Every Wednesday morning for the past nine months, you could have found me doing just that—picking up horse poo! Thirty-six visits and more than 200 hours of voluntary work later, I can honestly say it has been one of the most unexpectedly rewarding experiences of my life. It may sound mundane, but there’s something deeply meditative—even Zen-like—about it. You might wonder, why?

Because it offered me the chance to truly meet the herd.

My friends at PaintedHorse—both human and animal (horses, dogs, goats, and sheep alike)—graciously welcomed me into their world. Through this simple, rhythmic work, I was given time to observe, to listen, and to slowly become part of their community. I was, and remain, deeply grateful.

“Finally, he described how human beings could tune themselves to the equine frequency by living with a herd and mimicking horse behaviour patterns—moving when they move, resting when they rest, eating when they eat, playing when they play.”

— Linda Kohanov, The Tao of Equus

About ten years ago, I completed three Equine Facilitated Learning (EFL) courses. I thought I had a good understanding of how horses communicate and cooperate—but my recent time at PaintedHorse took that awareness to an entirely new level.

As the horses began to trust me as a temporary member of their herd, something extraordinary happened. They started to sense subtle shifts in my energy. They reflected my inner state—my suppressed emotions, unspoken thoughts, and lingering tensions—through their behaviour. Horses, as prey animals, survive by being acutely sensitive to the energy around them. In a human context, this translates into an uncanny ability to mirror our emotions and expose what lies beneath the surface.

Over time, our connection deepened through various EFL-inspired exercises. But the most profound experience resembled family constellation work. In this practice, the horses stepped forward as representatives—taking on roles that symbolically reflected members of my own family, including myself.

Could such a thing truly be possible? Skepticism aside, the results spoke for themselves. The horses revealed dynamics within my family system that I hadn’t been able to see clearly before. By observing their interactions and placements within the space, I began to understand the emotional undercurrents shaping my relationships. From this newfound clarity, alternative patterns of behaviour began to emerge—and remarkably, the horses appeared to model these healthier dynamics right in front of me.

“By learning to recognise how her body language didn’t match her message … she was surprised to find that she could get the desired result almost effortlessly.”

— Linda Kohanov, The Tao of Equus

Reflections

What began as a simple act of service—cleaning up after horses—became a profound journey of self-discovery and energetic alignment. The herd taught me about presence, congruence, and trust. They showed me that communication doesn’t always need words, and that healing can unfold quietly through shared rhythm and mutual awareness.

Among the horses, I learned to move when they move, rest when they rest, and listen—not just with my ears, but with my whole being.