Equine Feng Shui

On Friday, my husband and I experienced a session of equine therapy. It was his birthday and through a convergence of various people, I had heard about a place called Acres for Life, about an hour north of the Minneapolis area. I thought it would be a fabulous experience for him to celebrate not only his birthday but also a new shift in his career. I was not prepared for how mind-blowing and enlightening it would be for both of us.

I have done a bit of horse-back riding over the years so, even though I knew going in I wouldn’t be riding these horses, I figured I’d be pretty comfortable with the whole idea. What surprised me was the paralyzing awe I felt once I got in the pasture. It was hard to know what came over me, but I felt I was in the presence of masters, everyone of them. On the outside they were slowly and steadily grazing, hardly noticing me standing there, yet I knew I was dealing with something other than my normal life.

After a couple of exercises to get comfortable with the horses, the therapists dragged out a bunch of poles, barrels, stools, rope, etc. Our assignment was to build our own little space within their space, using any or all of these tools. This was, to say the least, the ultimate Feng Shui conundrum. Rather than maintain a respectful distance while standing in their pasture, I had to make a "home" for myself, mark my territory in some presumptuous way. This was a blatant desecration of Feng Shui protocol that states you walk lightly in someone else’s place, leaving no footprints behind. But an assignment was an assignment and the therapists were waiting.
I began dragging things around laying them here and there, creating a semblance of walls. I left the front open so I didn’t seem too overtly rude and uninviting. I’m busy hauling and shoving poles around when a black horse is suddenly standing in my space. He came in through the "front door," magically appearing as though out of nowhere. He assessed what I was doing and began to re-arrange a few things, nudging some of my "walls" with his nose, lifting up one light-weight pole with his mouth to make sure I understood it didn’t belong there. We talked and laughed and, of course, I helped him move things where he wanted them. When it was all just right, he stood there for a bit, while we basked in the final results. The therapists were smiling from the sidelines, furiously writing things down on their clipboards. Then he slowly turned and meandered out through the front door.

If I ever felt like dropping to my knees, it was at this point. The therapists came running over exuberant at the interaction; my husband had left his own little creation of space to join the experience. I was, of course, concerned I had upstaged his own birthday celebration. But, in that moment, watching my equine buddy amble away I knew I had to re-think the Feng Shui protocol about infringing on another’s space, I had to replay the moments of playful interaction, of moving my walls, of being in the moment. In five minutes, he touched on issues that were real for me. I was indeed in the presence of a master. And, as it turns out, my space had been blessed by magic----literally. One of the therapists revealed that the horse’s name was Magic.