08/05/2025
An important lesson for how we are with ourselves first and foremost, and then with others, people and animals, even the food we make. 💖🙏🏻☯️🧘🏻♀️
https://www.facebook.com/100040925541248/posts/1537117294329107/
Letting Go of the Lesson Plan
We’re taught to show up with a plan.
With goals.
With structure.
That a good session has progression, clarity, and results.
But what if the most profound moments with horses don’t come from lesson plans, but from letting go of them?
What if connection doesn’t need a curriculum?
The Comfort of Structure
Lesson plans give us a sense of safety.
We know what’s coming next. We know what “success” looks like.
We can measure improvement, chart milestones, feel productive.
But horses don’t live in linear time the way we do.
They don’t care if we’re hitting our marks.
They care if we’re present.
And when we’re focused on what should happen next, we risk missing what’s happening right now.
The Subtle Violence of Agenda
Even a soft, kind plan becomes a pressure when we’re attached to it.
“I just want to work on walking calmly today.”
But what if the horse wants to run? Or rest? Or doesn’t want to engage at all?
“I thought we’d work on yielding to pressure.”
But what if they’re trying to tell us they’ve had enough pressure already?
When we show up with expectations, we may unintentionally override the horse’s signals in service of a “good session.”
What Happens When We Drop the Script?
When we step into the pasture or paddock without a plan, we begin to see the horse more clearly.
We notice the flick of an ear, the shift in breath, the weight of silence.
We become students of the moment, not masters of a method.
The horse becomes not a project, but a presence.
And suddenly, we’re not guiding them toward something.
We’re walking beside them into whatever this moment holds.
The Wisdom in Wandering
Sometimes, the most meaningful sessions look like “nothing.”
☁️ Standing in the shade while the wind stirs the grass.
☁️ Sitting nearby as the horse grazes, choosing nearness without pressure.
☁️ Following their movement with no need to direct it.
☁️ Breathing together, without a word spoken.
These moments don’t “advance” training.
They deepen trust.
They soften defenses.
They say: You don’t have to be anything other than who you are with me.
Let the Relationship Lead
This isn’t to say guidance is wrong.
But what if the relationship is the plan?
What if we measure success in moments of consent, curiosity, and connection—not in behaviors achieved?
The horse might offer something incredible when they’re not being asked to perform.
And so might we.
Letting go of the lesson plan isn’t giving up on learning.
It’s remembering that the deepest lessons rarely come from the page.
They come from presence, trust, and the courage to follow instead of lead.