenting issues. A therapist will allow the client and the horse to create the scene to bring issues to the surface.

In working with a group of six chemically dependent male patients — all of whom had experienced some form of trauma ranging from sexual abuse to physical abnormalities — one client stands out. Tommy was less than 4 feet tall, and although he was very small compared to the large animals, I reminded myself to trust the horse, the process, and myself. I made an instant decision not to change anything about the way I would do group based on his condition or size.

The group entered a pen with three loose horses and the idea was for the participants to share their feelings upon entering the horses’ world. I stayed close to Tommy, who tired quickly, and suggested that we pull in a crate for him to sit on while he watched his peers do individual work. The group chose a horse to work with and then engaged in an exercise that involved backing a horse by using a lead rope and applying pressure from the front. Some of the work revealed boundary violations by others, incongruency, and manipulative tendencies. The interaction of horse and client is a wonderful diagnostic tool, and as each participant’s struggles were revealed and connected to his pattern of addictive behaviors, each was invited to practice behavioral change with the horse.

One young man was repeatedly pushed by the horse, which he identified as the way he was treated by his physically abusive father in childhood. This man was invited to stand up to the horse, set a boundary with the horse, and experience the power of saying, “No” and being heard. Tommy, who had been watching attentively, said that he wanted to try.

Tommy had helped in choosing the largest horse in our herd, Pockets, a large powerful gelding. He asked for my support in walking the horse, but was unable to get him to respond. I noted that Pockets’ response to Tommy was a clear, “No, I am not going to walk with you.” After several unsuccessful attempts to get the horse walking, Tommy grew increasingly angry and frustrated. I asked him about the familiarity of this experience and he began to connect this power struggle with the horse to his relationship with his father. Once he verbalized his feelings of anger, I asked him to try again, and the horse, without hesitation, walked with him. After asking for permission to back the horse, Tommy followed what he had seen his peers do and attempted unsuccessfully to back the horse. We processed what he was feeling and as his anger presented again, he elaborated on how his father does not accept him for who he is. After another unsuccessful attempt at backing the horse, Tommy, who was in tears, acknowledged that he often masked his pain with anger. He described missing his father, putting him on a pedestal, and feeling like a disappointment to his family. I then asked Tommy to come up with one sentence he would like to say to his father in a safe environment. He said, “Dad, let me live my life.”

When I asked Tommy to try and back the horse again, Tommy approached Pockets, looked up at him, placed his tiny hand on Pockets’ muscular chest, and repeated his statement to his father. He backed the horse about ten feet that time with little physical effort on his part. His peers and I congratulated him, after which Tommy burst into tears, looked at me, and said, “I am under 4 feet tall and I just moved a 1200-pound horse.” I explained to him that if he could move a 1200-pound horse then he could repair the relationship with his father, and recover from his chemical addictions. That metaphor stayed with Tommy for at least the remainder of his treatment, and I am sure it remains close to him today. Later, during his treatment, his parents participated in the family program, and the necessary healing occurred in these relationships with the help of supportive and skilled family therapists.

I learned a great deal that day from both the horse and Tommy, who taught me about courage and determination. Pockets provided Tommy with just the right amount of difficulty to allow his issues to present, and then when the frustration, anger, and hurt peaked, Pockets allowed Tommy to succeed. I could not have mapped out any better plan. I see this happen often with the horses, demonstrating their innate ability of how far to go with a client. For this reason, I often refer to the horses as the silent therapists.

People often ask me if the horses are trained to respond in certain ways. The natural progression of insight occurs because the horses are not trained in any special way for equine-assisted therapy. Any horse will work, except horses with severe behavioral problems. Some of the things I believe contribute to the horses’ efficacy in addiction treatment, aside from the limbic system being the major make-up of their brain, is that they are animals of prey. We often forget, due to their large size, that they are not attack animals, but actually have been preyed upon for 70 million years (Kidd, 1998). What this means to us as humans is that we are presented with an animal with qualities of hyper vigilance, keen sense of smell and hearing, and focus on the present. This awareness and attentiveness is lost for anyone active in addiction, but a horse needs these attributes for safety (Parelli, 1993). Horses experience a range of emotions, and as prey animals are particularly familiar with fear. They respond to fear with flight, whereas a human may respond by freeze, flight, fight, or all three. The horses’ are instinctively on high alert and, thus, are aware of their surroundings. This and their intuition and ability to read intent is paramount in their work with humans. As animals of prey, the horse will be scanning us for our intent to assess their safety in our presence. Horses also are social creatures, surviving as part of a herd. They need another horse, animal, or human in close proximity to thrive. Even the famous racehorse, Seabiscuit, had a companion who lived in the stall with him, providing what was necessary component for his emotional well-being (Hillenbrand, 2001). In spite of the tendency for some addicts to isolate, I believe that we too, need others to thrive. Watching horse behavior can provide insight into what healthy relationships look like, and how interaction within the herd maximizes individual safety.

Equine-assisted therapy should only be facilitated through a licensed therapist and a trained horse specialist, and I encourage anyone approaching this field to keep an open mind. Equine-assisted therapy is a highly effective adjunct to primary treatment. What has been helpful to me in my facilitation has been to trust the horse/client interaction, trust my instinct and intuition, and if I notice anything that doesn’t feel right in the sessions, regardless of my understanding of what it means in the moment, to question it. One patient I worked with provided me with the most rewarding thank you. He said, “You were willing to risk asking the questions, so I was willing to risk being honest and responsive.”

For me, the healing began a long time ago when in early recovery a major source of support was my horse. I have watched this horse change over the years, as I have changed, and I continue to learn from the clients and the horses. I feel privileged to be part of a magical encounter between horse and human, and whether I am working with an alcoholic, a sexual abuse survivor, or a client with clinical depression, the search remains the same for all of them - how to achieve some sense of internal balance. My experience has taught me that the horse/human connection is an effective way in which to assist these clients with invaluable clarity resulting in a move towards health and recovery.

Nancy Jarrell, MA, LPC, EAP is a licensed professional counselor and is certified as an Equine-Assisted Psychotherapist. She currently is the Therapeutic and Recreational Activities Program Manager at Sierra Tucson.

References

Amini F., Lannon R., Lewis, T. (2001). A General Theory of Love. New York: Vintage Books.
Farley, Walter. (1941). The Black Stallion.
Kersten, Greg & Thomas, Lynn. (2000). Equine Assisted Psychotherapy Training Manual Level 1. Utah: EAGALA.
Kidd, Jane. (2003). The Way of the Horse. New York: Howell Book House.
Harris, Moira. (2003). KISS Guide to Caring for Your Horse. New York: DK Publishing.
Hillenbrand, Laura. (2001). Seabiscuit. New York: Ballantine Publishing Group.
Levine, Peter. (1997). Waking the Tiger. California: North Atlantic Books.
Parelli, Pat. (1993). Natural Horsemanship. Colorado: The Western Horseman Inc.

This article is published in Counselor,The Magazine for Addiction Professionals, June 2005, v.6, n.3, pp.41-46.

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