I was listening to an equestrian podcast and a horse trainer was on talking about curiosity and getting a horse to think and engage with its world rather than shutting down. As a horse person, I found what this trainer was talking about very fascinating. First, because I’ve been in barns with horses who had shut down or pretty much hit burnout due to being pushed too far too soon, and though I am far removed from the high level FEI dressage, I have to wonder if some of what we’re seeing there, or in the futurity/world champion level reining circles, isn’t much of the same. Where horses are pushed too far, too fast and they just shut down. They go on autopilot. They do what they’re told because they have to and because they know they don’t have any say in the matter.
But the more I listened to this trainer, the more I realized that a lot of what he was talking about applied to those of us with neurodivergent brains too. I know for me, there comes a point where if someone pushes enough, I just shut down. I do what is necessary if it’s something I have to do (like revisions to a college paper or working with a publisher), but my heart isn’t in it. I don’t give a damn about the outcome, only that whatever I’m doing is DONE. And then I’m done. I walk away. No fucks are given.
This trainer was talking about horses who get girthy, who when the girth is tightened (as in the picture accompanying this blog) they get cranky and might even lash out. He then said, it’s no wonder that the riders getting on those horses feel as if they have to use bigger spurs or a crop. Because after having so much pressure applied to the girth, all they can think about is the tightness around their barrels and they can’t process, let alone think about, what they’re being asked to do. And boy did this sound familiar. Being in a workplace with bright, overhead, fluorescent lighting — being forced to do a job and being forced to do so through severe burnout (because at the time I didn’t know I was neurodivergent) and you can bet I shut down, got a little cranky, and became dull to my surroundings. It’s also no wonder I turned to munching at my desk as a way to stimulate some level of dopamine to get me through the day.
And honestly, as much as this applies to my neurodivergent community, I think a lot of people, even if they are neurotypical can see themselves here to some extent. Probably just not as much as those of us with neurodivergent brains.
What can horses teach us about pressure?
I think it’s obvious. Do you want an equine partner who is thinking, taking in its environment, and willing to keep both you and itself safe? Or do you want a robot that you can push button your away around the arena and collect ribbons like trophies? Even if you only ride in an arena, most horse people, at least the ones who care about the horse as a co-equal member of this partnership, want the former.
And that means meeting the horse where they are at and not pressuring them into shut down. For us, it means knowing when to let off the gas a bit and allow curiosity to take over. Approaching our lives with a curious mind, thinking about “what if” or “wonder how that works” helps ease the pressure that the capitalism cooker wants to keep us under. If we can approach a thousand pound animal with curiosity and mutual respect, then surely we can approach our fellow human beings in that way too.
And maybe, just maybe, if you feel yourself shutting down, ask, “where can I release some pressure?”. You might be surprised at the outcome.
I’m probably going to have more to say on this topic, but for now I just want to think about it, be curious about it, and we’ll see where that leads.
