The Way Of The Horse, Harry's Retreat Fenn Lane, Mablethorpe (2026)

11/01/2026

He didn’t come here to talk.

Some mornings, words don’t help.
So he stood quietly, forehead resting against the horse’s head, breathing the same cold air, listening to the same silence.

This horse has been there through the dark, early mornings.
The long days.
The changing seasons that test them both.

No judgement. No questions. Just presence.

People often think horses are strong because of their size.
But this is the real strength.

Knowing when to stand still for someone who needs it.
In that moment, nothing else matters.
Not the past.
Not tomorrow.

Just the trust being built —
one quiet day at a time. 🐎🖤

11/01/2026

This is the ethos that guides our work.

We believe healing doesn’t happen because someone tells you what’s wrong with you.

It happens when you feel safe enough to listen to what’s already there, what you feel and what you need .

At The Way of the Horse, we don’t work to fix people.
We work to create the conditions where the nervous system can soften, settle, and reorganise in its own time. Teaching what the wise elders knew….

Horses are central to this — not as tools, not as techniques — but as sentient beings who respond honestly to what is present.
They meet people without judgement, diagnosis, or expectation.

Our work is grounded in somatic experiencing, relational safety, and deep respect for the body’s wisdom.
We understand that behaviour, emotion, and coping patterns all make sense when seen through the lens of protection.

We work with:
adults who are tired of pushing and explaining

children who need regulation before learning

facilitators who want to work ethically, slowly, and with integrity

There is no rushing here.

No performance of healing.
No pressure to be ready.
Just space.
Presence.

And learning how to feel safe enough to come back into relationship — with yourself, with others, and with the world around you.

This isn’t about becoming someone new.
It’s about remembering who you are, in a body that finally feels supported.
🐎🖤

11/01/2026

Anger isn’t the problem.
It never was.

Anger is often the first part of us that knew something wasn’t right.
Before the words.
Before the understanding.
Before we learned to stay quiet, agreeable, or strong.

For many people, anger was labelled as dangerous.
Too much.
Unwelcome.
Something to control or suppress.

So it went underground.
Into the body.
Into tension, fatigue, shutdown, or tears that didn’t quite make sense.

Horses don’t fear anger.
They read it as information.

They notice when energy rises.
They notice when something wants to move.
And they respond to what’s underneath — not the story we tell about it.

Anger, when met with safety, doesn’t explode.
It clarifies.
It protects.

It restores boundaries that were crossed long ago.
This work isn’t about getting rid of anger.

It’s about listening to what it’s been trying to say — patiently, respectfully, and without shame.

Because when anger is finally allowed to belong,
it often turns back into strength, truth, and a deep sense of self-respect. 🐎🔥

10/01/2026

Nothing ever goes away until it teaches us what we need to learn.

Some things don’t leave when we expect them to.
They circle back.
Not louder — just more familiar.

The same feelings.
The same patterns.
The same places in the body that tighten or brace.

This isn’t because we’ve failed.
And it isn’t because we haven’t tried hard enough.

It’s because the body learns slowly — and safely.

Horses understand this instinctively.
They don’t rush understanding.
They don’t demand insight.
They stay present until something settles enough to shift on its own.

What returns isn’t there to punish us.
It’s there because something still needs gentleness.
Or time.
Or support that wasn’t available before.

When the lesson is learned in the body — not forced through the mind —
the holding changes.
The repetition loosens.
And often, without effort or drama,
what once stayed no longer needs to.

Not everything leaves quickly.
But nothing stays without reason. 🐎🖤

10/01/2026

16,000 hearts gathered here — and I’m deeply humbled! 🤍

What started as a quiet offering has slowly become a space of connection, care, and shared reverence — for horses, for humans, and for the wisdom that lives between us. I never take that lightly.

This page has always moved at a different pace.
Not rushed.
Not performative.
Rooted in presence, gentleness, and respect.

It’s a place for those who know the power of listening — especially when life has asked us simply to endure, and we’re learning how to soften back into living fully again.

The horses remain my constant guides. Their teachings aren’t loud, yet they transform everything. They remind me — again and again — that truth doesn’t need to shout to be felt.

To those who’ve been here through many seasons: thank you for walking beside me with such steadiness.
To those who’ve just arrived: welcome — may you feel held and seen here.

And to the horses, past and present, whose presence shapes all I share — my gratitude runs deeper than words.

As this community continues to grow, my intention stays the same:
to offer something honest, nourishing, and deeply rooted — for both people and horses.

Life has unraveled me before. And now, it feels like the moment to fully embody Fire Horse energy — rising not from urgency, but from truth; expanding not to prove, but to *be*.

Thank you for sharing this path with me — heart, hoof, and soul 🐎

10/01/2026

Sometimes plans fall apart right at the point of departure.

We were already on our way to the station (1.5 hours away) when we found out the course we were travelling to London for had been cancelled due to illness. One of those moments where disappointment hits before you’ve even had time to brace for it.

We’d planned the weekend carefully.
Time away. Someone to look after the horses day and night and the dogs.
And it also happened to be Derek’s birthday.

So there was a pause.
That familiar moment of feeling let down. OMG what are we going to do? Do we go or do we turn around and go home and have a weekend of decorating , taking care of ponies and working .
Of noticing the tightness, the frustration, as this wasn’t how it was meant to go.

And then… a choice.

Not to push the feeling away.
Not to pretend it didn’t matter.
But to sit with it, acknowledge it, and ask a different question: Ive learnt to sit with the feelings rather than react. Years ago I would have lunged at the person who let me down but now I think...

What do we need right now?

Instead of forcing ourselves to make the weekend “productive,” we let it become nourishing. We slowed down. We walked. We talked. We rested. We topped up our cups in quieter, simpler ways. Just being together with no expectations is precious.

Life doesn’t always offer us what we expect.
But it often offers us what we actually need — if we’re willing to notice.

This weekend reminded me that regulation isn’t about things going to plan.
It’s about how we meet what happens when they don’t.

And sometimes, choosing to let the universe choose what is right is what we need to do...Sometimes its just not ment to be 🖤✨

10/01/2026

Grief doesn’t always look like tears.

Sometimes it looks like tiredness that doesn’t lift.
Like carrying on when something inside you has stopped moving. We have all experienced that
Like loving deeply — and having nowhere for that love to go.

We learn to hide grief well.
To function.
To stay useful.
To not make it uncomfortable for anyone else.

But grief lives in the body.
And the body remembers what the mind tries to move past.

Horses sense this without needing to know the details.
They meet the heaviness without asking us to explain it.
They don’t try to cheer us up or pull us forward.

They stay. They help us belong !
And in that staying, something softens.
Not because the grief disappears —
but because it is finally allowed to be held.

Nothing is wrong with you if grief still visits.
It comes back when there is enough safety to feel it.

And sometimes, being witnessed is the beginning of learning how to breathe around it again.

10/01/2026

The Weight They Help Us Carry

There’s a kind of heaviness many people learn to live with.
Not dramatic.
Not always visible.
Just… there.

The weight of holding it together.
Of being the strong one.
Of carrying things no one ever asked about.

Grief that was never named.
Anger that had nowhere to go.
Love that didn’t get to land.
Horses notice this before we do.

They don’t ask for the story.
They don’t rush it away.
They simply stand close enough that the load doesn’t have to be carried alone.

Something shifts when a body realises it doesn’t have to brace.
When the weight can be shared — even for a moment.
When nothing is required except being exactly as you are.
This is one of the quiet gifts of being with horses.

They don’t take the weight from us.
They help us remember how to hold it differently.

And sometimes, that’s enough to breathe again.

How many of you have done this when life has got on top of you? 🐎🖤

09/01/2026

Not everything needs to be understood straight away.
Sometimes something simply resonates.

A pause.
A feeling of being met.
A quiet yes in the body.
This work isn’t just something I write about.

It’s something we practice — slowly, safely, and with care.

With horses.
With the body.
With people who are ready to be where they are, not where they think they should be.

Some come to rest.
Some come to learn.
Some come because they know something is shifting and they want support as it does.

There’s no rush.
No fixing.
No note-taking your way through it.
Just space.
Presence.

And the kind of learning that happens when you’re finally allowed to slow down enough to feel safe again.

If this speaks to you, trust that.
That’s usually where the next step begins. 🐎🖤

09/01/2026

When the body begins to lead
There’s a moment after change
when the mind wants to rush ahead again.

To plan.
To explain.
To make sense of everything that’s shifted.

But the body already knows.
It knows when to pause.
When to step forward.
When to soften instead of brace.

Horses live here all the time.
They don’t move from story or strategy.
They move from sensation.
From breath.
From what feels safe now.

When we begin to listen in the same way, something changes.
We stop overriding ourselves. We stop forcing clarity before it’s ready.

The body doesn’t shout.

It offers quiet signals.
A tightening.
A release.
A sense of yes… or not yet.

This is where real trust is rebuilt.
Not in the head.

But in the felt sense of being alive, present, and enough.
And once the body leads,
life doesn’t need so much effort anymore. 🐎🌿

09/01/2026

After the crossing, life doesn’t get louder.
It gets clearer.

We often imagine transformation as something dramatic.
A breakthrough. A release. A moment where everything changes at once.

But what I’ve seen — again and again — is something quieter.

After the dark, there’s usually a softening.
Less urgency.
Less noise.
Less need to explain or prove.

The body starts to trust again.

You begin to notice what no longer fits without having to fight it.
You make simpler choices.
You stop pushing where there’s resistance.

Horses show this beautifully.

After a moment of intensity, they don’t analyse it.
They don’t replay it.
They shake, breathe, and return to presence.

That’s often what integration looks like for us too.

Not becoming someone new —
but coming back to what was always there, now felt more fully.

If you’re in a quieter season after a big shift,
nothing has gone wrong.

You’re not stuck.
You’re settling.

And settling is where clarity begins. 🐎✨

08/01/2026

People often ask where these words come from.

The ones about fire and darkness.
About anger, truth, and being met without judgement.
They come from the work itself.

This is who we are.
And this is what we do.

We work alongside horses — not to fix, train, or push — but to listen.
To notice what the body is holding.
To create spaces where people can slow down enough to feel safe again.

Our work supports both adults and children, meeting each person where they are.
Some arrive overwhelmed or shut down.
Some arrive carrying anger they’ve never been allowed to express.
Some arrive simply knowing something needs to change, even if they don’t yet have the words.

Using somatic, nervous-system-informed work with horses, we help people reconnect with themselves in a way that talking alone often can’t reach.
The horses respond to truth — breath, tension, presence — and in that response, something shifts.

This year, we’re bringing this work more fully into the light.

✨ Retreats for those who need space to rest, reset, and transform
✨ Discovery days for anyone curious about Equine Facilitated Learning
✨ Pathways for those who feel called to take Equine Facilitation work into the world professionally
✨ People who want the pathway for discovery for themselves to experience
✨ And Me Days gentle, grounded spaces for people who simply want peace, connection, and time with the horses, just being and to soak up the energy and atmosphere
✨Equisound - This will blow your mind - Sound healing with horses !
✨Family days - Discover the power of being together with horses on our Discovery family days. Showing you the things we do with children and schools during term time

Whether you’re here to learn, to heal, or to remember who you are beneath the noise — there is a place for you.

The words you’ve been reading aren’t just poetry.
They’re lived.
They’re practiced.
They’re held in real moments, with real people, and real horses.

This year is about bringing the inner journey into lived experience.
About walking the path, not just writing about it.
And if something here speaks to you —
that’s not by accident.

Jump on our email list for our offer, updates, newsletters and special Early Bird Offers.
Click this link now to Sign Up for our Email List!
thewayofthehorse.co.uk/contact-us-2/

The Way Of The Horse

11/01/2026

11/01/2026

11/01/2026

10/01/2026

10/01/2026

10/01/2026

10/01/2026

10/01/2026

09/01/2026

09/01/2026

09/01/2026

08/01/2026

Address

Telephone

Website

Alerts

Contact The Practice

Shortcuts

Share

Category