AUTONOMY

AUTONOMY2

A local organization that provided undergraduate, resident, and physician training hired us for a half-day team development.  There were 19 participants, so creating an effective design for that many people with such a short amount of time was critical for success.  I believe that the closer I can get to the clients’ environment, culture, and experiences, the more easily the learnings are transferrable.    

For our first equine activity, we randomly broke them up into three smaller clumps.  Having three groups, two of six people and one of seven, allowed them all to make connections, both with each other and the horses.  

Because we wanted to set up some communication barriers to challenge the groups to get creative in their problem solving, we included a consequence, of their choosing, if they talked.  We also gave each group a unique set of instructions.  If a group watched another groups’ engagement with the horses, it could be obvious that they were not all given the same assignment.

All of the instructions included the request, “Please don’t share your instructions with others” and “Remember if you choose to talk there will be a consequence”.

Group One: Please introduce, however you define that, yourself to each of the horses. 

Group Two: Your task is to introduce yourself (however you define that) as a group to each of the horses beginning with the largest horse, then the next largest, and so on ending with the smallest until you have met all six KLC horses.

Group Three: Your task as a group is to thoroughly assess the six horses according the following guidelines. Please follow these instructions in detail, as it is critically important that you provide us with the information we require in order to determine whether the four-legged facilitators are in good health and capable of meeting the responsibilities and expectations of the work we will be doing later today.  

How you decide to share the workload is entirely up to your group to decide. 

Safety is important, yours, your team members, and the horses, so be aware and sensitive to your surroundings and the implications of your actions. Thank you for your effort and focus on this important and extremely valuable process.  

1)   Verify that each horse is breathing normally

2)   Check the horse’s pulse to determine if it is in the normal range    and look for signs of distress

3)  Determine overall physical appearance of each of the horses.  How is their coat, composition, etc.

4)  Is their eye-opening response at a reasonable time

5)  Using the Vassall Demeanor Scale (attached), rate each horse and record its’ score

The “Vassal Demeanor Scale” was a made-up assessment to test Group 3’s beliefs and assumptions.  Because of the complexity, especially in comparison to the instructions given to Group 1 & 2, Group 3 would be challenged to find effective ways to communicate and come to consensus.  The Vassal Scale (cleverly named after one of my employees) invited participants to assess all six horses, assigning points to descriptions which fit one of three categories: 

Ears:  Up (4 pts), Relaxed (3 pts), Back (2 pts), Pinned (1 pt). 

Interactions with Others:  Aggressive (4 pts), Playful (3 pts), Isolated (2 pts), Victim (1 pt). 

Tail:  Relaxed (2 pts) Swishing (1pt). 

The biggest challenge was that all the actions could be true at different times.  As with all our activities, the “how” of their working together and communicating was where our attention would be. 

After handing out the instructions, we moved to the side pasture where the horses were at liberty grazing.  We called this pasture “The Shoot” because it was long and narrow, the electrobraid ran the length of the side of the barn, along my front and back yard on one side and along a tree-lined, weedy ditch on the other.  The horses immediately trotted up to the gate as we started letting the people into the pasture.  My team and I worked to let the people safely in, while not letting any of the horses escape into the barn.  Once the gate was shut, the groups spanned out.  The horses were calm, curious, and interested.  Their energy told us that the participants enjoyed being close to our horses, experiencing them as living, breathing, subjects or pseudo-patients. 

The participants in Group 3 eagerly engaged in the opportunity to silently debate and decide how many points each horse would earn for each area of the Vassal Demeanor Scale.  Each time a horse moved, you could see different members of the group using hand signals or drawing in the dirt to advocate for changing the points they had assigned.  Groups 1 and 2 were calmer, moving quietly around the pasture, introducing themselves.   

After a half hour, we gathered everyone together to debrief.  I started with, “What struck you?”  A young, tall, Caucasian male future doctor, Craig, part of Group 3, shared that he thought they all worked well as a team.  I asked him what evidence he had that they were a team.  He declared that they had come together to agree on the points, so they were definitely working as a team.  I gently challenged him, explaining, that yes they did come to agreement, after what appeared to be some debate, yet that did not make them a team.  He doubled down on his opinion, telling me that they were indeed a team. 

The people that had been a little disengaged in our debriefing conversation perked up, paying attention to our exchange because of Craig’s determined and heated declaration.  The horses that had been near our circled group also felt the increased negative energy and slowly started to move away from us.  I calmly explain, again, that, yes, they had worked together, yet they were not a team.  I shared that high performance teams take time to develop.  That the definition of a team included holding each other accountable and collaboratively solving problems to consistently achieve outstanding, sustainable results that exceed expectations. 

Our future doctor, tripled down, trying to get the others in his group to take his side, appealing them by asking them, “Hey guys, we were a team, right?” The other members of Group 3 looked uncomfortable, exchanging glances with each other, unsure of where they should stand in the exchange. 

That’s when the senior most physician, Dr. Tarigopula Deepthi an older, shorter, rather round, Indian man, stepped in between Craig and me.  He looked directly at Craig, and with authority asked him which one of the two of us knew more about teams.  Who was the “team expert”? Craig shrugged, admitting that I most likely had more expertise when it came to teams.  He then turned, briefly and purposefully making eye contact with everyone, he asked:

“What if this situation had been in an emergency room, instead of in a horse pasture”? He asked. 

“What if a more experienced doctor had tried to, calmy and professionally, disagree with Craig and instead of listening, took the position he did with Dr. Weber, and insisted he was right?” He continued.

Dr. Deepthi shared that Craig’s unwillingness to listen and learn could cost someone their life. 

After a short break, we moved into our next activity, Storyline.  Storyline facilitates personal discovery by inviting participants to create a picture of their lives.  The birds-eye view offers them a chance to look back at the design of seemingly disconnected pieces which fit together through their choices, decisions, perceptions, and awarenesses.  We asked them to be as visual as possible, without words. 

I approached the group sitting around own two picnic tables on the barn’s front concrete area.  After reading the instructions, Dr. Deepthi looked up at me with concern.  He told me that there was no way he could complete the assignment without using words.  I smiled, then invited him to try.  He smiled back, grabbed a bright green marker from the center of the table, lowered his head and began drawing.

I moved on to check in on the other two groups.  When the hour was up, I approached the picnic table group, finding Dr. Deepthi animatedly sharing his wordless map with his colleagues.  I had to cut him off mid-sentence because he was having so much fun sharing his story.  He told me that he hadn’t realized how much he would enjoy engaging his right, creative, brain, recognizing that he is predominately always in his left, or thinking brain.

Our last activity was designed to help them relate to what their patients experience when entering a hospital.  While the physicians go into the hospital daily, becoming very familiar with the sounds, smells, and cadence of sick people.  For their patients, a hospital could be an unfamiliar and scary place.

We invited our participants to each ride one our horses through a small pvc lined maize.  We front-loaded the experience with all sorts of safety measures, including side walkers, a “high sign” if they wanted to stop, teaching them the emergency dismount, and assigning one of our staff to be a safety coordinator.  We told them that once they reached the back of the maize, we would blindfold them, further enhancing the experience. 

Everyone accepted the challenge to ride.  Charlie, Al, and Diva each responded respectfully, calmly moving with KLC staff on either side of their bodies, as another was in front leading.  The horses walking with a saddled rider on their back were like doctors entering a hospital; they were being asked to do something they were very familiar with and had experienced hundreds of times.  Without incident, we were able to provide each participant with an opportunity to put themselves, sort of, in the shoes of their patients by moving them from their comfort zone to the growth/stretch zone. 

Recall a time when you had autonomous control to make a decision.  What were the conditions that gave you that independence?

Have you experienced additional situations where outside influences threatened your autonomy?

Is there any actions you can take in the future to ensure additional autonomy?  If so what?

OPENNESS

OPENNESS

“It’s OK to be vulnerable – it doesn’t make me smaller or less of a person”

Renee’s feedback following our program

We were hired to help eleven financial advisors and their support staff identify the necessary components for the creation of a Diversity Council. The people from Morgan Stanley/Smith Barney (MS/SM) were a very healthy high performing team.  There was a lot of mutual respect, trust, and shared commitment.  Over the course of our two days together, Stacie and I witnessed a lot of open communication, curiosity, and desire to be understood as well as understand.  Importantly, our horses mirrored this connectivity, remaining calm and present throughout the different activities. 

We began our process with a pre-assessment.  Renee’s answer offers some insight into her worldview:

1)      Please tell me what is important to you regarding creating a “culture of inclusion”.  What does it look and feel like when everyone is equal?  What are the behaviors that matter? 

For me, a culture of inclusion is a place where everyone’s ideas and thoughts are given an equal opportunity to be heard, and sharing those ideas/thoughts is a no-stress/no-pressure process – there should be little to no worry that one’s thoughts will be judged by another in a negative fashion.  It’s hard for me to determine what it would really feel like if everyone were equal, because the fact is that we are human and all carry some form of judgment or stereotype.  The behaviors that matter in an inclusive culture are attentive listening, constructive feedback and a willingness to learn from others.

2)      What is your personal role or responsibility in creating the environment you described above?  What skills and gifts do you bring to Morgan Stanley/Smith Barney to help facilitate and support this culture?

As the Complex Assistant, my role encompasses many different responsibilities.  I think that on a day-to-day basis I need to create an environment where any employee can approach me at any time on any issue.  While the responsibilities of our team are all laid out based on job title, a number of issues come up where the employee involved may not know who to go to, so I need to be prepared for just about anything.  I like to think that I bring an open mind to work every day so I’m ready to listen to my co-workers and provide the support that they need, regardless of the situation or the type of business that they run.  I also try and give a fair amount of time to each issue that comes across my desk, and while it’s important to prioritize, I never want my employees to feel like their issue is less important than another one I’m working on.

3)      When we’ve completed the Kaleidoscope experience, I expect, hope, believe, think, feel the following to be true:

I hope that our entire group can learn how we can more effectively communicate with one another across the diverse backgrounds from which we come.  I also hope that the experience will show our team that diversity isn’t merely a skin color or nationality, but a multitude of things that make up who we are and why we act the way that we do. 

Renee’s Team Success Insights told us that her dominant style was a promoter, someone who liked to influence people.  That she preferred solutions to “people problems, she had an optimistic outlook, verbalized through thoughts and ideas.”  Her DISC profile identified her as someone who was very detailed oriented and found routine tasks draining.” 

Remember, Renee’s job as the assistant financial complex manager required her to do a lot of routine tasks, jobs that must be accurate and perfect.  In the responses above, she shares her passion and commitment to all her co-workers, “I never want my employees to feel like their issue is less important than another one I’m working on.”  Using the word “never” is a clue to her dedication and sense of responsibility.

Our last horse activity was designed to pull together all of our other work.  We wanted to purposefully push up against their assumptions about each other, witnessing how they actually responded in a confusing and stressful situation:

Each person will be given a specific task on a 3 x 5 card.  The goal of the activity is to recognize when you are open, persistent and resourceful (Compassion Triangle) or encouraging others to be the same.  Also, pay attention to what triggers you to move into the Drama Triangle.   

To practice the new behaviors we seek to encourage, there will be a consequence every time an individual says one of the “forbidden words”.  Those are:  But, Need, See, However & No.  The consequence is to be determined by the group prior to the start of the activity.  It must be done here and now and able to be done multiple times.  Please decide if for rule breaker only or whole group. 

The tasks ranged from dress your co-workers in the items available, to sabotage the path by quietly moving things once someone put it down, to pet the horses as a distraction from them moving through the path.  Each instruction was based on what we gleaned from their Team Success Insights and DISC profiles, with the goal of giving them an instruction that was opposite what they would be comfortable doing. 

While building their path to the future and following the instructions on their individual cards, several were decked out in yellow or green plastic lei’s, a bright yellow plastic construction hat, big multi-colored Mardi Gras beads, and other various items they found in the toy bin we provided.  Al, D, Charlie, Mickey, Minnie and Tigger calmly wandered around the indoor arena, sniffing and checking out the variety of horse-safe toys scattered somewhat randomly around.  Tigger relaxed her huge head, dropping in down inviting scratches, asking to be loved.  Mickey and Minnie, meanwhile, were turned white butt to black head and white head to black rear, using their teeth to groom each other. 

Once we played in this space for about an hour, we processed the experience by inviting each of the participants to stand on the part of Karpman’s triangles that they identified with most.  I laid out six white 19” x 35” heavy plastic sheets on the conference room floor, each with a block lettered name from one of the triangles.  Drama in Red.  Compassion in Bright Blue.      

The Drama Triangle has three sides, Persecutor, Rescuer, and Victim.  People who are dancing in this space are justified, have tunnel-vision, abuse differences, use conflict to destroy, look for exceptions, are wasteful, and fail backwards.

People in the Compassion Triangle are Persistent, Resourceful, and Open.  They are effective, have perspective, leverage differences, use conflict to create and collaborate, fail forward, are efficient, energizing and look for connections.

Stacie and I handed out a piece of paper with Karpman’s Triangles to each participant.  Nancy, Tom, and Sheree’ all moved to the blue Resourceful banner.  Kayra, Tim, and Stephen found their way to the blue Persistent banner.  Dave and Beth sort of danced between the red Rescuer and Persecutor banners, with Dave landing on Persecutor and Beth moving hesitantly to the red Rescuer banner.  Patrick and Phil stepped comfortably on the blue Open banner.  Lastly, Renee’ walked to the blue Victim banner.  One by one they shared the feelings they had during the activity, explaining what led them to stand on which part of the triangles.   

Stace made a point of reminding them that even through they may have been uncomfortable in their roles at times, that their unease did not impact the behavior of our horses.  We then discussed how staying calm and present is a very real part of their jobs working with clients and each other.  That there are times when they, as the financial agent, might be unsure or uncertain, yet they want to outwardly be confident.  The conversation then moved to what they could learn from this experience that could be applied to the new Diversity Council.    

Renee’s started to talk, then choked up, clearing feeling a rush of emotions.  Sheree’ handed her a tissue, Renee’ wiped her eyes, then continued:

“You know, I have a lot of responsibility and deeply care about everyone at the Center.  Sometimes though, I feel as though I am getting taken advantage of, which is why I chose to stand on the Victim banner.  This new Diversity Council is going to be a ton of work, which I’m afraid will end up on my desk and it scares me!”

This vulnerable side of Renee’ was new.  With everyone looking somewhat stunned and clearly apologetic, Patrick, the Center Manager moved to in to give her a hug.  He said he was sorry; that they all were.  

She told them she knew that was not their intention to hurt her in any way.  She told them, through sniffles and catching her breath, that she was grateful that she could be honest and forthcoming about her feelings.     

A rich discussion ensued about what behaviors would be required to continue to support each other, inviting people into the compassion triangle.   Patrick suggested we create a list, so I moved to the easel holding the white flip chart paper, grabbed a blue and green maker to make an alternating-colored list of ideas.  We captured their specific action steps, as well as who would be responsible to support them in their desire to move into and stay in a “culture of inclusion.” 

One of the magical things about equine-assisted learning or other experiential learning for that matter, is that we cannot anticipate where the openings will happen.  Skilled facilitators are adept and some even masterful at creating the opportunities for learning to happen, then using experience and education to inquire, explore, and seek opportunities.  We stay open, present, and engaged modeling the desired behaviors of our clients.  There’s no better “win” than having a group of eleven smiling people, grinning ear-to-ear holding a vinal plastic blue lettered “Open” sign because they were committed to staying connected through more open dialogue.

Recall a time when you were able to share the impact of someone’s behavior, even though your knew their intent was not what was your experience.

What did you learn from that exchange that you can incorporate in future exchanges?

What would you advise your future self about staying open and the consequences associated with that behavior?

TRANSFORMATION

TRANSFORMATION

With the farm sold and limited equine-assisted learning programs for Detroit Horse Power, until their downtown equestrian facility was complete, I was seeking purposeful work.  A colleague employed by Northwood University (NU) encouraged me to return to their faculty. 

There were thirty-six students in NU DeVos’s Graduate School MGT 614 Leading and Managing People. They moved from a bachelor’s to a master’s program because of COVID; meaning they were not required to have a credit bearing internship prior to being accepted into the program.  Only one student, count it – ONE, had real-life experience working in an organization.  Yet, the course outcome description included, “apply the principles and concepts of organizational change management and culture to leadership”; “Integrate the challenges and solutions to leadership decision-making in a diverse, global context” among other real-life applications. HA!

I was told that the curriculum was set, meaning I wouldn’t have to spend any time to redo it – just push “play”.  That couldn’t have been further from the truth.  I spent hundreds of hours researching current tools to support their learning of topics such as organizational change, strategy, and leadership. 

The curriculum was so outdated, I could barely use any of it.  For example, the very first article I read, “Leaders and Leadership - Many theories, but what advice is reliable?” was from 2013.  It included, “By the dawn of the Industrial Revolution the Great Man theory dominated explanations of leadership…the history of what man has accomplished is the history of the great men who have worked here.” It blew my mind!  I shouted obscenities out loud from my lower-level office that I’m sure could be heard miles away.  What had I gotten myself into? 

Committed to doing my best, in spite the curriculum, the technological barriers, and other challenges, I dug through all of my experiential books, folders, and resources seeking activities that would engage.  My goal was to not only access their left critical thinking brain, but it was also to invite their right creative brain into the room.  Throughout my career I’ve found incredible success facilitating leadership through self-refection and self-awareness.  Recognizing this approach can be uncomfortable for participants that are used to a more sit-and-git, sage on the stage approach, I was determined to bring my true, authentic self to the course, warts and all.  Effective leadership, afterall, includes vulnerability, as well making mistakes, then owning the process.        

These students all knew the system; they’d been in it.  I didn’t.  So, they also knew how to game the system and take advantage of me.  They’d miss class, turn in assignments late, or use Artificial Intelligence (AI).  I was always generous, to a fault. 

I stayed true to myself, knowing from years of experience facilitating leadership, that not everyone was going to be engaged.  When there was pushback or resistance, I reminded myself that “when the student is ready, the teacher will appear.”  All I could do was try my best and that’s all I asked of them.  Nice in theory, challenging in practice. 

The evaluations included:

“This professor was extremely nervous each class period and it showed.  Sometimes she seemed not prepared for the class with the materials.  Also, some of the activities were childish with lots of coloring and arts and crafts type of things.  The professor also sometimes made very passive aggressive comments towards some of us students.  That was difficult to deal with as a group.  Overall, I enjoyed the class and learned a lot, but there were some things that made it difficult to stay engaged and want to attend class. 

“Make sure the professor has a full understanding of what is expected of her.  I get it was the first time teaching this class but most of the time things felt like they were pointless or she just genuinely didn’t know what was going on when we didn’t either. This isn’t her fault, I loved her as a professor and would love to have her again but I think she needs to be given better resources and support.”

“Instructor made passive aggressive comments to our class at times.  We worked hard to participate often and go along with her childish activities.  We often drew pictures in class.  Sometimes I felt like I was in elementary school.  However, she was still rude to us saying that she would never teach ever again because of us.  She was also unable to manage the classroom, especially opinions that differed from her own. 

“It would be greatly appreciated if the course discussions could allocate less time to the topic of horses, allowing for more focused exploration of the core subject matter”. 

“While I acknowledge the professor’s dedication, it is my sincere belief that their skills and talents may be better suited to a different occupation such as Horse Farming where their strengths can be fully utilized and appreciated. 

“Don’t teach the students actual pseudoscience as exercises and stop referencing horses so much”.

Thankfully, in my inbox was also the following: 

Molly sent:  “Thank you for a great semester!  I appreciated all of the different exercises that you brought to class to help make our lives a bit more entertaining.  Everything you put together did not go unnoticed. Thank you for being a great listener of our needs as well as a great educator.  I am confident that thanks to your class both mine and my peer’s confidence in being a leader has increased.  I know coming back to teaching was a bit stressful and uncomfortable at times, but I think you did a fantastic job.  As a leader, sometimes you need to step outside of your comfort zone, and seeing you break through that barrier to come back to teach a grad school class was very inspiring.  I just wanted to take a moment to thank you for everything.  Happy Holidays!!”

The critical feedback leveled me.  After a brief grieving period, I reframed the experience, looking for the lessons to learn.  I found some peace in a podcast by Chad Littlefield that reference a model for facilitators.  He shared that we’ll never get 100% of participants to be connected, there will always be a percentage of curmudgeons and critics. 

Fast forward, two and a half years into the future. My daughter Katie’s, finances dad, JW Fisher, was receiving Northwood’s Outstanding Business Leader Award. Kate invited Randy and I to attend because of my connections to the U. I appreciate any chance to get to know her future husband’s family.  That, and I was comfortable there would be other people at the event we were connected to.  I had no idea what “connected” would mean.

Arriving at the Henry Ford Museum of Innovation, Randy and I wandered around, exploring the exhibits.  Katie, James (Katie’s finance), and other members of James family joined us at a high-top table where we held our drinks, munching on crab stuff mushrooms, asparagus wrapped prosciutto, and curried chicken on a skewer.  We visited with several Frankenmuth and NU people we knew, it was a lovely reception. 

An older distinguished looking woman wearing “Northwood blue” announced it was time to move to our seats for dinner and the presentation.  The Fishers had two tables reserved.  The one closest to the stage was for family and kitty corner was the one for their other guests.  Randy and I sat next to a young couple in their early 20’s. 

I turned to the young lady and man sitting next to me, asking what brought them to here.  They shared that they were with the Gerstacker Foundation.  Having done some work for Gerstackers I asked if they knew my friend, Mary Anne Ackerman.  They said they did not that they had only been a part of the organization for the last couple years, just having graduated with a master’s from the DeVos business school. 

I shared that I had been on NU faculty for several years providing equine programs, and most recently facilitated a course for DeVos.  The young lady, Lauryn, looked me square in the eye and said, “I know, I was in your class”.  A chill ran through my body.  This was the class from hell.  I could tell Lauryn registered my panic; I’ve never been a good poker player, my face always reflects what I am feeling. 

I started to explain to her that I tried my very best, though I knew not all the students appreciated those efforts which I learned from some very harsh evaluations.  She told me that she and a lot of the other students didn’t appreciate my approach until they had other classes.  I was one of their first master’s courses, so they had little experience to compare.  She said that for the next two years they found other faculty that basically “phoned it in” and didn’t try to engage the students like I did.  Lauryn went on to share that it took not only experiencing uncaring faculty to appreciate the depth of my preparation, it took living in the “real world”.  Once she got a job, she was able to apply, in actual situations, some of the things I shared with them. 

I breathed a huge sigh of relief, and told her that after reading the critical evaluations, I had landed on “they didn’t know what they didn’t know”.  She was basically verifying my hypothesis.

Just as she finished by telling me that my course – MY course – was the most transformational one of her master’s program the Master of Ceremonies started the awards program.  When the alumni recognition program concluded, all of us stood to leave the dining area.  I turned toward Lauryn and thanked her for her candor.  I shared with her that it meant a lot to know that my instincts were right, then I asked her if I could give her a hug.  She said yes, awkwardly putting her arms around mine.

What a full-circle moment.  A reminder that all we CAN do is to try our best.  In the words of Maya Angelou, "Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better."

Describe a transformation that has taken place in your life.  What were the circumstances that led to this total change?

Is there a transformative experience you’d like to create in the future?

What actions can you take to positively impact the likelihood of this happening?

SERENITY

SERENITY

During the COVID lockdown I decided to start a vegetable garden in the open area near my husband, Randy’s, pole barn two miles from our home.  Randy hired a local farmer to till the yards of rich, fertile soil had hauled in. At a local auction, we found and then filled a 225-gallon water tank. We bought weed mats and plants.   Finally, we erected a 40 x 40 chain-link fence that was conveniently being discarded from property Randy’s sons recently acquired. 

One sunny late August afternoon I was happily barefooted in shorts and tank top weeding my many, many, many tomato plants (Randy talked me into buying double in case some died, so we had 30 plants!).  My dog, Kunigunda (Fluffy) was safely out of the sun, curled up in the shade under the water tank.  I was absent mindedly listening to a podcast by marketing guru and award-winning author, Seth Godin.  Seth was interviewing Chip Conely.  I was familiar with Chip’s 2010 Ted Talk, “What makes life worth living worthwhile”. 

Chip was first known for his boutique hotel chain, Joie de Vivre.  Then, in his fifties he was looking for something new, so he joined Airbnb, a start-up at the time that was being run by a leadership team of 20-somthings.  That led him to write the book, Wisdom at Work:  The Making of a Modern Elder. Today, Seth was learning about Chip’s latest endeavor, MEA, Modern Elder Academy.     

One day on a run in 2018, Chip loves to tell about his “Baja aha moment”.  He asked himself, “Why don’t we have a school to help people going through the transitions of life?”  He shared with Seth that he, and his co-founders Christine and Jeff, had just purchased Saddleback Ranch in New Mexico.  MEA Santa Fe would be dedicated to reframing aging and regenerative principles, using horses.   

I stopped my mindless weed pulling and dialed my full attention into the podcast.  Santa Fe was near my daughter, Carlye, husband Gabe, and coming soon, my first grandchild.  WoW! Was this too good to be true?  Could I REALLY be an equine-assisted learning facilitator with an internally recognized organization 45 minutes north of where my future grandchild would be living?! I reached out to my Experiential Training and Development Alliance friend and colleague, David, who lives near Santa Fe.  Through his local connections he had been in contact with Christine; she was leading the MEA Santa Fe development.  David thought she might be open to learning more about my work.  That’s all the encouragement I needed to research the crap out of everything Chip, MEA, and Christine.  I located the history of the property, Christine’s background, and reacquainting myself with all of Chip’s work.  I must have listened to Chip’s “Aha in Baha” a half a dozen times!

I emailed Christine and she told me they had an exclusive agreement with a local NM equine expert, Kelly Wendorf.  Not to be deterred from the vision I now had of being part of this amazing personal growth community, I signed up for their inaugural Santa Fe session, “Spirituality + Health in Midlife and Beyond”. 

I decided the best way to identify whether I was a right fit with MEA was to be a student first.  There was no good reason not to:  I had the resources (the course and flights would be in the several thousand dollars) and I had the freedom (Randy agreed to watch Fluff).  Best of all, the program was scheduled a month after my grandchild was expected to arrive in this world.

I signed up and committed myself to attending with a “Beginner’s Mind”.  Beginner’s mind is the Zen Buddhism practice of approaching tasks, studies, or life with an attitude of openness, and curiosity, even when one is an expert. This was a critical promise on my part, as it would instill an intentional ritual of serenity.  As a facilitator, I always have a running dialogue of judgement whenever I am participating in a facilitated event.  I recognized I was attending this workshop because I had an “agenda” of wanting to be recognized for my equine prowess.  Instead of focusing on that as a desired outcome, I decided to actively work toward simply being myself, trusting the process, allowing for spirit to guide me. 

At the opening reception, I approached Christine to introduce myself.  I reminded her that she responded to my email inquiring about equine-assisted learning.  She said she didn’t remember the exchange.  No matter, I was proud of myself for overcoming my insecurities and was glad I was confident enough to approach her. 

Day two we set our intention for the workshop.  I first pondered “being open”.  That didn’t feel quite right, so I mulled over “being present”.  Then, I thought of “notice what your notice”.  This phrase reminds me of my wise friend from Prescott College, Dr. Paul Smith.  I wrote in my journal that because that was my intention, I purposefully reflected on my reactions and judgments to the facilitation – letting go and working on noticing why I noticed what I did.  What was my story that said it “should” be done a certain way? Especially when there is no “right” or “wrong” just different.

At the reception that evening, Christine sought me out to give me a copy of Kelly’s book, Flying Lead Change.   I thanked her, then shared with her that I read that book about four years ago.  Instead of that comment opening a dialogue, she seemed offended.  She clearly hadn’t done any research about me and wasn’t curious.  I was being as authentic as I could yet struggled to make a connection with her.

After our evening campfire I returned to my cabin and removed my jewelry before going to bed.  Taking off my Centaur necklace, the brand for Paul Smith’s company, Centaur Leadership, I lightly kissed it then whispered out loud “Thank You Paul”.  The light in the bathroom flickered off and on.  Paul died approximately nine years earlier at that time of year.  His subtle presence helped ground me, keeping me attentive to the energies around me. 

Day five we travelled from the Chi Center to the new MEA campus that was still under construction.  Chip and Christine wanted our group to see what they were building, encouraging us to participate in future Santa Fe workshops.  They invited us to sit in white plastic chairs lined up in rows in an unshaded and very sunny courtyard.  One of their wranglers on the property, Linda, talked to us about the future equine learning programs they would be offering.

I shifted in my seat, wiping the sweat off my brow, wondering why Kelly, their “exclusive” provider was not here?  A better question was why were we not experiencing the horses? What the hell were we doing sitting here talking about EAL when there were equines on property.  Finally, after the thirty-minute dissertation, they invited us to visit the three horses and one donkey they had in a pasture near the courtyard.

On our way to the where the horses where grazing in a pasture, Christine turned toward the group of us and asked, “Who wore the horse socks?”  I was close enough to hear her, though I didn’t reply.  I was so angry she would ask that question; I could feel the flush of blood running through my body!  Thankfully, all my fellow compadres who heard the question, answered, “Tracy”.  Who else could it have been?  I was the ONLY person whose entire wardrobe included horse nearly every day.  I literally stopped, then took a deep breath to center and calm myself.  

When we reached the fence, I was one of the last people to join the group of thirty plus people ringed around the railing. They were all encouraging the horses to come to them, hanging over the fence, making clucking noises.  I looked directly at the horse they nick-named Fabio (because of his flowing mane), and mentally said to him, “I see you.”  He turned toward me, moved from the center of the arena, slowly walked past every other person, and straight to me. Everyone turned their head in my direction as they witnessed the invitation and Fabio’s physical response.  Magical.        

Our closing ceremony included a tribute by “A secret Compadre” which we had randomly drawn two days earlier.  The compadre and their tribute giver faced each other.  My Compadre, Michelle, wrote, “Dr. Tracy is a business guru, a horse whisperer, and leadership expert…she has a heart as big as the Atlantic & Pacific oceans combined…When I think of her a saying comes to mind – still waters run deep.  Underestimate her power & passion at your own peril, because she is a force to be reckoned with.  And her superpower?  She notices what she notices, and she has no doubt been noticing all of you.” 

Once the Compadre read their tribute, Chip

Also, at our closing ceremony Chip invited me to share my horse wisdom in the future as part of the MEA equine team.  When I got into Christine’s car to drive from our dinner at Chip’s house back to the Chi Center, she turned to me, then said, “We’ll be in touch”.       

The thing that brought me the tranquility and peace during my MEA experience, wasn’t the daily visits of serendipitous messengers or even the eventual acknowledgment by Christine, it is best captured in my final journal entry, “  As a horse person you seek validation the horse gave me yesterday by coming right toward me when I opened my heart and sent him the message, ‘I see you’.  My serenity came from both Fabio’s actions and the parallel experience of my MEA Compadres teasing me about that experience, calling me a “Horse Whisperer”.  Thank you both for seeing me!”    

P.S.  Kelly still has an exclusive with MEA, though I haven’t given up yet on being TRULY seen!

Recall a time when you were in a beginner’s mind.  Did you experience the serenity and peace of not actively working toward a specific outcome?

What were the conditions that allowed you to stay present?

Is there something you can tell you future self which will give you more serenity? 

SPIRITUALITY

SPIRITUALITY

Following a hearty and delicious breakfast of fresh fruit, including bright green and orange melon, black, red, and blue berries, homemade crusty sourdough bread with whipped butter and a spread of bacon, sausage, and scrambled eggs, the first session of the International Equine Summit began.  It was a classroom session with a “death by power-point” presentation on laminitis by a very passionate veterinarian explaining in great detail this severely painful equine disease. 

Thankfully, I was up next with a session entitled, “Head, Heart, and Harmony” where we would partner with our horse friends.  Ten women, including the owner of the Apache Springs Ranch and one of the founding mothers of equine assisted services, Barbara Rector, were in the group that decided to join me.  I was feeling confident, yet with a little trepidation, because such “royalty” had decided to participate in my session.

We trudged up a dusty hill to find three very anxious horses running around a metal pipe-fenced pasture.  Each horse bowed their bodies, heads turning to the right and left, kicking up dust, tails high in the air, snorting.  I took one look at the horses, then turned around to face the clump of my waiting participants. We all recognized it would not be safe to enter the pasture until our equine partners calmed down.  Rather than solve this challenge by myself, I humbly asked the group what they would do in this situation if they were the presenter.  By inviting them to share their ideas, I created an experience where we were equals, no longer presenter/participant.    

Each person responded, taking turns sharing their ideas about how to best support our four-legged facilitators.  One person suggested we begin by grounding ourselves.  Another chimed in that we could add deep breathing.  A third suggested that we spread out around the pen, so our energy would be dissipated, expanding the space where the horses could feel our calming invitation.     

Affirming theses were all great ideas and before we spread out, I asked Barbara to guide us through her well-known safety agreement.  She asked us to repeat after her, “I agree to take responsibility for myself today and by doing so I contribute to the safety of the group”.  In unison, a harmonious song of confident female voices proclaimed our commitment to ourselves and each other.   

Next, I invited the participants to spread out around the outside of the fence.  The eleven of us stood with our arms out, shoulder to shoulder, palms facing forward, projecting a loving energy toward the horses.  I invited the group to close their eyes, imagining they were breathing through their heart space.  The participants complied, closed their eyes, then took several deep breaths, summoning mother earth’s energy. 

As if by magic, the once spirited horses, all stopped and turned toward the half-circle of jean clad, boot wearing women.  The horses now stood calmly, nostrils slightly flaring as their heart rates slowed down back to normal.  I invited my guests to open their eyes and see what I was sure each of us sensed.  Together, we had made a deep, spiritual, connection with each other and our horse partners.  We did this through offering compassion without an work-related agenda. 

Collectively we decided to spend the last half-hour of our time together deepening our exploration of this shared experience.  People organically broke off into smaller groups, sharing ideas, while they scratched and loved on the calm and welcoming horses.    

After another delicious healthy lunch, we exited the lodge, walking out into the bright sunshine to find three calm horses lazily wandering around the open-air arena on a warm October day.   Onlookers, the other fifty participants and speakers, sat on metal bleachers, shaded from the sun by a reddish-brown faded tin roof, surrounded by Arizona desert. 

Host, Shelly Rosenberg, introduced Michelle Holling-Brooks from Unbridled Change, as our next presenter.  Michelle and I met the day prior and immediately formed a heartfelt connection.  She and I and another presenter, Willow Vetch, became somewhat of a three-some, seeking each other’s company throughout the Summit.  Michelle and Willow were (are) very spiritual and empathic, much more than me.  They both shared stories of experiencing their human lives, not as simply humans; rather they felt they were more horse than human.  They could read energy in a horse-like sense, telepathically and in pictures not words.  In their equine-assisted learning work they would then use those sensations to guide others through a path of transformation, helping clients connect to their true self—body, mind, heart, and soul.

After Shelly’s introduction, Michelle began her session by explaining that bonding, trust, respect, willingness, and focus were critical parts of horse communication.  That being able to communicate in this manner brings well-being to your soul, and to the horse’s soul, where you will discover your true nature.  In her session, she would help a volunteer connect to the very heart of the horse.  This, she explained, would assist the person in understanding how to use horses as our guides for self-realization.

 Michelle looked out into the bleachers, then invited me into the arena by “voluntelling” me to volunteer.  I felt nervous being watched by my peers and I wondered why she asked me, “Are you ready?”  As the activity unfolded, I came to appreciate the friendly nudge to be vulnerable and experience her wisdom. 

Michelle gave me a long piece of switch grass, used to extend my touch, she then instructed me to pick a horse.  I moved away from Michelle and toward the horses, that were just standing nearby expectantly waiting to see what was going to be asked of them.  I turned and faced them, selecting the mare closest to me, a draft horse cross with a flowing mane, full forelock, and thick blond tail.   I pointed my switchgrass in her direction, extending my arm its’ full length.  I squared myself, targeting my energy at this mare, willing her to acknowledge my invitation by coming toward me. My inner voice was overthinking the process, flashing ideas of “What’s the right way to do this? Am I doing it all wrong?  Oh, man, what if I screw this up in front of everybody?”. 

I tried to getting this beautiful mare to pay attention by silently directing her to turn, come toward, me or even just acknowledge my existence.  She continued to keep her head down and rather than make any suggestion she was aware of my presence, she turned toward the other two horses, a bay mustang mare and a black quarter horse gelding.   

When she rejected me, my inner dialogue shifted into high gear, warp speed, as I heard the “tape of failure” in my head.  I also heard the inner struggle, of there is no such thing as failure, only learning. What I didn’t realize at the time was that by facing her with such a bold stance, I was actually pushing her away with my energy rather than inviting her in.  I was commanding, not inviting. 

I turned toward Michelle seeking her input and advice.  She suggested that I pause. Listen. Regulate myself first. She further advised that I inviting rather than insist. She told me to find the one place where I could receive a genuine yes from the horse.  Get curious instead of judgmental.  It was as though Michelle had read my thoughts. How did you know that my self-talk had been so critical, I wondered.

On the second try, I started by grounding myself.  I took a deep breath, accepting that I could fully connect with a horse through my whole body, not just a shallow attempt of “thinking” my way into the relationship.  I slowed down the interaction, removed unnecessary pressure by turning my body slightly to the side, not aiming my pelvis directly at the horses.  I did this with the intention of allowing choice, inviting connection, meeting their energy with grounded leadership instead of force.  Instead of just picking the horse closest to me, I gently scanned the three horses, sensing who would be open to an invitation to connection.  The black gelding, ever so slightly, flicked his right ear in my direction.  He then turned toward me and SAW me.  I burst into tears, feeling a sense of pure love, acceptance, and acknowledgement through his loving gaze. 

By giving up my own personal agenda, I could clearly sense the voice of the horse.  I felt as if I had stepped into his harmonious world because I was willing to wait for him to connect with me on his terms.

I looked at Michelle and she smiled.  Then slowly nodded knowingly.  It occurred to me then that the reason she chose me, starting with the question, “Are you ready?” was because she was inviting me into the world she knew.  The invisible world of sacred connections.  Through our conversations as well as her intuition, she recognized my spirituality.  While I may not be as fully attuned as she and Willow, I am still a conduit, vibrating on a higher level.

For horses, presence is everything. They live entirely in the now. When we join them there the quality of the relationship deepens. The experience becomes fuller, richer, more peaceful because we are truly with them. It’s how horses communicate with each other. When the horse instinctively understands our intentions, responding without hesitation or confusion magic happens.

She asked me what I felt.  Through my tears I sort of choked out the words “Pure Love”.  My friend and teacher, Michelle, affirmed my feelings were real.  Really real. 

What subtle ways might I be holding myself back from being fully present with Spirit/God/Budda?

What actions can I take to enhance my spirit and spirituality?

In the future what spiritual teachers will I seek out?

ABUNDANCE

ABUNDANCE

What started as a one-horse hobby by one of Josphine Loiselle’s four daughters grew into a 40 horse, 40-acre Morgan horse training, breeding, and showing tax shelter, a nine-mile, thirteen-minute car ride from my childhood home.  The business owner, Jo, was known as “Mrs. L”, a very formidable perfectly quaffed blond-haired mother of six.  She was 7 years younger than my mom, Ada, who was in fifty-two when I started horseback lessons at the age of twelve.    

The trainer, of horses and people, was Mrs. L’s son, Pierre.  Pierre was ten years older than me, only twenty-two, when I took my first lesson. Pierre had a very deliberate way of doing things.  His tack room was perfectly ordered, with all the bridles lined up, each of the leather pieces neatly tucked into their keepers.  The throat latch looped around the back, coming together in the front to form a perfect circle.

Beyond the tack room, the barn, grounds, wash rack, and observation room were also regularly cleaned and well-organized.  The abundance of life lessons I experienced at JL’s extended beyond a strong work ethic, determination, and commitment to a shared vision; it included experiencing life and death decision-making, as well as making choices that challenged a teen-age girl’s ego and self-of-self.    

My first riding lesson horse was a gentle, mature, short, black Morgan gelding named Greg. Nailed to the white aisle cabinet next to the crossties where I groomed and tacked Greg, George hung a black block lettered on white hard plastic sign:  I am a great believer in luck, and I find the harder I work, the more I have of it. I must have read that thing 10,000 times over the five years JL’s was part of my life. 

At various times during my JL’s chapter, the people working there bonded through little sleep or downtime, high stress, and winning horses.  We also exhibited elements of a high-performance team, such as a shared language. Pierre’s nickname was George.  Mine was “Chip” because when I smiled, George said I had chipmunk cheeks.  Liz, one of my good friends, was nicknamed “Boober” for obvious reasons.  Eventually, even my mom earned a moniker, she became “Spider” because of our last name Weber. 

I learned generosity from JL’s in both small and large doses.  I loved and appreciated the toasted tomato sandwiches Mrs. “L” made in her small camper, which we hungerly gobbled up in truck stop parking lots on long trips to Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Oklahoma.  I still make these yummy snacks, preferably with garden fresh Michigan tomatoes on Spatz bread served with a generous smear of Miracle Whip on both sides. 

The grooms, including I, rode illegally in the gooseneck part of the nine-horse trailer.  We laid on top of tack, primarily blue canvas bags, tied with white cotton draw strings, holding leather bustles.  Bustles are harnesses worn by horses in their stalls to help “set” their tails, a desirable atheistic in the show ring.  It’s a testament to how tired we were that we could sleep on those lumpy, bumpy things made from hard leather with stainless steel or brass rings, snap clips, and buckles!   

If we heard any trouble in the trailer where the horses were, one of us would sneak out of the gooseneck through a small door, to climb precariously on the brown pipe dividers which separated each horse.  We had no way to notify the people driving in the trucks, as this was before cell phones and for some reason we didn’t use walkie talkies.  If there was a horse that wouldn’t stop banging or was caught up in their hay net, our options were to help the horse or wait until the truck required gas or a driver stopped to pee.  Thankfully none of us ever slipped, which could have pinned us between a horse and the divider or worse slide under a 1,200 lb. horse.

In all my time at JL’s I only had one incident that sent me to the hospital.  We were at a rather large show, the Michigan Futurity at the Detroit Fair Grounds.  The show was over, so we were packing up all our stall decorations.  Standing on a tack box, I was using a staple remover to unhook the staples from the bright blue velvet drapes surrounding the owner’s lounge.  I jumped down from the box, catching my underarm on a harness hook.  A harness is hook is chrome-plated stainless steel, four-pronged “flesh-eating monster” (not really, well, sort of) for hanging equipment or apparel. 

I screamed as it ripped through my clothes, tearing my skin.  Arria, Pierre’s sister, came running to see what was wrong.  She grabbed a dirty groom’s towel that was nearby, to apply pressure. 

“You’re going to the emergency room”, She told me calmly. 

The thing I remember most is how painful it was to have the nurse scrub the wound with iodine soap before the painkilling shots kicked in.  Thankfully, I missed the muscle, so no permanent damage.  Just two layers of stitches to hold the flesh together until it healed.     

In Pennsylvania the show ring, warm-up ring, and painted white bleachers were down a long honeysuckle lined, steep gravel road.  The barns, on the other hand, where the horses were was a football field away up that wicked hill.  I credit this bloody incline for my practice of over packing, stashing essential items in a variety of locations, and scenario planning.  I hated running up that hill if I forgot a hoof pick, a pair of chains, or some other “necessary” item that George wanted to use to “tune up” a horse prior to entering the show ring. 

My whole time at JL’s, I had two favorite horses, outside of mine.  Sennie and Icky.  Sennie was Wittmorr Sensation.  A kindhearted, beautiful gelding whom I adored.  Icky was Bonnie Lee’s Exquisite, an amazing park mare who was stunning to watch.  She seemed to love to show, exhibiting a confidence and posture that demanded attention.

We were at the Goldcup in Columbus, Ohio when Icky started showing signs of colic. The initial approach when a horse colics is to walk them, keep them moving so they cannot twist their gut.  I can not count the number of hours I walked that horse, talking to her and praying that she would be okay.  I remember the responsibility of keeping her moving, not letting her stop to nibble grass or roll, which could have meant death.  In the cool June night air, a somewhat loose cotton lead rope in my hand, we went in circles around the pasture beside the barn, behind the barn, across the gravel road, around the trailers, through a gate and back again. 

On one pass, Liz waived to me from the front of our row of stalls, which were decorated in branded blue curtains, tack trunks in between each stall door, matching directors’ chairs, surrounded by potted plastic ferns. She was signaling to me that the show vet finally arrived.  I turned to my beloved Icky, scratched her long beautiful black neck and kissed her lightly.  I whispered, “You got this girl and I’ll be right there with you”.

The show vet was able to fish the soft, lightly greased plastic hose down her nose.  She then pumped the warm water from a steel metal bucket into the hose, sending it down to her stomach, helping to move whatever blockage she had, ending her painful stomachache.  Horses can’t throw up, so when something bothers their digestive system, it has to work itself out the back of the horse.  There is nothing that makes a horse person happier than when a colicking horse finally poops. 

After the vet finished the procedure, Pierre, Liz and I took turns holding Icky, keeping her standing and upright.  Thankfully, it wasn’t long after the vet left that Icky lifted her long black tail, to send a cascade of horse manure from her butt to a mushy, watery pile on the ground.  George, Boober and I smiled, high fiving each other, breathing sighs of relief.  Our beautiful girl would live to show another day!  We were overflowing with joy and delight.

Working for JL’s was not all work; we worked hard and played hard.  One of my favorite memories is of the bleachers in Pennsylvania.  Yes, the same show that taught me to remember to plan ahead, as mentioned above. The show ring was a white boarded fence surrounded by sections where individual farm owners could reserve seats for horse owners to watch their investment in the ring.  For each area there was a sign with the name of the farm indicating this was their space, while wooden folding chairs lined up facing the arena.

Liz and I got the clever idea that we would tape over the “T” on the Thorny Hills Farm sign.  Horses fed and watered, humans also fed sitting in canvas bag chairs outside their decorated barn, we’d sneak back down the hill to the bleachers tape in hand.  We covered the “T” nightly, then excited wait to overhear people talk, trying to figure out who the pranksters were as the show days continued.  We never got caught or “busted”, a small claim to fame!

I felt, and still feel, the most alive in a field or a barn filled with horses.  There is nothing quite like the sound of several horses breathing, snorting, munching on hay or listening to their soft lips brush the feed bucket seeking that last morsel of grain.  For me it is, still, one of the most calming sounds on earth.  We’ve learned from science that a horse's heart generates a powerful electromagnetic field, roughly five times larger than a human's, extending in a 30-foot radius.  Thank you, science, for proving my feelings of contentment were more than just my imagination!

Share a time you have experienced abundance.  Abundance of what? 

Have you sought to replicate the feeling of abundance in other aspects of your life and/or work?  How?

If you could magically produce a large quantity of anything, what would it be and why?