True Nature Equine Bodywork & Wellness

10/18/2026

I’m in a weekend clinic and someone introduced themselves and said that they followed me on Facebook and wondered whether I had been writing much lately.

I have not.

It’s been feeling too much like contributing to the vast cacophony of talking past one another that is social media.

But this (actual in-person) conversation reminded me of my intent all along: that no matter what the algorithm does with my words, no matter how many people read it or see it or not, I’ve always felt that if just one person takes something helpful from anything I write, to think about something differently, to not feel so alone, that’s worth the effort.

I am not an influencer in the traditional sense with a bazillion followers (as I write that I realize how much that sounds like a cult). But, here’s the thing: we are all influencers, every day, to the people around us. Our decisions, our actions (or lack thereof) make a difference because all those collective actions and decisions add up to movements for change, to demands that create market shifts that trickle up, down and sideways.

Sometimes just being willing to ask a question is an act of bravery and makes you an agent of change. There’s a lot in the horse world that needs to be questioned. Sometimes breaking away from the accepted norms feels risky and uncomfortable. This probably means you are headed in the right direction.

And this is, at the end of the day, what I think we are helping each other with in our own barns, in our own communities: finding a better path, making adjustments, learning new things, letting go of outdated ways and muddling our way through to do better for the horses.

We are all pebbles in the pond making ripples that add up to waves of change - especially when we lean into collaboration and curiosity, away from judgement and ridicule.

We are, each of us, every day, the change. I think we need to remember that.

09/25/2026

Really excellent explanation of what spookiness can really mean. Behavior = Communication, always.

When Spooky Behavior Is Really About Coping Capacity

When a horse spooks, many people immediately focus on the object, sound, or situation that triggered the reaction.

But the trigger is often only part of the story.

A horse’s response to any situation is influenced not only by what is happening around them, but also by what is happening within them.

A horse that feels comfortable, balanced, coordinated, and capable of responding effectively to its environment may notice something concerning and quickly return to a relaxed state.

A horse that is experiencing discomfort, fatigue, pain, stress, physical restriction, illness, sensory overload, or reduced confidence may respond very differently to the exact same situation.

This is because coping capacity matters.

Every horse has a finite ability to process information, adapt to challenges, and manage stress. When that capacity becomes compromised, situations that might otherwise feel manageable can begin to feel overwhelming.

From the horse’s perspective, leaving the situation may genuinely seem like the safest and most sensible option.

In many cases, what appears to be “overreacting” may actually be a normal response from a horse that does not feel fully capable of handling the circumstances it is facing.

Physical discomfort can play a significant role.

Pain, muscular tension, movement restrictions, poor saddle fit, dental issues, hoof discomfort, gastric ulcers, illness, or unresolved injuries can all reduce a horse’s ability to cope with environmental stressors. When the body is already working harder than normal, the nervous system often becomes more vigilant and reactive.

Likewise, mental and emotional stress can accumulate.

Changes in routine, inadequate turnout, social stress, travel, training pressure, lack of sleep, or repeated exposure to challenging situations without adequate recovery can all contribute to a horse operating closer to its coping threshold.

This does not mean that every spooky horse is painful or that every spook indicates a serious problem.

Horses are prey animals and occasional startle responses are completely normal.

However, when a horse becomes consistently reactive, unusually vigilant, or progressively more difficult to settle, it can be worthwhile to look beyond the behavior itself and ask a deeper question:

“Does this horse feel capable of coping with what I am asking right now?”

Sometimes the answer lies in training.

Sometimes it lies in confidence-building.

Sometimes it lies in physical discomfort, stress, fatigue, or an unmet need.

Often, it is a combination of factors.

By viewing spookiness through the lens of coping capacity rather than simply obedience, we gain a broader understanding of why horses respond the way they do and how we can better support them.

After all, behavior is often information.

And sometimes what looks like a horse overreacting is actually a horse telling us that its ability to cope has been compromised.

https://koperequine.com/could-your-horse-have-sacroiliac-si-pain/

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09/18/2026

What is normal, anyway?

Every horse has some level of imbalances, just like every human does. Every horse has a unique history and experience, often a large chunk of which we know nothing about unless we’ve raised the animal. All of this means that the body is a map of experiences - each horse's history of training, riding, environment and different owners and barns and herds creates a particular experience that leaves it’s mark, good and bad.

So focusing a lot on what is “normal” gets tricky.

The definition of normal varies widely in the horse world - your normal might not be my normal. Comparisons can get murky to say the least. So, normal does not necessarily = good. In fact, it often strays pretty far from good.

Think of some of the widely accepted discipline-specific standards of normal: Soring in the Big Lick Tennessee Walkers; rollkur in dressage; starting race horses and reiners at 2. Just a few examples of “normal” that does not work well for the horses. But we’ve made them acceptable norms.

I worked with a new client recently who wanted to know if things were “normal”, how her horse measured up to the rest of the horses in my practice. We ended up laughing because I wouldn’t really give her a straight answer, no matter how hard she tried. We talked about good biomechanics, good movment, where her horse show signs of imbalances. Were these “normal”? In the case of her horse, there were some things that showed up and she had a vague idea from the previous owner about the cause of some of them - which is more information than some gain when we take on ownership. It’s not about getting caught up in comparison, in any case, it’s about gaining as much equilibrium of mind and body as is possible - for that particular horse, given her particular history and circumstances, her particular body and nervous system.

Normalizing things can creep up on us, it can be subtle. I’ve certainly been guilty of it with my horses - thinking something was normal until I realized that maybe it wasn’t, that maybe I needed to pay closer attention and do something about it. Usually because my horse got a little bit louder about it.

Let’s face it, it’s often easier to normalize behaviors - “oh, that’s just the way she is,” or “oh, he’s just being a jerk” or “yeah, she always does that when ###”. We let ourselves off the hook, knowingly or not. It’s a humbling, on-going life lesson to be willing to really listen to your horse and be accountable to him when he is trying to tell you someting is off. Sometimes is requires breaking from the cultural norms of your barn. Sometimes is requires a willingness to develop new norms as we learn more and outgrow outdated belief systems.

Can you be curious? Will you question things? Are able to tune into your intuition? Do you have the courage to be wrong? Seems to me that these things go a long way to figuring out what the best definition of normal is for you and your horse.

09/15/2026

The buying and selling and of souls

I recently read an ad for a horse that clearly prioritized welfare over speed of sale or money. The seller made it clear that the horse had some issues, which they had worked patiently to resolve, and that the right owner would be someone sensitive enough to deal with any recurrences.

Almost nothing makes me sadder in the horse world that the ads I see every day - clearly written to get rid of the horse asap - rather than to do right by the horse. The “need gone today” fire sale horses; the pasture pet rehoming of lame 20-something year olds; the no-fault of-their-own horses (that one always makes me shake my head); the too-many-in-the-barn horses.

These horses that are being emergency off-loaded because an owner died/must move/got sick/got bored/went broke often suffer the folly of our lack of planning - or our lack of a grasp of reality.

Am I advocating for fewer people owning horses? Yes I am.

Because at the end of the day, horses are best off if they can receive the proper care and support throughout their life, not just when they fit our agenda, our limited finances and/or our willingness to think ahead.

Owning a horse is a huge responsibility. There is no shame in sticking with lessons, or leasing, or simply realizing that it is just too much of a long term commitment. That you’re in over your head for whatever reason/s. Our heart’s desires come wtih big responsibilities when it comes to horses, and we tend to forget that sometimes.

If you disappeared tomorrow or lost your job or became laid up with a major injury, what would happen to your horse?

If you can’t - or won’t - answer those questions, your horse is in danger. It’s that simple.

08/30/2026

A lot to think about here and yes to all of it.

There's something so powerful about having a "hard conversation" with a horse. About bringing up something for them that challenges a belief they've held for their whole life, or something that scares them. Having a container in which hard conversations can happen freely, without the horse or human having to fear for their lives, is what sets this type of training apart from others.

Safety is not the same thing as avoiding discomfort, activation, or conflict forever. A relationship that can only function while everyone is calm is not actually prepared for real life, nor is it giving either party enough credit.

I do not believe in keeping horses under threshold always. I don't think this is beneficial for them, nor do I think it's responsible or sets them up for success. Because, as we all know, they are horses. They will spook at something, they will scare themselves when they believe a horse-eating troll is hiding behind that tree. And they will, undoubtedly, go over threshold.

And when they do, if you have not trained your own nervous system on how to handle yourself around a horse over threshold, you will also go over threshold.

And when you go over threshold, you will speak to your horse in a way that makes no sense to them. You will be in your sympathetic nervous system; you will be operating in fight or flight, and you will make big corrections and do big things with your body without control of your emotions.

And when you do this, your horse will have absolutely zero idea how to react. They might be terrified of you suddenly, because you got bigger than you've ever gotten with them and reacted from a place of fear or anger. They may resent you, because they assume that you are angry at them for something they did not believe they had control over. They may fight back, simply because they think you are attacking them.

There are countless combinations of what might occur, if suddenly on a Tuesday, you and your horse go over threshold together in a parking lot when neither of you have any practice in speaking to each other in a heightened state.

This is why it's crucial that we work with our horses in all kinds of situations, nervous system states, environments, etc. This is why it's imperative that, when they begin to go over threshold, we sit in that space with them and help them find their way through it, instead of immediately backing out and dropping them back down below threshold.

Your nervous system will not be able to learn how to stay regulated in the face of a panicking 1200-pound animal until you practice. And, as we all know, you have to put your own oxygen mask on before you help others. If you cannot regulate yourself, your horse will not be able to trust your guidance or your training, and you will both be stuck in a cycle of avoiding hard conversations and staying below threshold because it's too scary for both of you when s**t hits the fan.

So, how do you do it?

You create scenarios in which you know your horse will up-regulate, and you do so in a space where you can feel safe, supported, and held. I am not saying to terrorize your horse and send them into a full-fledged panic state. You need manageable activation. Choose a mid-level trigger. The horse still gets to communicate, and you still listen. The difference is that communication does not automatically mean you make the hard thing disappear. A set of eyes observing and helping to coach you through it is wildly helpful. You hold your ground, you set your boundaries, and you help teach your horse what it feels like when:

1. Your nervous system gets up-regulated, too.
2. Your intention changes from "please can you do this" to "I need this from you right now."
3. Your boundaries, voice, and body language gets louder, not from a place of anger/fear, but from a place of "What you are doing does not work for me, and I need you to hear me."

Spoiler alert: You will not be perfect at this when you first start. Take it from someone who has gone into full fight/flight mode in front of a horse and acted from a place of frustration, fear, etc. You will be triggered and likely will go over threshold yourself, which is why it's crucial to do this in a setting where you can bail yourself out if needed and tag in a friend while you breathe and re-regulate.

I remember as a child the feeling I would get in my body when my mom would use her "mom voice" and tell me to stop moving when we were out for a walk in the neighborhood. In that moment, I did not fear that my mother was going to kill me, but I sure as hell stopped in my tracks and looked at her for guidance because I knew something was not right.

THIS is what your horse can learn to do in moments of up-regulation, panic, fear, etc. They can learn that your intention getting bigger, your voice getting louder, and maybe even your physical cues getting stronger does not mean they need to fear for their lives, but instead means they need to stop and look at you for guidance.

They will never learn this if you don't practice it. They will never learn that you can indeed save them from themselves when they hit the panic button if you avoid the hard conversations. YOU will never learn that you can save them from themselves if you avoid it, either. They cannot learn how to communicate with you through activation if the two of you never practice communicating through activation.

The goal is not to teach the horse to tolerate being terrified. The goal is to teach both nervous systems that activation does not have to mean the loss of communication, relationship, or safety. Nor does it mean that there is something wrong or that they are being bad. It's simply a part of life.

Escalation is not the enemy. Being incapable of controlling your own emotions, regulating your own nervous system, and trusting yourself and your abilities is, though. And choosing to avoid the hard stuff and never teaching your horse how to handle a big change in intention, a louder aid or a reasonable demand is robbing you both of a relationship in which you can navigate the human world together.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk. 🫶🏻

08/08/2026

We live in a very success-driven culture. Striving, achieving, improving, it’s a constant quest and the horse world is no different.

But what if we defined success differently? What would it look like? Here’s the catch: you have to create the definition with zero reliance on external validation other than what your horse tells you.

How does that shift your vision of success?

Maybe, sometimes success with our horses is about the things that we choose not to do. The things that no one else sees.

✅You don’t drill, you find and reward the try and pause instead
✅You unlearn something that you thought was useful but no longer is (or realize never was)
✅You stop aiming for perfection
✅You let go of an old ambition that no longer fits your horse - or you
✅You take a breath and respond instead of immediately reacting
✅You decide not to ride because you know you're not really present
✅You ask why when there is resistance instead of pushing to get a result

Competition may be a nice showcase for all the hard work put in at home, but it is not the ultimate measure of who we are as horse people. That happens on a Tuesday at the barn in the back field when your horse quietly walks beside you. Or how your horse responds when you ask for something new or challenging - and how you respond when your horse struggles.

It’s a shift in perspective that can create the space to make better decisions. Sometimes it’s the things we don’t do as much as what we do that equal success.

Photo credit: Barbara Olsen

08/03/2026

I’m sharing this again because I’ve seen a bunch of posts lately (more than usual) about people passing or elderly or sick people who suddenly have to offload their horses. This never has to be the case if we plan ahead. Please, make sure that your horses have a soft landing if something happens to you. 

How many times have you seen horses listed for sale or adoption because their owner died, or became too ill to care for them? Often these are older animals that have been with their owner all or most of their lives.

Have you known someone who discovers that the horse they sold didn’t actually stay with the “forever home” they sold to, and now they have to deal with the heartbreak and worry of having no idea where their former horse is?

Have you ever cringed at a sales ad that says “need gone now/by xx date”?

Have you heard about people who pass away without providing for their horse and the nightmare of probate that can ensue that leaves the horse in limbo?

How about the rescues that hapoen daily from elderly owners that ceased to care for their horses for financial and/or physical issues?

Don’t throw the dice. Plan for the future.

Even if you are single, no children, of modest means, not yet in your golden years, make a will. Do it for your horse (and your other animals). Figure out the best solution/s, talk to the person/organization and make sure they are on board, and earmark the money to support on-going care to the extent that you possibly can. I know, it’s not a fun thing to think about - it took me a few years to get my act together and line things up, but I’ve slept better since I did.

If you sell your horse, do what you can to be able to provide a safety net. Include a buy back clause in the sales contract or a first right of refusal if the new owner decides to sell or if something happens or things don’t work out. Yes, people will be dishonest, yes you might not be able to afford two horses but don’t let that prevent you from trying to keep tabs and perhaps assist with rehoming if necessary.

Don’t wait until you are in desperate straights - horses cost a lot of money to maintain well, and our life circumstances change. Sometimes the change is sudden. But sometimes you know it’s coming. Let the horse go to the right home while you have the time to make a good decision. Help others do the same.

Respectfully ask to stay in touch with the buyer. If a buyer doesn’t seem up for it, it might be a red flag. Maybe just asking the question is worth gaging the response.

Train your horse to have good ground manners and to be easily handled to help ensure that they will find a good home - think of it as at least some insurance against a less-than-desirable path.

Finally, sometimes laying your elderly, chronically ill, or challenging horses to rest when you go is the best, kindest solution that avoids a potentially much rougher road.

Sometimes we don’t have much control, but it’s worth exercising the control we do have to ensure the best landing for our horses when they are no longer ours.

Don’t run on assumptions. Don’t stick your head in the sand. Don’t leave your horse hanging.

07/26/2026

These are interesting times we are living in. At the dawn of the new age of AI and social media dominance, virtually any request is delivered customized to help us feel happy, smart, attractive, successful, in control. We crave - in fact have become addicted to - a regular flow of feel good dopamine hits from our socials. Now that’s getting transferred into our expectations of daily life.

The horse world reflects this - the search for the easy fix, the fast start, the right look, the perfect horse, the flashy movement, the miracle aide or equipment. We seem to be a lot less willing to accept adversity as a natural part of life, including life with horses.

I worry about our growing aversion to disappointment in the age of on-demand happy horsemanship. Don’t like the answer you get? Move on to someone (or something) who will tell you what you want to hear. Not what you need to know. And they're out there, because professionals often feel the pressure to bend to unreasonable client demands in order to make a living. Perhaps more so now than ever.

Is life meant to be served up on a platter? Why does resilience matter? And what happens when our ability to accept and cope with difficulty is eroded?

Brain science tells us that it’s in the in-between place of struggling with questions that we (both horse and human) learn best. Ask yourself: did you learn more when everything went exactly to plan or when it didn’t and you had to figure it out? Mistakes and the learning that can come from them stick with us far more than the easy experiences.

Our quest for the quick-and-easy button means we are skipping foundational skills that do not set us up for success with horses. And that lack of skill will snowball over time, creating more anxiety and fear. Any horse feels this instantly and can not, should not, be expected to make up for it.

To get out of that cycle, we have to be willing to ride the struggle bus for a bit.

Being with horses, learning from them, caring for them, cultivating a connection where we provide calm leadership is gained through our willingness to learn and grow and change. It is, I hate to break it to you, a life long journey. Finding the education that supports this and helps us deal with the harder questions is what builds confidence and creativity and lessens fear and uncertainty. The result: greater ease, more joy for both horse and human.

But we have to actually work at it, for it.

I don’t know where all this leads. I do know that horses are the ultimate reality check. They will tell us if we are doing it right, or not. They will tell us if we’re present, or not. Can we slow down and adjust our increasingly over-the-top expectations enough to actually listen?

Photo credit: Gulsum Coban

07/24/2026

How often do we allow ourselves to experiment? So much about how we think about horses is heirarchical, whether we realize it or not. One must do this before you can attempt that. Follow to plan. Stick to the rules. Keep doing step 3 until you get it right before you move on to step 4.

It’s comforting to have guidelines. And jumping too far ahead when you or your horse isn’t ready isn’t a great idea. But I think we’re missing out by not allowing ourselves to play a bit more, to be creative, to try different, sometimes seemingly wacky things - especially if we are getting the sense that our horse is bored, not learning, feeling like they have retreated, or blowing through things.

Or maybe you’re the one who is (also) bored, not learning, shutting down, blowing through.

I don’t think we give ourselves enough credit, enough freedom to trust ourselves and our horses to try different things, to color outside the lines, to mix it up in order to get to that place of greater ease, athleticisim, degree of difficulty.

Brain science and just plain experience tell us that it’s in that liminal, inbetween space that mixes play, experimentation and struggle that breakthroughs and learning happen best - not through drilling. We have to be willing to wander in the wilderness a bit in order to come out the other side where the cool things start to happen, to click, often in a way that we just couldn't anticipate.

I am always experimenting to a degree in bodywork sessions, asking questions with my hands. I see and I assess and I feel, but how each horse needs me to go about helping them is going to vary a bit, or a lot. So, I try different things. I might struggle a bit in the place of unknowing until I try something else and the horse responds in a way that I know I’ve hit on something good. Yes there are processes, but nothing is rote.

Think of it this way: there are no mistakes in creativity.

More often than not it’s in the in-between, where the struggle lives, that the answers lie. And in that dopamine-powered, ah-ha moment is often where the joy and the fun hang out.

07/23/2026

One of the most unproductive things we do as horse people is compare. We judge our own progress, level of skill using the measuring stick of others and their horses. This is a natural output of a horse culture that often sees competition and moving up the (riding) levels as the ultimate measure of success.

Horses need to be doing X by the age of X. Riders need to progress at the rate of X in order to feel like they are keeping up with everyone else.

But here’s the thing: true progress, progress that sticks, that is based on trust and the well-being of horse and rider is not a comparative game. It is different for each person, for each horse, to some small or large degree.

Progress moves at the speed of relationship.

How long does it take to develop a relationship based on trust, safety and calm? Only you and your horse can answer that, based on 100 different factors unique to both of you.

In general, the horse world needs to slow down. Horses are started too young in virtually every discipline. Riders are pushed too fast to do things in order to be deemed successful or to compete or to just be part of a training program. Comparative timelines get us into trouble, make us feel bad, make us see our horses as less-than.

I have certainly learned this in bodywork - that no two horses respond the exact same way, heal on the same timeline, even when dealing with very similar issues. There are just too many factors unique to each horse.

It takes bravery in today’s horse world to move at the pace that is right for you and your horse. To stand up for the space and time needed for that to happen, despite what your trainer, your barn mates, your own need for keeping up tells you.

The rush to accomplish can leave trust behind - and that can get you into trouble. Throw the comparative expectations out and take the time and the path you and your horse need to build a solid foundation together. Because slow is always the fastest way with horses.

Visual from a deck developed by Katherine Lowry EQUILibrium Equine Services.