Nothing Special: The True Story of Horses Inspiring Spiritual Awakenings in the Most Unexpected of Ways

Introduction

Have you ever thought about how strange spoken language can be? The meaning of a word can be modified with the simple lift of an eyebrow or a changed tone of voice of the one speaking. And so it is with the title of this book, Nothing Special. The title is deliberately ambiguous, left for you, the reader, to decide the meaning it has for you.

We live in a world that places a high value on uniqueness or being somehow special. By definition, in order to be special one must be an outlier in comparison to the average or the ordinary. One must be faster or slower, ahead or behind, above or below, more or less of something, be it beauty, intelligence, speed, talent, or wealth in comparison to a middle of the road standard or average. I can recall from a very early age feeling that if I wasn’t special I had no worth and I erroneously concluded that if I wasn’t special my family would have no reason to love me. In the many years I have worked as a psychologist I have come to realize that the idea of being special as a necessary condition for being worthy of love is a nearly universally held thought or belief, at least it is so in western culture.

The value of a thing (person, animal or object) being nothing special can be symbolized by a target, the kind used in archery or for the game of darts. The center of the target is commonly called the bullseye. The bullseye is in perfect balance with the whole of the target from top to bottom and side to side. It is equidistant from the circumference of the target, being in balance from all directions. In essence, it represents perfection, with no improvement necessary and no higher score to gain. The paradox is obvious, that the bullseye is simultaneously perfect and nothing special, a point in the pattern with no comparison.

The name Nothing Special was chosen for this book, in part, because the characters, all real people and animals, are exactly that; nothing special. None have any claim to extraordinary beauty, talent or gifts. None are outliers. All are ordinary, and all are perfect. None are likely to be on the cover of a magazine or a headline on an internet homepage. It is precisely due to the absence of special that the most pure and astounding experiences took place at the HorsePower equine-facilitated psychotherapy program on a small farm in the town of Corvallis, Oregon.

At the center of this story is a cast-off, low status horse with no papers and an unknown bloodline. He was a mutt as far as anyone could tell. When the question invariably came up as to his breed the answers that followed were both creative and speculative. Some thought he was part Thoroughbred with perhaps some American Quarter Horse mixed in. Now and then the suggestion that he was the descendent of a wild mustang would be tossed about for conversation. Even his body shape, known as conformation, left the observer with the impression that he was the compilation of a mix and match game. Had he been an automobile his appearance would be tantamount to creating a chassis from a Ford, Chevrolet, and Cadillac with the various contributions of each style not complementing each other very successfully.

Nevertheless, he became the unlikely facilitator of growth and healing for his owner and many others. He didn’t have a narrative or explanation for what he was doing. He had no underlying theories that had to pass scrutiny for things like internal consistency or reliability, things humans require for a theory to be considered valid. He had no way of considering or speculating that he was doing anything of any particular value. Like all horses, his life was being more than doing. At all times he was doing nothing more or less than being himself without pretention. He wasn’t capable of putting on a false front or being deceptive, something that humans seem to be prewired to do or at least learn to do nearly effortlessly. He would never have been described as being especially intelligent for his species. There were other horses in his little herd of three who demonstrated greater quickness in detecting and comprehending changes in the environment. He seemed to realize this deficiency in his makeup and he shunned leadership of the herd as much as possible. With his humanly-defined deficiencies and shortcomings, he was nothing less than a perfect facilitator for revealing unhealed wounds, while also providing a living context for change and transformation, quietly and without fanfare, awards, recognition or prize money.

My personal takeaway from the years of relationship with this utterly ordinary horse is an appreciation for the pristine beauty that exists slightly below the surface of our perception. Such beauty is comprehended when love is recognized in the ordinary; everyday time spent together, hanging out, sharing carrots and simply enjoying one another for no particular reason, with no agenda and nothing to prove. The aim of this book is to describe a sampling of interpersonal, interspecies interactions that changed the world for a handful of people.

1

A Child’s Prayer

The first thing Leia did following the impact of her fall on that otherwise flawless June day in Oregon, was run her tongue over her teeth to see if any of them had been knocked out or were loose. She paid close attention to the process, trying to detect the taste of blood that would have alerted her of missing or moveable teeth. The fact that they were still attached was instantly recognized as remarkable, given that most of the impact of the fall had gone to her face. She had slammed face-first into the ground with substantial force after falling hard from atop a full-sized horse. She was genuinely surprised that she was even fully conscious. However, she was aware of her surroundings. She could identify the location by sound as to where the children were riding in the round pen next to where she fell. They spoke to her and she responded, proving that she still had use of language. That was a good thing, she thought.

Her initial thoughts began to swirl with a tinge of distress around the idea that the impact of that magnitude would have had to cause a concussion. Her professional training as a clinical psychologist left little doubt in her mind that her brain had just sloshed inside the walls of her cranium and either was now or would soon show signs of bruising with corresponding confusion or behavior disruption. She analyzed the situation quickly and anticipated that she might begin having memory problems, headaches, or difficulty problem-solving. She knew her skull was pretty thick from having had head injuries in the past. By comparison, she knew this one was the worst, by far.

Still, she realized exactly what had happened to her. Just as she had placed her foot in the stirrup of the saddle and swung her leg over Sebastian’s back to rest her body in the seat, her beloved mixed-breed gelding horse had initiated a spin before she had time to center her balance or grab onto the saddlehorn. He stopped the spin as abruptly as he started it, causing her to rock awkwardly while trying to register what was happening. Before she could adjust, he instantly lowered his head toward his forelegs, and simultaneously pushed his hindquarters skyward with great determination. The series of sudden movements, perfectly executed, launched her over his head as she flew onto the hard clay ground. He had tossed her into the air like a rag doll, revealing his natural physical power. Before she could comprehend what was happening, she had felt a very pleasant sensation of floating. For less than a fraction of a second it was reminiscent of being a young child and feeling weightless while being tossed into the air by an older sibling or parent, to be caught up again in loving arms. In this case, there were no loving arms to break the fall. The pleasant sensation ended abruptly with a cruel thud as her face and head collided with the rock-hard ground.

Leia had gone out one morning to ride horses around the pasture with her granddaughter and the neighbor boys. The children had been practicing their riding skills under the tutelage of a Spanish teenage exchange student, Eduardo. He was an accomplished horseman at the young age of 16 and was coaching the three children while Leia saddled her horse anticipating a calm, uneventful and enjoyable ride. Eduardo was nearing the end of his year in America and the plan was for the friends to gather and enjoy one final morning of riding before he would be returning to Spain. The group consisted of two neighbor boys, Leia’s granddaughter, Ariana, who was six years old at the time, Leia and Eduardo. Leia’s husband, Ray, had meandered out to the nearby apple orchard to do some trimming.

There was nothing noteworthy or unusual in Sebastian’s demeanor that day to alarm Leia or tip her off as to what was about to take place. She easily swung her leg over the saddle as she had many times before. The spin and toss movement were initiated as though it was a well-rehearsed dance move. The timing was perfect. She had not had a moment to settle into the saddle when the spin and launch was initiated. The move was, in a way, graceful, perfectly efficient with no wasted effort and it achieved the goal of dismounting Leia in a matter of a few seconds.

Instantly, Leia’s husband, Ray, was crouching by her side, offering to help her get to her feet. He had been out in the pasture attending to the fruit orchard and had seen the accident. He was frantic and visibly shaken when he reached her; he was afraid her neck had been broken. He wanted to see Leia become upright as much to reassure himself that she was alright than for any other reason. Leia reassured him that her arms and legs were working. However, she was momentarily unwilling to try to shift to an upright position. She needed time for her body to adjust to the aftermath of the sudden impact. She was more in shock than in pain and her body was vibrating from the sudden jolt of adrenaline that had been released. Nevertheless, she was acutely aware of the children riding in the round pen next to where she lay. Her priority in that moment was to minimize in their minds the severity of the accident that they had just witnessed.

The children may have been full-on spectators to the entire incident, had they been watching instead of paying attention to their own experience of riding. She hoped they had missed seeing the action. It had taken place less than thirty feet from where they were riding. She did not want them to be left with any fear of horses or riding in the aftermath of what they had witnessed. When one of the children asked if she was alright, she responded with an eerie sort of reassurance. Her voice literally sounded normal, as though nothing whatsoever had happened. With more than thirty years of experience as a psychotherapist, Leia had carefully practiced controlling the sound of her voice to evoke the precise beneficial effect she desired to help her clients. At that moment, while still lying on the ground, her concern had shifted off of herself, and onto the children. The incident was finished, over, and could not be undone. The event had happened in the space of an eye blink. Now, in her mind, there were others to whom she wanted to attend. Once the children were sufficiently reassured, her attention shifted to her horse.

Sebastian had made many gains in his trust in people and willingness to be ridden since she purchased him three years earlier. Leia had gotten him from a family that made their living buying, selling and trading horses, and they in turn had acquired him from a rodeo family with a herd of twenty-three horses on their property. Leia and Ray had driven the fifty miles from their home to look over Sebastian in February (there was still snow on the ground). They had asked the young woman who was selling the horse if she would ride him so they could watch how he moved and see that he was indeed the calm horse he had been advertised as being. The young woman saddled him up and rode him about ten feet across a driveway to the edge of the snow but claimed she didn’t feel it would be safe for her to ride him into the snow. She quickly hopped off, seeming to appear that she wasn’t in a hurry, although the rhythm of her movements suggested urgency with dismounting and once on the ground her face took on the slight yet perceptible appearance of relief.

The term horse trader is generally considered a derogatory term; it came from the practice of lying to potential customers in the course of business transactions involving the animals. In the months and years following obtaining Sebastian, Ray and Leia would laugh over the tricks that had been used to create the appearance of stability and calmness in the powder keg they had so naively paid good money for. Soon after purchasing Sebastian and having him dropped off at their little farm, Leia realized she’d been swindled by the young woman and her mother who had sold him to her. They had misled her about his temperament and reliability. She thought she had purchased a horse that was safe and relaxed, who was willing to be ridden with confidence. She’d seen him be ridden by the young woman and he had appeared completely at ease. Leia had wanted a horse since she was a very young child. She wasn’t a complete novice when it came to horses, but she had been in her 40’s when she got a horse for her adolescent son and began learning the ropes and requirements of good horse care. That February, Ray had encouraged her to get a horse for herself because she was always doing so much for others. He wanted her to have a horse she could trust and ride to finally fulfill her childhood dream. She felt a resurgence of innocent youthful joy at the prospect of having a horse of her very own. No doubt this euphoric expectation muted her typically more cautious analysis of the horse and the situation. She was caught up in the moment with the romance of it all and her judgment was blurred by the intoxication of her own imagination, picturing a blissful future that she would ride into with her beloved steed.

Once Sebastian arrived at her pasture, though, he quickly let it be known that riding him was not part of his agreement. He became agitated and fearful while being saddled. When the cinch was being tightened, he would back up and his eyes would become wide with fear as he snorted and broke away running. Leia wasn’t an experienced trainer, so she hired different experts to help her guide Sebastian back into usefulness. Three different trainers had come to work with him and Sebastian had bucked off two of them. The third had been too frightened to even attempt riding him. Leia was flummoxed by the predicament she found herself in with Sebastian. She could not, with clear conscience, sell him to someone else with the problems he had. Nor would she consider taking him to the livestock auction where he might end up on a train going to a slaughter house. True to her pattern of addressing challenges, she rolled up her sleeves and went to work learning as much as she could about horses. Leia wasn’t going to give up on him and she continued to work with him until she was able to get in the saddle and walk around the pasture without incident. Yes, he had come a long way and this accident registered as a setback of monumental proportions for both of them.

Lying on the ground, Leia could feel the earth vibrate with each of Sebastian’s hoof beats near her. Oddly enough, she was not even slightly concerned about him stepping on her, either accidentally or deliberately. He was in distress and she could feel it. He wasn’t trying to hurt her, he was scared. He stayed relatively near her, suggesting that he saw her as the one to be with when he was afraid. She caught a glimpse of his face and saw a wide