 My ponies and I connected and enjoying the morning view. When I think about what makes a truly successful partnership between human and horse, it all comes down to mindset. The Two Step Way identifies 10 key elements that each of us needs to develop within ourselves before we can bring our best to any partnership, whether it's with horses or in other areas of life. These aren't just nice concepts to think about – they're practical tools that require daily work and conscious development.
Courage: A Foundation Built on Trust Let me start with courage, because I think people misunderstand what it really means. Courage isn't about having no fear – that's recklessness. True courage comes from trust: trust in yourself, trust in your environment, and trust in the other being you're working with. When I see someone struggling with fear around horses, I help them break it down into these components. If you don't trust yourself, we need to look at your skills. Maybe you need more knowledge, better timing, or clearer communication techniques. I remember working with a woman who was terrified every time she led her horse to the arena. When we examined her fear, we discovered she didn't know how to read horses and she didn’t trust her ability to handle her horse if he spooked. So we spent time building her confidence through teaching her how to read her horse, ground work exercises, showing her how to position herself safely, and how to redirect her horse's energy. Once she had those skills, her trust in herself grew, and with it, her courage. Sometimes the issue is lack of trust in the horse. If you believe your horse is unpredictable or dangerous, you need to address what's causing that behavior. Is the horse fearful himself? Is he in pain? Is it you? Has he learned bad habits from inconsistent handling? I've seen horses labeled as "difficult" when they were actually just responding to unclear communication or physical discomfort. When we addressed the root cause – whether it was dental issues, poor saddle fit, or simply the need for more consistent training – both horse and human could relax into trust. Then there's the environment. If you're working in a space that feels unsafe – maybe it's too small, too noisy, too busy or has poor footing – that underlying tension will affect everything you do. Sometimes you can’t control the environment so the best thing you can do is regulate your nervous system by staying present, calm and focused so you can help your horse cope with it. They will pick up on your calm energy. Friendship: Valuing All Parts of the Partnership The second element I focus on is friendship, and this ties directly into how we value ourselves, the horse, and the relationship itself. You have to believe that you have something to offer beyond just treats and feed. You have to see the horse as a good individual, not as someone out to get you. And you have to trust that the partnership itself is worth developing. I once had a client who constantly talked about her horse as if he were trying to make her life difficult. "He's being an asshole today," she'd say when he didn't want to stand for mounting. But when we examined the situation more closely, we discovered he had back soreness that made mounting uncomfortable. Once we addressed that and changed her approach, their entire relationship shifted. She started seeing him as a partner who was trying to communicate with her, rather than an adversary working against her. This shift in perspective changes everything. When you value what you bring to the partnership – your consistency, your willingness to learn, your commitment to the horse's wellbeing – you show up differently. When you value the horse as an intelligent being with his own thoughts and feelings, you listen more carefully to what he's telling you. And when you value the relationship itself, you're willing to put in the time and effort needed to develop it properly. Adaptation: The Art of Dynamic Balance Adaptation is about having the ability to yield and create balance in the partnership to achieve your goals. It requires asking yourself, "What do I need to be for this horse at this moment?" and then being ready to readjust with speed, fluidity, and focus as things change. Let me give you an example. If you're working with a horse who lacks confidence, you need to step up and be the confidence for the team. This might mean being more decisive in your leadership, providing clearer direction, or simply maintaining a calm, steady energy that helps the horse feel secure. On the other hand, if you're working with a horse that tends to be rushy or anxious, you need to slow down your own energy so he can slow down. You become the steady, relaxed presence that helps balance out his tendency to rush. I see this constantly in my work. A rider will come to me frustrated because their horse is "too forward" or "too lazy," but they haven't considered what they might need to adjust in themselves to create better balance. The rushy horse often needs a rider who can slow down their breathing, soften their seat, and resist the urge to match the horse's energy. The lazy horse might need someone who can bring more life and forward intention to their riding, without becoming nagging or harsh. This kind of adaptation requires constant awareness and the willingness to change your approach based on what's happening in the moment. It's not about having a fixed plan and sticking to it no matter what – it's about being responsive and flexible while still maintaining clear intention. Sometimes adaptation means changing your goals because they don’t suit you and/or the horse. Trust: Giving Up Control to Achieve Flow Trust, as I see it, is about giving up control to achieve flow. This might sound counterintuitive, especially when you're dealing with a 1,200-pound animal, but I've found it to be absolutely true. The more tightly you try to control everything, the more tension you create in the partnership. I see this most clearly when someone wants their horse to relax, but they're holding onto the lead rope or reins so tightly that they're actually creating the tension they're trying to eliminate. I'll ask them, "What's really going to happen if you let go a little? You're in an enclosed arena with a nice old horse – what's the worst that could happen if he moves his feet?" Usually, they realize their grip is more about their own anxiety than any real danger. This principle extends far beyond the physical. We've learned that once we stop hanging on to a horse so tightly – mentally and physically – amazing things become possible. I can gallop from point A to point B with loose reins because it's not really about the control I'm exerting in that moment. The horse and I have developed enough trust and communication that he doesn't need me to micromanage every step. In fact, he goes more easily when I give up that excessive control. The key is learning to distinguish between appropriate boundaries and excessive control. We still need leadership, clear communication, and safety awareness. But within that framework, there's tremendous power in learning to trust the process and let things flow. Patience: Creating Space for Natural Timing Patience is about giving up concern that something won’t happen, and allowing space and time for things to happen. In our instant-gratification world, we often assume that if something doesn't happen immediately, it's not going to happen at all. But sometimes the thing we want is about to occur – we just haven't given it enough time or space to develop naturally. This applies to everything from waiting for a horse to process a new concept to allowing a relationship to develop at its natural pace. I might spend an entire session just letting a horse get comfortable with me being in his space, without pushing for any particular outcome. To an observer, it might look like nothing is happening, but I'm creating the foundation for everything that will follow. Sometimes patience means recognizing that the horse is thinking about what you've asked, even if he hasn't responded yet. Other times, it means accepting that today isn't the day for a particular lesson, and being willing to adjust your expectations accordingly. The willingness to give things time and space often allows breakthroughs that would never happen under pressure. Patience also keeps us from being reactive. It allows us the time to process our emotions and to respond instead of react. Integrity: Your Highest Standards and Gentle Accountability Integrity is about guiding yourself by your highest standards while forgiving yourself for failures and realigning with those standards. It means doubling down on your efforts to be your best self, even when you fall short. We all set intentions – I'm not going to get angry anymore, I'm not going to rush, I'm going to be more patient. But then we're human, and we blow through those intentions. The key is what happens next. Do we give up on our standards, or do we forgive ourselves, learn from what happened, and recommit to being the person we want to be? I mess this up regularly. I'll tell myself I'm going to slow down and be more present, and then something gets on my mind and I rush through my routine with my horse. I might ignore my horse's subtle body language telling me he needs a moment, and instead of pausing to respect his wish, I continue to put his halter on because I'm feeling pressured for time. When I catch myself doing this, I don't just shrug it off. I acknowledge that I acted against my own standards, and I double down on my commitment to do better next time. The more we correct ourselves, notice our patterns, and return to our intentions, the better we get at making our best behavior the majority of our practice rather than the exception. This creates a positive cycle where our standards actually become our default way of being, rather than something we have to constantly fight for. Perseverance: New Approaches and Steady Effort Perseverance means trying things in new ways and sticking to hard work until flow and achievement happen. It's about not being so result-oriented that you give up when progress is slow, and learning to find satisfaction in the process itself. I have a perfect example of this in my work with Ivan, a horse I've been working with for almost a year. When I started, I could barely touch the tip of his nose. Now, after patient work, I can touch him from the tip of his nose up to his forehead and he enjoys it. But, that's about twelve inches of progress in a year, and I'm genuinely pleased with it because I understand what it represents in terms of his trust and comfort. I am truly respecting his pace and not rushing him. This kind of work requires a complete shift in how we measure success. Instead of looking for dramatic breakthroughs, we learn to value small, consistent progress. We keep showing up, keep trying different approaches, and keep faith in the process even when results are slow to appear. The key is finding ways to stay engaged and curious rather than frustrated. Each session teaches us something, even if it's not what we expected to learn. Every small step forward is meaningful, even if it doesn't look impressive to outside observers. Compassion: Standing Strong While Understanding Compassion is having love and care for others while standing strong with them to pull them up. This is what I call avoiding the "rabbit hole" – you can understand and empathize with someone's struggle without getting pulled down into it yourself. With horses, this shows up most commonly when people encounter a nervous or fearful horse and think they're being kind by matching that energy. They become anxious because the horse is anxious, which only escalates the situation. True compassion means feeling the horse's fear,or pain, understanding it, but standing strong as the calm, confident presence that can help him through it. I see this with traumatized horses too. A mare who has lost a foal doesn't need someone to come to her with pity and sadness, even though those feelings are understandable. What helps her is someone who can acknowledge her sorrow, stand with her in her grief, but not get lost in it. This requires emotional strength and the ability to be present with difficult feelings without being overwhelmed by them. The same principle applies to working with people. When someone is frustrated with their horse or discouraged about their progress, I can listen to their concerns and validate their feelings without taking on their discouragement as my own. I can be a source of strength and perspective that helps lift them up, and motivate them rather than someone who gets pulled into their spiral. Stillness and Solitude: Processing Your Experience Stillness and solitude are essential for processing your experiences. This means creating time and space for your mind to work without the constant input of media, other people's opinions, or external distractions. It's about cultivating a quiet, curious mind that can make sense of what you've been through. It’s often helpful to review your experiences and ask yourself questions about what happened when you were working with your horse. I've learned this through my drives home from work. I travel about two hours each way to many of my appointments, and I've found that some of my most valuable insights come during that quiet drive home when I'm not playing music or listening to anything. I just let my mind replay the experiences I've had that day, and patterns start to emerge that I didn't notice in the moment. For example, I once worked with a woman whose horse was relaxed in the barn but became anxious in the indoor arena. During our session, she mentioned that they used the horse for therapeutic riding, and described how the sessions worked. On my drive home, all the pieces came together – the horse was associating the arena with the stress of having an unbalanced rider on his back, and was showing his discomfort by becoming anxious when led into that space. These insights don't come from trying to figure everything out in the moment. They come from giving your mind the quiet space to process and connect dots that weren't obvious during the actual experience. Sometimes these realizations solve problems that seemed much more complicated than they actually were. I often dictate notes on my drive home from working with horses, or write them down later on. Doing: The Greatest Teacher Finally, there's doing – getting yourself physically engaged in the work. This is the greatest teacher of all. Until you actually try something, you don't really know what you know or what you don't know. You may be more capable than you ever expected, or you may discover gaps in your knowledge that weren't apparent from reading about the subject. I can guarantee you that two hours spent with a horse will teach you more than two hours spent reading about horses. This doesn't mean education isn't valuable, but there's no substitute for hands-on experience. When you're actually working with a horse, you're forced to make real-time decisions, to feel the subtle changes in energy and communication, to develop your timing and intuition in ways that no book can teach. I see people get stuck in endless preparation – reading every training manual, watching every video, attending every clinic – but never actually spending time working with horses. They think they need to know everything before they start, but the truth is that the doing itself is what builds real knowledge, confidence, and partnership. Even if you knew nothing at all, the combination of yourself and the horse would be your biggest teachers. You discover what works and what doesn't through direct experience. You learn to read the horse's responses and adjust accordingly. You develop the feel and timing that can only come from repetition and practice. You build the relationship together through time spent in each others company. These elements of the Two Step Way – courage, friendship, adaptation, trust, patience, integrity, perseverance, compassion, stillness, and doing – form the foundation of the mindset needed for true partnership. They're not separate skills to master one by one, but interconnected aspects of personal development that support and strengthen each other. The beautiful thing about working on these qualities is that they don't just make you better with horses – they make you better in all your relationships and endeavors. When you develop the ability to adapt to what's needed in the moment, to trust the process while maintaining clear intentions, to stand strong in compassion without losing yourself, these skills serve you everywhere. This is why I see working with horses as such profound personal development work. The horses demand authenticity, presence, and emotional regulation in ways that humans often don't. They give us immediate feedback about our internal state and challenge us to become the kind of people we want to be. Through developing these qualities within ourselves, we become not just better horse people, but better human beings. For more information contact the https://twostepway.com/
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 Not the tree the message was from, but the very tree my father climbed when he was small. I saw it again a few years back, when I went to Oregon for a visit. Today, I tried talking to a tree. First, I got present, then I listened to the tree, and the tree said that it liked the gentle wind. The gentle wind made it feel alive and connected. It also informed me that stronger winds were necessary to keep trees healthy. Adversity, like a strong wind, clears out dead wood and encourages new growth.
It seemed a storm might be coming, and the tree was happy, with a type of anticipation of getting something it needed, which was the rain. The tree also told me that it liked everything that was connected and knew that it was. It said to me that it didn’t mind being killed if it was still supporting life but objected to being used in other ways. It felt that humans often lack gratitude for all that the trees, plants and animals provide them with. They sense humans have a lot that they might have forgotten. Trees really enjoy the company of other trees. They love the connection of sharing the wind, rain and sun. They know how to endure and how to thrive when given an opportunity. Soil holds them upright. Soil connects them. They deeply revere it. They said it was important to know and love the things that connect you and keep you upright. I said thank you to the tree and wished it the rain it was anticipating. I will listen to a tree again. They are wise and full of wisdom lost to humankind because we think it ridiculous to talk with trees and rocks. But behind the wall of imagination lies the truth. The wind blows, the tree limb bows, and maybe this time, you look up and take note. Opportunity is on the breeze that waves the limb. Look up and listen. |
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