Horses Heal

I have a long history with horses. Those glassy-eyed dinosaurs that captivated the hearts, minds, and souls of people when they first arrived in this country hundreds of years ago.

I honestly believe the introduction of the horse was one of the most pivotal turning points in our history. Horses changed the course of this country forever.

When I was just knee-high to a grasshopper, I had the privilege of growing up around my grandfather’s ranch horses. Back then, I didn’t understand what they really were. To me though at that young age, they were magical creatures.

The smell of them. The feel of their coats under the hot summer sun. The rhythmic movement of riding one across open land. It all felt bigger than life itself.

Growing up on the ranch, horses were viewed as tools. Valuable tools, but tools nonetheless. My grandfather was a hell of a rancher and horseman. I just wish I’d learned more from him while I had the chance. Ranch life teaches you something important: even your tools reflect who you are. Take care of them, and they’ll take care of you.

But like most young men, I was in a hurry to grow up and see the world. I joined the army and while I was away he died before I really got to learn those deeper lessons from him.

When I came back from the army, I was broken. Or at least I thought I was.

I was a shell. A bag of meat with no heart.

I had severe PTSD from my time overseas, though back then I didn’t even know what PTSD really was. I just knew something inside me was wrong. Luckily, my Uncle Mac gave me an opportunity to work on the ranch, and I jumped at it.

I lived alone on a huge spread of land. No people. Just cows, horses and quiet.

At the time, I didn’t realize what that life was doing for me. Looking back now, I know those horses — and the time I spent alone with them — helped save my life.

There were moments in the barn while saddling up where I’d feel those big eyes watching me with this strange sense of patience, care and understanding. Sometimes I’d completely break down and weep like a child.

The horses never cared, never judged me.

They’d stand there quietly and let me work through whatever storm was raging inside me.

But horses are honest creatures.

When I brought anger, chaos, or darkness into the barn, they mirrored it right back at me. They became stubborn, difficult, impossible to work with. It was like they refused to let me ignore myself.

Eventually, I realized the problem wasn’t them.

It was me.

The energy I carried into that barn showed up in every interaction I had with those animals. Horses taught me that energy is real. Those critters feel everything.

And whether I realized it or not, they were teaching me how to heal.

Eventually, my love of horses — and what they can do for people — led me to a place where I wanted to share that gift.

I searched around Alberta and found a program that helped me give other people what horses had given me. I became certified as an Equine Specialist – Facilitator.

Thank you, Gary, Marion, and Sox.

One day soon, I’ll have my own place and do this work.

Because after everything I’ve seen in this life — war, trauma, loss, chaos — I know one thing for sure:

Horses heal.

No More Waiting.