By Ariana Strozzi Mazzucchi, 7/2024

It was a warm fall afternoon when I first met Sheri. She had scheduled a riding lesson.  The barn was full of distractions the day she arrived at the ranch. Stacy was grooming her bay mare near the tack room and Jane had just finished working her yearling filly. I busily readied Sadie with a saddle for Sheri to ride in. As Sheri began to speak about herself, I realized that perhaps she had not come to ride after all. I suggested we sit in the shade of the old oak tree and get acquainted.

      “What would you like to gain from our work together?" I asked.

      “I don’t know.  I saw an article in the San Francisco Chronicle about you and it just seemed right to schedule a session with you. I have a horse named Sterling. He is an incredible horse! He has become a wonderful jumper and currently competes in Show jumping. I don’t show him myself. I have him with a trainer who works with him and shows him.” 

      As she continued sharing her relationship with her horse, and more importantly, her trainer’s relationship with her horse, she revealed that she was confused about what to do with her horse at the current barn he was boarded at. She lived in Marin and drove the one-hour trip up to Sonoma two times a week to ride him.

Tears started spilling onto her cheeks as she confessed that she was afraid to ride him. 

“I don’t know why I am afraid.” She blurted out.

“I have always been a good rider. I used to be a successful competitor. Sterling is such a wonderful horse.” She sobbed a few more tears.

“I don’t know if I should ride him anymore.” She said with mild resignation. A long out breath followed, “But it is important for me to ride.” She blurted.

More tears spilled down her cheeks, smearing her make up. “I don’t know why I am so emotional about this? I just want Sterling to be happy.”

“He is such an amazing athlete he should be on the show circuit.” And there it was. The gold mine of doubt. The key words, ‘should be’, tipped off my intuitive detective, quietly mining for the source of hidden pain.

“Who said he should be showing?” I asked.

“Well, the trainer thinks it is important.” She quickly defended the ritualized dominant-sub-ordinant system of the competitive horse world. The story runs like this, “Your horse has SO much potential. He needs to train with me, and only me. I will be the trainer, you are the purse strings. I will allow you to ride your horse only to make you feel good enough to keep funding my career as a competitive horse trainer. After all you need me. You and your horse would be nothing without me.”

A gold mine indeed. But not a fun one. Not a mine full of riches, but rather a mine full of booby traps, disposable horses and lost souls.

The song birds in the old oak tree went silent. I suggested we take a long in-breath and feel the breeze tickling our faces. After a long pause, I asked, “What do you, Sheri, care about?  Sterling is your horse. What kind of relationship do you want to have with him?”

She rushed in with more defensiveness. “You know, I used to show a lot myself.  Competing was such an important experience for me. It taught me about focus and being assertive. I consider myself to be an assertive person. I don’t understand why I am so confused now. I don’t feel assertive at all.” She sighed.

A few more tears fell toward the dusty floor, smearing more make up on her face as she continued, “I don’t feel confident like I used to.”
And then came the ‘BUT’.

 “But I love to watch him be shown by this young trainer at the ranch. And, I really want to support the sport that I love so much that has done so much for me throughout my life. I love giving this young woman a chance to ride a great horse.”

I wanted to say so many things, but I waited. I listened to her tears fall as her breath got slower and deeper. Finally, her spirit self spoke authentically from the heart,
“Oh wow, I have forgotten about me. I have forgotten why I love horses in the first place.”

By the end of our first session, she was able to see the pieces of the puzzle before her:

o   She loved her horse.

o   He was a great athlete.

o   She didn’t feel safe riding him.

o   She liked giving the young woman a step up in her career as a horse trainer.

o   And she loved her horse. (I said that twice for a reason).

What mattered more? Her relationship with Sterling? Or his talent?

Over the next few sessions, she realized that just because Sterling was a great show horse, didn’t mean ‘he had to be’ a competitive show horse. Once this was in clear view, she began to address her fear of riding Sterling. Was he too much horse for her? Maybe he was too much because he, himself, didn’t really want to jump either, or perhaps he could feel her fear which made him fearful in return.

We discussed that regardless of her fear of jumping him, Sterling was her horse and she could choose whether to have him compete and whether she even wanted to ride him anymore.

“What other relationship could I have with him besides riding for show?” And so began a brand new inquiry for Sheri.

“Just because the trainer wants to show him doesn’t mean I have to go along with her plan.” This was a huge revelation for Sheri. Her whole reality of horses was about competition and winning ribbons. After spending time with my ranch horses and seeing them in the fields grazing with each other, mares and geldings alike, she began to see a whole new world open up for her and Sterling.

She finally saw what her intuition wanted her to see, “The most important thing is my relationship with Sterling. I can do this in so many more ways than I could have imagined a few weeks ago.” I smiled to myself as I imagined Sterling taking a huge sigh of relief.

When Sheri had a secret conversation with Sterling about this new possibility, she was able to hear Sterling in a whole new way through her newfound awareness.

“He told me that he didn’t care whether how showed or not. He really enjoys our time together more, grooming and taking walks.”

She ultimately decided, rather than forcing herself and Sterling back into the show ring, she would focus on forming a new, more authentic relationship with Sterling, not planned or subscribe by anybody but herself.

Once she allowed this new possibility to grow and explored her options, she practiced taking a stand with the horse trainer and the other people at the barn. What had started out as a whisper in our conversation, as if to keep a secret no one should hear, had grown into a courageous call to action, to change the paradigm of what her relationship with horses was, especially with Sterling. Sterling was no longer a servant meant to perform for power and prowess, and neither was she.

Riders like Sheri give trainers so much authority that over time they begin to feel that they don’t have a voice anymore. There is an unspoken agreement at many training stables that you do things the way the trainer says to without question. Of course, the show trainer wants the horse to be shown. It’s how he/she makes his living.

Thank goodness, we now live in a time when horses can be friends, partners, healers and teachers. Welcome the horse as a guide to your soul. Your spirit self knows the way and the horse waits patiently for you, as one by one we find a new way to be partners to horses, a new way to honor and respect horses for what they really give us when we let down the old walls of the outdated dominant, sub-ordinant perspective and transform into a ‘way of being’ that creates ‘oneness’ with horses.