We Will Be Ok

Contributing Author Susan Brown

At Courageous Connections, all the people and horses have a history – not always a happy one. But at this farm, healing is possible because understanding and acceptance grow and thrive, twining through each vastly different being.

“So, Ari, do you have time for a cup of coffee? No coffee? Just oats? But you’ll give me your time anyway? You’ll come in from the pasture? For me, you’ll leave behind the greening grass, the buzz of half-awake bees, the chittering of mating birds? You’ll meet me in the arena?

“I’ll be there, Ari. When you blink those long-lashed eyes at me and flick your elegant ears, you won’t have to ask me twice. I will come slowly, only a little afraid of a magnificent horse, one as big and strong as you are. I’ll hold my closed hand up for a friendly sniff before I run my palms along your beautiful arched neck. My fingers will touch your warmth, feel the velvet of your winter coat. I will smell your horsey aroma, that mix of fresh hay, greening grass, and breezes sated by a landscape alive with small creatures.

“And then, because you are the most patient of beings, I will lean my forehead against your warm side and breathe. I will breathe with you, Ari. I will inhale your aroma of nature and patience, and then I will blow away my stale odor of anxiety and uncertainty.”

We’ll breathe. Just breathe.

“Ari, did I tell you I stayed awake last night doom scrolling? I saw terrible things out there in the world. What if terrible things break into my life? How will I keep living?”

Breathe out. Breathe them out.

“Ari, there are big, terrifying things in the world. Somehow, I gulped them in. I didn’t mean to. What if...?“

Ari shifts a hoof and drops her head. My hands slowly make circle strokes on her side. She knows to her core what it means to be afraid and helpless, to be prey, because she is a horse and horses are prey animals. But here, at the farm, she is loved and cared for.

Safe in the warmth of compassion and love.

Breathe in. Breathe the smell of a natural world.

Not an easy world. Breathe in the patience and compassion of this horse who completely understands.

Breathe out. Exhale the miasma of the hard things that have nearly broken me.

Like me, Ari was not always cared for. But now she is here at the farm, loved, sharing her serenity and strength. With me.

“Ari, did I tell you I had been sick. Very sick. I’m getting better now. But I wasn’t doing so well.”

Ari snuffles and her warm breath fills my nostrils.

“I’m better. I am getting better and stronger. I’m going to be okay, Ari.” 

At the farm where love and understanding holds each of us upright. Where a person and a horse can breathe and become strong again. Ari helps build courage; everyone at the farm builds connections. Our shared history is built with calm acceptance.

We’re going to be okay.