What Cisco reminded me about being seen, accepted, and listening

The last two times I left Due West Ranch after spending time with the horses, I found myself carrying home something I hadn't realized I needed. And both times, that something came from an unexpected connection with Cisco.

Let me explain.

A few weeks ago, I arrived at Due West after having a pretty emotional week personally. I thought I had worked through it and showed up feeling present and ready to support a coaching client.

We had planned to begin our work around boundaries, and I had initially thought we would work with Cisco. But when I arrived, the farrier was working with Stormy, so I decided to begin with him.

As the coaching session progressed, I noticed Cisco watching us from the pasture. Then he started walking toward us. He quietly positioned himself beside me and stayed there while my client and I talked.

Later, when we moved into the arena, both horses were free to move about as they chose. My client chose to work with Cisco, but before long, he returned to my side. She continued working with Stormy.

I found myself wondering, What is happening here? What role is Cisco taking in this experience?

When the coaching session was finished, I returned both horses to the pasture and said goodbye to my client. And then something happened that I didn't expect.

Cisco walked across the pasture and positioned himself beside the fence near my vehicle. And he waited.

As I loaded my car, I couldn't help but give him a little scratch, snuggle and I thanked him for supporting the session. There was something about that experience I couldn't quite put into words yet. I had to sit with it and figure out what it meant to me. I even called a fellow coach and friend to talk it through.

A week or two later, I returned to Due West for some personal time with the horses and to do some equine massage as I worked toward completing a certification.

I chose Cisco.

I was curious about what would happen this time. Was the connection I had felt with him before simply a one-time experience, or was there something more to it?

I spent some time brushing him and giving him a massage, then I gave him a couple of cookies. When I was finished, I returned him to the pasture,took off his halter and turned him loose.

He stayed.

He wrapped his head around me in a way that felt like a hug. When I walked away, he followed. When I moved to another area, he followed me there. I found myself singing and laughing. And when I finally left the pasture, he put his head over the fence and watched me go.

Once again, I noticed what was happening in my body. My shoulders relaxed. My breathing became deeper. I felt lighter. I felt free to simply be myself. There was no judgment. No one telling me I was too much or not enough. No one telling me what I should feel, should do, or should be.

I felt seen. I felt accepted.

And I noticed how much my body responded to that.

An experience is yours to understand.

When I shared my experience with someone I love, they had their own interpretation of what had happened.

And that's okay.

However, their interpretation wasn't mine. It wasn't their experience. It was mine. Only I could decide what that experience with Cisco meant to me.

That distinction has stayed with me.

How often do we allow someone else's interpretation of our experience to become our own? How often do we listen to what we should feel, should do, or should be instead of slowing down long enough to notice what is actually happening within us?

Spending time with Cisco reminded me of how deeply I love, how willing I am to nurture, and who I am when I feel supported, accepted, and wanted. It reminded me that sometimes we need to slow down enough to listen—to notice what is working, what needs our attention, and what wants to return.

And perhaps most importantly, to remember that we don't have to figure it all out alone.

These experiences are one of the many things I love about Equus coaching.

I can't tell you exactly what will happen when you spend time with a horse. And I wouldn't want to. Your experience will be yours. The horse isn't there to give you an answer. The horse is part of the experience.

My role is to coach alongside you—to help you slow down, notice, explore, ask questions, and make meaning from what is happening for you.

There is no right experience. No required outcome. Simply an opportunity to listen. And that's what inspired my October series:

When We Listen

Each Saturday in October, I'll be at Due West Ranch offering a small Equus coaching experience centered around listening. Come for one Saturday, a few, or all five.

These gatherings are a chance to slow down, be curious, explore, and make space to listen—to yourself, to what's happening around you, and to what might become clearer when you pause.

This isn't about riding horses or knowing anything about horses. The horses are simply part of the process.

I can't promise what you will discover. What I can promise is that you will be seen, heard, and supported in the process. What becomes possible when we listen?

Learn more about When We Listen, see the October dates and details, and sign up at www.knhcoaching.com/event-list.

I'd love for you to join me.

With Gratitude,

Kathy Shepard