Lessons from the horse whisperer

BeBe assured us the short video by “horse psychologist” Pat Parelli would yield interesting insights and lead to great discussions throughout the weekend. But as she dimmed the lights and kicked off the women’s retreat with the DVD, I was skeptical.

I was, as usual, completely wrong. The 20 minute presentation didn’t just prompt good conversations around the campfire—it served as a powerful object lesson for my relationship with God.

In the video, Parelli takes a horse that’s afraid of tarps, barrels, and its own shadow and transforms it into a brave stallion that jumps over obstacles and runs across tarps. He changes the horse’s behavior with his own (trademarked) brand of horse psychology which includes recognizing the animal’s instinctual curiosity and its desire for leadership from humans.

After establishing a “language” with the horse by teaching it simple signals for moving in different directions, Parelli slowly, casually led the horse to the barrels and tarp. Each time he allowed the horse to sniff or paw at the foreign objects, slowly allowing it to build confidence in the situation and in his leadership without forcing any action.

“I want the horse to respect me and my decision-making,” Corelli says to the audience, explaining the relatively slow process. “I could make him walk across this tarp, but the principle is more important than the goal. I want him to do it on his own.”

As the horse inches closer and shows more interest, Corelli says softly, “If I were you I’d trust my judgment. If I say it’s okay to walk there, it’s okay.”

Eventually the horse realizes this truth and leaps proudly over the barrels, then runs joyfully across the tarp. The things that held him back now pose no threat because he trusts the judgment of his leader.

I don’t need to list all the parallels for you (although I did watch the video three times during the weekend and journaled about my similarities to that horse). Little things frighten me. I often need try after try to work up my courage. I sometimes need many glimpses of the same situation to feel confident.

Meanwhile my Leader patiently builds a shared language with me, teaching me to obey clear signals and then leading me toward the scary territory. He graciously waits as I repeatedly back away and circle around my fears. He whispers to me, “I want you to trust my judgment. If I say it’s okay to walk here, it’s okay.”

And even though he could easily skip a learning process that’s long and hard for both of us, in his wisdom the principle is often more important than the goal.