Pas de Cheval Curriculum, Module 2, Part II

Continued from Part I

Liberty Longeing — Learning the Grammar of the Body

Now the energetic synchronization we first experienced beside the horse begins expanding across distance.

This is our introduction to liberty longeing and, eventually, Liberty Dance.

At first, this may not feel effortless.

It may feel awkward.

That is perfectly all right.

We have been speaking about Wu Wei and effortless action, but effortless action does not mean that we never have to learn.

A ballet dancer begins with mechanics.

The dancer learns the plié, tendu, dégagé, jeté, rond de jambe, frappé, grand battement, port de bras, and countless combinations. The dancer learns en face, croisé, effacé, devant, derrière, and the precise orientation of the body in space.

At first, none of this necessarily feels natural.

The dancer thinks:

Where is my head? Where is my arm? Where is my weight? What is my turnout doing? Am I holding my breath?

The mechanics initially occupy enormous attention.

But we are not learning mechanics so that we can remain mechanical.

We learn the language of the body so thoroughly that eventually we no longer have to think about speaking it.

That is what we begin here.

And there is an important distinction.

We are not primarily learning the mechanics of a tool that we will impose upon the horse.

We are learning the mechanics of ourselves.

Where is my body? Where is my center? Where are my shoulders? Where am I in relation to the horse? Where am I looking? What is my breath doing? Am I soft? Am I braced? Am I holding my breath? Has my breathing become shallow? Have I moved too far forward? Am I too far behind? Am I radiating forward movement while physically blocking it?

This is Position of the Body becoming language.

Your Position Changes the Conversation

Stand toward the center of the arena with enough distance that the horse does not feel crowded.

To invite forward movement, position yourself approximately perpendicular to the horse, oriented toward the horse’s shoulder and body rather than stepping directly into the path ahead.

Your shoulders and torso help create the direction.

Where you stand relative to the horse matters enormously.

Move too far toward the horse’s head and you may close the very path you intended to open.

The horse may slow, stop, turn, or face you.

The horse is not necessarily refusing.

The horse may be answering exactly what your body asked.

That distinction is essential.

Before increasing energy, ask:

Where am I standing? What did my body actually say?

This is why Position of the Body is one of the Three Positions.

A few inches can change a conversation.

The Wand Is an Extension, Not a Requirement

For many horses, we begin with a long wand.

It is not a whip. It is not punishment. It is never used to strike the horse.

The wand extends the arm, hand, intention, and energetic communication across distance.

Remember the energetic relationship experienced through the palms.

The wand simply allows that language to extend farther.

But even here, there is no formula.

Some horses are perfectly comfortable with the wand and understand its extension easily.

Another horse may be so energetically sensitive and acutely aware that the wand is unnecessary.

For that horse, raising the hand may be enough. Perhaps only the arm. Eventually, perhaps a shift of the shoulder, a change in breath, a change in intention, or the smallest movement of the body is sufficient.

Use only as much language as the horse needs to hear you.

If the horse has already heard the whisper, there is no reason to shout.

The Rainbow Is Language, Not Formula

When using the wand, orient it toward the hindquarters and allow it to travel through a soft rainbow.

A low rainbow may invite walk. A higher rainbow may invite trot. A greater elevation, perhaps above the level of the haunches, can invite canter.

You may click. You may use your voice.

Encourage. Admire. Play.

But understand:

The rainbow is language, not a button.

Low does not mechanically equal walk. Medium does not mechanically equal trot. High does not mechanically equal canter.

The horse matters. Distance matters. Body position matters. Breath matters. Intention matters. Energy matters. The Field matters. The moment matters.

If you invite trot and receive walk, receive the walk.

Thank the horse.

Listen.

A smaller response is not automatically refusal.

And do not become so preoccupied with the mechanics that you leave the Field.

This can happen easily at first.

We begin thinking, Is my wand high enough? Am I standing correctly? Why isn’t the horse trotting?

Suddenly the breath becomes shallow. The shoulders rise. The mind narrows.

We are no longer listening.

Stop.

Breathe.

Return.

Open Sky. Pillar of Light. Ocean Wave.

Then begin again.

Distance Is Part of the Language

Every horse has a different energetic sensitivity.

There is no universal distance at which the human must stand.

One horse may need us farther away in order to feel sufficiently free to move forward. Another may need us to move closer before the energetic invitation becomes clear.

If the horse continually stops and turns toward us, perhaps we have moved too far toward the head.

If the horse becomes tense or hurried, perhaps our energy or proximity is too great.

If the horse seems not to perceive the invitation, perhaps we need to move closer.

Feel what changes as distance changes.

This is not:

I waved the wand, therefore you should trot.

It is:

Where am I? Where are you? What is the distance between us? What is my body communicating? What is my breath doing? What am I radiating? What did you receive? What did you answer?

This is why liberty work cannot be reduced to a diagram.

A diagram can teach vocabulary.

The horse teaches us the conversation.

We adjust. The horse answers. We adjust again.

Eventually we begin to feel where the relationship wants us to be.

Why Outside Eyes Can Help

In the beginning, it can be difficult to feel all of this while simultaneously observing the horse.

We may believe we are perpendicular when we have drifted toward the head. We may not realize we have stopped breathing. Our hand may have crept upward. Our shoulders may be tense. We may be stepping toward the horse while wondering why the horse keeps moving away. Or we may be so far back that the horse cannot understand the invitation we believe we are giving.

This is where working with a Pas de Cheval practitioner can be invaluable.

An experienced observer can see the conversation from outside.

Soften your shoulder.

Breathe.

You’re a little too far forward.

Give her more space.

Come slightly closer.

She already answered you.

Don’t ask again.

These may seem like tiny corrections.

They are.

And that is precisely why they matter.

Eventually the student begins to feel them without being told.

The mechanics become embodied.

The Expanding Field

As our awareness develops, our perception of energetic relationship expands beyond the immediate physical space surrounding the body.

We begin by becoming aware of the energetic field close to us.

Then we become increasingly aware of the horse’s field.

A horse’s energetic resonance is often described as extending approximately twenty-five feet, while the human field is often experienced closer to the physical body. But the horse can modulate and expand this energetic presence, and through relationship we learn to expand our own awareness and energetic resonance as well.

The numbers are not the relationship.

They are not boundaries.

The Unified Field is not contained within a twenty-five-foot circle.

As awareness expands, the apparent separation between fields becomes less rigid.

Communication can occur across greater physical distance.

And as the energetic relationship deepens, it can extend beyond time, space, and dimension.

Physical distance does not define the limits of relationship.

The Divine Field is not confined by the dimensions through which the physical body ordinarily perceives the world.

This is why the energetic relationship with a horse is ultimately far greater than what happens inside an arena.

A deeply developed connection is not limited by geography. Horse and human can remain connected across extraordinary physical distance, beyond ordinary boundaries of time and space, and beyond physical presence itself.

We do not force this.

We do not attempt to make our field larger as though it were another accomplishment.

We expand our awareness.

We surrender.

We become receptive.

And we discover that boundaries we once assumed were absolute are not the boundaries of the Unified Field.

For the student beginning liberty work, however, there is a beautifully simple expression of this:

Find where this horse can hear you.

Not where a diagram says you should stand. Not where you stood with another horse. Not where you think you are supposed to be.

Where this horse, in this moment, can meet you.

Let the Horse Move

Some horses need encouragement to move.

Others suddenly seem to say:

I need to run.

Let the horse express what the body needs.

Observe the canter, the trot, the blowing out, the lowered neck, the stretch, the gathering, the play, the release.

This is another opportunity to assess well-being.

Watch the gait. Watch the body. Watch the mind. Watch the emotional state.

Listen to the whole horse.

Do not organize every stride.

Do not circle the horse endlessly.

Do not exhaust the horse in the name of training.

Do not take spontaneous beauty and exploit it through repetition.

If the horse needs to move, allow movement.

If the horse needs to soften, allow softening.

If something appears physically, mentally, emotionally, or spiritually wrong, stop and listen.

Sometimes the most appropriate thing we can do is not interfere.

Wu Wei.

Crescendo and Diminuendo

Liberty movement within Pas de Cheval is more like creating a beautiful symphony than performing an exercise.

A violin can whisper. It can sing. It can swell. It can become fervent. Then it can soften until its sound almost disappears.

So can the dialogue between horse and human.

There is crescendo—the gathering and intensification of energy.

There is diminuendo—the gradual softening and receding of energy.

Sometimes moving closer creates the crescendo. Sometimes the wand rises. Sometimes breath, body, prāṇa, and intention gather together.

And sometimes the horse creates the crescendo.

The horse suddenly takes off into a joyous canter.

There is nothing for us to add.

Watch. Admire. Be with it.

The horse has already spoken.

Then perhaps the horse lowers the neck, blows, stretches into a swinging trot, and softens.

Meet the diminuendo.

Do not continue driving simply because you planned another lap.

Listen.

The dialogue moves like the ocean wave.

The wave gathers. It rises. It crests. It breaks. It flows back. Another wave comes.

We are not imposing music upon the horse.

We are learning to hear the music that is arising between us.

Changing Direction

When the energy begins to settle, change the conversation.

Move toward the front of the horse’s path.

Place the wand in the opposite hand if you are using one.

Turn your shoulders toward the horse at the point of the head.

Until now, your body opened a door in the direction of travel.

Now your shoulders close that energetic door.

The horse may turn toward you before moving in the new direction.

The horse may turn away.

Observe.

Do not create a battle over how the horse must turn.

Open the new path.

Invite.

Listen.

Again, notice your position.

If the horse does something different from what you expected, do not immediately increase the aid.

First ask:

What did my body actually communicate?

The Breath Begins to Move the Horse

Remain in the Field.

Exhale.

Ahhh.

Allow the energy genuinely to descend with the breath.

If the horse is cantering, observe whether canter becomes trot.

Exhale again.

Observe whether trot becomes walk.

The wand may become follow-through, but increasingly the horse may respond to something underneath the visible gesture:

Breath. Prāṇa. Body alignment. Intention. Energetic state.

Do not theatrically exhale while remaining internally tense.

Actually soften.

Actually release.

The horse feels the difference.

The same energetic synchronization we first discovered while walking side by side now exists at a more expanded level, across the arena.

Open Sky, Pillar of Light, Ocean Wave — In Motion

The Three Anchors now move with us.

Mind — Open Sky. Clear and receptive.

Body — Pillar of Light. Relaxed, tall, aligned, balanced, strong, flexible, precisely positioned, and alive.

Breath — Ocean Wave. Rhythmic and free, prāṇa moving through the rising and falling energy of the dance.

And so the Three Positions move with us as well.

Mutual sovereignty and respect determine how we relate.

The Field of Presence determines the state from which we relate.

The Position of the Body gives the relationship physical language.

None replaces the others.

They become one conversation.

From Mechanics to Effortless Action

This is exactly what happens in ballet.

At first, the dancer has to think about everything: the plié, the tendu, the port de bras, the placement of the head, the position of the shoulders, the direction of the body, the weight, the balance, the breath.

Eventually these things become embodied.

The dancer who once had to consciously remember every position begins moving without mentally naming any of them.

The plié disappears into the jump.

The port de bras disappears into the phrase.

The technique has not vanished.

It has become integrated.

And when technique is sufficiently integrated, it stops obstructing expression.

This is where liberty longeing begins becoming Liberty Dance.

We no longer think:

Now I move here. Now I raise the wand. Now I ask for trot.

Instead, we feel the horse.

The horse feels us.

We move. The horse moves. The horse changes. We change.

Energy rises.

Crescendo.

Energy softens.

Diminuendo.

The horse may offer more than we asked.

We receive it.

The horse may offer less.

We listen.

Sometimes the horse creates the movement entirely.

And sometimes we reach a point at which it becomes difficult to say who initiated what.

Who created the crescendo?

Who began the transition?

Who invited whom?

Eventually, perhaps that is no longer the important question.

The relationship created it.

This is Wu Wei within Liberty Dance.

Preparation without grasping. Mastery without domination. Action without forcing.

The technique has not disappeared.

It has become so integrated that it no longer obstructs the dance.

From Cue and Response to Pas de Deux

We are leaving behind the idea that communication with the horse must always be understood as a sequence of cues and obedient responses.

The horse reads us.

We read the horse.

The horse communicates.

We receive.

We communicate.

The horse receives.

Both adjust.

There is rhythm, timing, strength, core strength, flexibility, balance, coordination, regularity, symmetry, harmony, crescendo, diminuendo, stillness, movement, space, breath, refinement, elegance, virtuosity, and beauty.

And something else that cannot be written into a formula.

The moment we reduce the dance to Do this and the horse will do that, we risk returning to manufacture.

Pas de Cheval is not a formula for producing movement.

It is the cultivation of relationship from which movement can blossom.

A pas de deux cannot exist if one dancer is forcing the other through the choreography.

Both dancers have to be present.

Wu Wei and the Dance Beyond Technique

There is tremendous discipline behind what eventually appears effortless.

A ballet dancer rehearses. We condition the body. We develop strength, flexibility, core strength, balance, alignment, coordination, refinement, and technique.

With horses, we practice. We develop awareness. We learn the language of our body. We learn timing. We learn position. We establish boundaries. We cultivate trust. We return again and again to the Field.

But there are moments when all that preparation becomes so integrated that technique becomes transparent.

Horse, human, breath, movement, awareness, nature, and Field enter shared resonance.

The Divine Intelligence within the Unified Field becomes the grand conductor.

Neither horse nor human disappears.

Both remain sovereign.

Yet neither dominates the moment.

There is nothing to manufacture. Nothing to prove. Nothing to perform.

Something simply arises.

Wu Wei.

Sometimes, in that surrender, the dancer seems to be danced.

This is what I knew naturally at twelve before I had words for it.

It is what Stary helped me uncover again after the human world had taught me to cover it.

It is what another black stallion revealed again years later.

It is what horse after horse continued to reveal whenever I surrendered what I thought I was supposed to do and returned to the Field.

Through recurrence, what once seemed extraordinary became recognizable.

What was recognizable became dependable—not as an outcome I could demand, but as a Field I could trust.

I learned that I did not have to manufacture the relationship.

I had to stop obscuring it.

I had to unlearn.

Surrender.

Listen.

Become available.

Eventually, the Field became less something I consciously entered and more the place from which I lived.

This is the journey from the twelve-year-old girl and the black stallion, through Stary, through another black stallion, and through every horse who continued the teaching.

It is the journey into Chevalia.

Do Not Capture What Is Sacred

As this relationship develops, the horse may begin offering more.

Do not allow that generosity to become something we consume.

A horse may anticipate us. A horse may begin moving before the visible invitation. A horse may create the crescendo. A horse may leave food to greet us. A horse may place the nose into the halter. A horse may offer a movement of astonishing beauty. A horse may bring us into a moment of spiritual communion so profound that there are no adequate words for it.

None of this becomes ours to demand tomorrow.

The horse’s willingness is never permission to exploit the offering.

The sacred cannot be converted into a training result without changing its nature.

Receive it.

Protect it.

Honor it.

Let it remain alive.

The Divine Intelligence knows us.

There is awareness of us within the Field.

What needs to be revealed is revealed when we are ready to receive it.

We do not chase revelation.

We become receptive.

We become present.

We become available.

And when the extraordinary comes, we bow inwardly before it.

Then the next day, perhaps the sacred moment is simply a horse leaving a mouthful of hay to walk toward us.

Recognize that too.

Nothing offered freely within relationship is small.

The Measure of the Dance

When we wonder whether we have stepped outside of Pas de Cheval, return to the essential questions:

Am I still in relationship?

Am I still in the Field?

Am I listening?

Am I present?

Am I respecting the horse’s sovereignty while remaining the horse’s guardian?

Am I guiding, or manipulating?

Am I allowing, or manufacturing?

Am I participating in what is arising, or imposing what I decided must arise?

Where am I forcing what could be allowed to unfold?

Did this movement blossom from our relationship?

Is curiosity alive?

Is willingness alive?

Is beauty alive?

Is the horse’s spirit present?

Is the horse well in mind, body, and spirit?

And am I present?

If we discover that we have stepped outside of the Field, there is no need for self-condemnation.

Return.

Release the clock. Release the outcome. Release expectation. Release ego. Release identity. Release the need to prove.

Surrender.

Open Sky. Pillar of Light. Ocean Wave.

Sometimes the horse approaches an open palm.

Sometimes the horse leaves food to greet us.

Sometimes the horse lowers the head and voluntarily places the nose into a halter.

Sometimes horse and human walk together and stop upon a breath.

Sometimes they take several quiet steps backward together without a pull on the rope.

Sometimes the horse walks into the trailer.

Sometimes the horse explodes into a joyous canter at liberty.

Sometimes the horse gathers naturally into a movement of extraordinary beauty.

Sometimes an exquisite movement arises beneath the saddle.

Sometimes the horse tells us that something is wrong, and the dance that day is simply our willingness to stop and listen.

Sometimes horse and human simply stand together.

And sometimes, unexpectedly, horse, human, breath, movement, nature, and the Unified Field seem to dissolve into something greater.

We cannot command that moment.

We cannot manufacture it.

We cannot capture it.

We can become available to it.

We practice. We develop. We listen. We protect. We nurture. We honor sovereignty.

We surrender.

And we remember:

Ballet is sacred.

Life is sacred.

The dance is sacred.

The horse is sacred.

The human is sacred.

Nature is sacred.

The purpose of Pas de Cheval is not to produce a more beautiful form of compliance.

It is relationship.

From relationship, beauty can arise without being captured. Movement can arise without being manufactured. Guidance can exist without domination. Strength can exist without rigidity. Virtuosity can exist without exploitation. Technique can exist without becoming the master.

Two sovereign beings can remain fully themselves while participating within something greater than either one alone.

Movement blossoms from relationship.

Energetic synchronization becomes physical expression.

Liberty longeing expands that energetic relationship across space.

Wu Wei becomes effortless action.

Divine Intelligence becomes the grand conductor.

The Field of Presence becomes a way of being.

What I knew before I had words, the horses taught me to remember.

What I later covered with identity, they helped me uncover.

What I tried to learn through human constructs, they taught me to unlearn.

Again and again, they returned me to the same place: the Field that had never disappeared, the Divine Intelligence that had always been there, and the relationship that became possible when I stopped trying to manufacture it.

The horse had not forgotten.

I was learning to remember.

And perhaps this is the deepest meaning of Chevalia:

We are learning to remember.

Module Two Principle

Movement must blossom from relationship.

Pas de Cheval does not ask us to produce a particular response from the horse. It asks us to enter relationship deeply enough that communication, movement, and eventually the dance can arise between two sovereign beings.

The Field of Presence remains our compass.

When we are uncertain, we return to the Field. We listen before we act. We allow the horse’s response to inform what happens next. We remain responsible for our own mind, body, breath, position, energy, and intention while remaining attentive to the horse’s physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual well-being.

We remember that willingness is never something to take for granted. The smallest offering—a horse approaching us, leaving food to greet us, lowering the head into a halter, stopping with our breath, choosing to remain near us, or offering movement freely—is an expression of relationship.

Receive it with gratitude.

Do not capture it.

Do not exploit it.

The horse’s willingness is a gift within relationship, not permission to demand more.

As the dialogue develops, technique becomes the servant of relationship rather than its master. We learn our body so that our body can communicate clearly. We refine our position so that we interfere less. We expand our awareness so that we can perceive more. We practice until what initially feels mechanical becomes embodied.

Preparation without grasping. Mastery without domination. Action without forcing.

Eventually, within surrender, Wu Wei becomes possible: effortless action arising within the Divine Intelligence of the Unified Field.

Before Your Next Lesson

Continue practicing the Field of Presence from Module One, but now begin carrying the Field into relationship and movement.

Do not treat entering the Field as something you complete before approaching your horse. Practice remaining within it as you greet your horse, offer the halter, walk together, stop, change direction, enter the arena, and begin exploring movement at liberty.

Begin simply.

Allow your horse to see you approaching without immediately asking for anything. Notice whether the horse acknowledges you, approaches you, remains where they are, leaves food or the herd to greet you, or chooses not to come.

Whatever happens, observe before interpreting.

When appropriate and safe, offer the halter rather than automatically putting it on. Notice what happens when you allow the horse an opportunity to participate.

As you walk together, practice walking as though there were no lead rope. Allow the rope to remain a safeguard rather than the primary means of communication.

Experiment gently with the walk, the stop, and one or two steps backward. Use your breath, body, intention, and energetic state before relying upon the physical aid.

If you are beginning liberty longeing, first assess the whole horse.

Is your horse well in mind, body, and spirit?

Watch the movement before asking for more movement. If something appears physically off, emotionally distressed, mentally overwhelmed, or otherwise unlike your horse’s normal baseline, stop and listen.

The horse’s well-being always comes before the lesson.

If the horse is comfortable and willing, begin exploring energetic communication at a more expanded level. Notice how your position, distance, shoulders, breath, hands, arms, wand when appropriate, and energetic state affect the conversation.

Do not be concerned if this initially feels awkward.

You are learning the mechanics of your own body, not learning how to mechanically operate the horse.

Return continually to:

Open Sky.

Pillar of Light.

Ocean Wave.

And whenever you become confused:

Return to the Field.

During Your Observation

Pay attention to the smallest responses.

Notice what happens before the obvious movement.

Does your horse look toward you before approaching? Does the body soften? Does the breathing change? Does the head lower? Does the horse move toward your open hand? Does the horse voluntarily place the nose toward or into the halter?

Does the horse begin walking with you before tension enters the rope?

Can the horse feel your exhale before the physical aid?

What happens when you stop?

What happens when you change your body position?

What happens when you move closer?

What happens when you create more distance?

What happens when your breathing becomes shallow or you inadvertently hold your breath?

What happens when you become focused upon achieving an outcome?

And what happens when you surrender it?

At liberty, observe whether your horse needs greater space or greater energetic connection. Notice whether moving closer creates forward energy or too much pressure. Notice whether moving farther away creates freedom or causes the communication to become unclear.

If you use the wand, remember that it is an extension of your arm and energetic communication—not something used to drive the horse.

Some horses may need the wand. Some may need only your arm or hand. Some may respond eventually to little more than breath, position, intention, and energetic change.

Let the individual horse teach you how quietly you can speak and still be heard.

Above all, notice when movement begins to feel less like something you are producing and more like something arising between you.

Do not chase that feeling.

Simply recognize it.

Carry These Questions With You

Am I still in the Field?

Am I still in relationship?

Am I listening?

What is my mind doing?

What is my body communicating?

What is my breath communicating?

What is the horse communicating?

Is my horse well in mind, body, and spirit?

Am I observing before interpreting?

Am I guiding, or am I manipulating?

Am I inviting, or am I demanding?

Am I allowing, or am I manufacturing?

Am I using my body clearly, or am I asking the horse to compensate for my lack of clarity?

Am I speaking more loudly than necessary?

Did the horse already answer me?

Can I become quieter now?

Am I respecting the horse’s sovereignty while remaining a responsible guardian?

Did this movement blossom from our relationship?

Am I taking the horse’s willingness for granted?

Where am I forcing what could be allowed to unfold?

And perhaps most importantly:

What is the horse teaching me to remember?

Keep a Journal of Remembrance

As you move through Pas de Cheval, I encourage you to keep a journal.

This journal does not need to be shared with anyone. It belongs to you. If you feel compelled to share something from it with your Pas de Cheval practitioner, you may, but that is not its primary purpose.

Its purpose is to remember.

Write down what happened with your horse, but do not limit yourself to accomplishments or obvious events. Record the things that might seem insignificant to someone else.

Perhaps your horse looked up when you entered the field.

Perhaps they left the herd to stand beside you.

Perhaps they walked away from food to greet you.

Perhaps you felt the exact moment when your breathing changed and your horse softened.

Perhaps you recognized that you had left the Field—and then felt what happened between you when you returned.

Perhaps for a few seconds the movement between you became effortless.

Perhaps you experienced something for which you have no adequate explanation at all.

Write it down.

These moments are easily lost within the movement of ordinary life because we do not always navigate our lives with the same acute awareness we experience within the Unified Field. We return to our responsibilities, our schedules, our thoughts, and the demands of the human world. Something that felt unmistakable in the moment may gradually become a memory of a memory.

A journal allows us to preserve it.

And something remarkable can happen when we return to those words a week later, two weeks later, six months later, or many years later.

We remember not only what happened, but who we were becoming.

We begin seeing the progression of the relationship.

We see moments we did not fully understand when they occurred.

We recognize patterns.

We recognize changes in ourselves.

We discover that something we once considered small was actually the beginning of an entirely different way of relating to our horse, ourselves, nature, or life.

And sometimes we return to an entry years later and are brought directly back into the sacredness of a moment we might otherwise have forgotten.

This is why your journal does not need to contain extraordinary experiences.

Record what is sacred to you.

The world does not have to consider a moment important for it to be profound in your life.

A horse taking one step toward you may mean nothing to someone watching from outside the relationship.

You know what preceded that step.

You know what it required.

You know what passed between you.

Write it down.

In this way, the journal becomes more than a record of your progress.

It becomes a record of remembrance.

Working With a Pas de Cheval Practitioner

Some of what we are beginning to explore in this module can be extraordinarily difficult to perceive while we are learning it.

At first, you may be concentrating on many things at once. Where is my body? Where are my shoulders? Am I standing too far forward or too far behind? Am I too close to the horse or too far away? What is my breath doing? What is my intention? What is the horse communicating? Am I still in the Field?

At the same time, you are consciously returning to the Three Anchors:

Open Sky. Pillar of Light. Ocean Wave.

This can initially feel awkward.

That is natural.

Just as the ballet dancer initially has to think consciously about placement, alignment, breath, balance, and movement before those things become embodied, the student of Pas de Cheval is learning to hold several levels of awareness simultaneously.

This is why, particularly if entering the Field of Presence and communicating through energetic resonance are new to you, working with a Pas de Cheval practitioner can be especially valuable.

A practitioner is not simply watching whether your horse performs the movement you intended.

We are observing the totality of the relationship as it unfolds.

We are watching you.

We are watching the horse.

And we are watching what is happening between you.

We can often see when you have lost Open Sky because your attention has narrowed and your mind has begun trying to solve, anticipate, or control the moment.

We can see when you have lost Pillar of Light because your body has become braced, collapsed, unbalanced, or incorrectly positioned.

We can see when you have lost Ocean Wave because your breathing has become shallow, held, hurried, or disconnected from the movement.

And simultaneously, we are observing the horse.

Did the horse soften when you softened?

Did the horse become confused when your body position changed?

Did your proximity strengthen the energetic resonance between you, or did the horse need more space?

Did the horse respond before you recognized the response?

Did the horse become tense when your mind narrowed around an outcome?

What happened to the relationship when you surrendered and returned to the Field?

These are extraordinarily subtle nuances, and when we are first learning, it can be difficult to observe them while simultaneously experiencing them.

A practitioner may simply say:

There. Did you feel that?

You just left the Field.

Breathe.

Soften.

Return to Open Sky.

Find your Pillar of Light.

Let the breath become the Ocean Wave again.

Give your horse a little more space.

Come slightly closer.

Look at what changed.

Your horse already answered you.

These small refinements help us begin recognizing something that eventually becomes our own awareness.

The purpose of the practitioner is not to make you dependent upon another person to communicate with your horse.

Quite the opposite.

The practitioner helps refine your awareness until you can perceive the conversation yourself.

If you already have a deeply established relationship with your horse within the Field of Presence and are accustomed to recognizing energetic communication and reciprocity between you, these practices may unfold quite naturally.

But if entering the Field is still new, if energetic resonance is unfamiliar, or if you have not yet experienced this depth of reciprocity with your horse, I strongly encourage you to work with a Pas de Cheval practitioner as you begin this part of the practice.

A practitioner can help you recognize the difference between thinking you are in the Field and actually being there, between what you intend to communicate and what your body and energy are actually communicating, and between what you believe you asked and what the horse actually received.

Over time, these distinctions become clearer.

The mechanics become embodied.

Awareness expands.

Listening becomes more precise.

And what initially required conscious thought begins to become effortless.

The practitioner does not create the relationship between you and your horse.

The practitioner helps you become clear, present, and aware enough to recognize, protect, and deepen the relationship that is unfolding between you.

Come to Your Next Lesson Prepared to Share

You do not need to arrive at your next lesson with a list of accomplishments.

You do not need to say:

My horse came every time.

My horse stopped perfectly.

My horse cantered at liberty.

Those are outcomes.

Instead, come prepared to talk about what you noticed.

Perhaps you noticed that your horse approaches differently when you release expectation.

Perhaps you realized that you hold your breath when you concentrate.

Perhaps you discovered that your position was inadvertently blocking the very movement you were requesting.

Perhaps your horse needed more distance.

Perhaps your horse needed you closer.

Perhaps your horse responded to your hand and did not need the wand.

Perhaps your horse stopped when you exhaled.

Perhaps you left the Field and, for the first time, recognized exactly when it happened.

Perhaps your horse did not want to move one day, and because you listened rather than insisting, you discovered something important about their well-being.

Perhaps nothing dramatic happened at all, but your horse left their food and walked across the field to greet you—and you understood the significance of that choice.

Perhaps there was a moment of such profound connection that you cannot adequately explain it.

Bring that too.

You may share something from your journal with your practitioner if you wish. Or you may keep those words entirely for yourself.

Some experiences do not need to be explained to anyone else in order to matter.

We are not keeping score.

We are learning to recognize relationship.

Come prepared to explore:

What did you notice?

What changed in you?

What did your horse show you?

Where did communication become clearer?

Where did you become confused?

When did you feel yourself leave the Field?

What helped you return?

What surprised you?

What did your horse offer freely?

What did you record because you did not want to forget it?

And what did you learn when you stopped trying to make something happen?

There is no requirement to arrive at the next lesson having achieved a particular movement.

Your practice is to become increasingly capable of seeing, listening, discerning, surrendering, remembering, and remaining in relationship.

The movement will come.

The refinement will come.

The dance will come.

But we do not chase the dance.

We prepare ourselves to receive it.