Connection + the Anatomy of Trust

From the Archive

The following piece was written around 2014 during an earlier stage of my journey working with horses.

While much of my work now sits under the broader umbrella of Her WildLife, the reflections here still capture an important part of how my thinking around behaviour, trust and relationships with animals has developed over time.


After two days of rain the creek is finally running again.

The tanks are half full, the grass is green and everything feels freshly washed. I found myself sitting beside the water this morning with pen and paper, reflecting on my first week back working with Talisman, or Emmit as we usually call him.

Something about the relationship already feels clearer. A little like the land after rain.

Most mornings this week we have met in the round yard at 5am. Nothing complicated. Just reconnecting and revisiting the basics. Grooming, direction, go, stop, rhythm, balance.

In my work with horses I tend to use a combination of reinforcement strategies. Positive reinforcement, adding something the horse values after a desired behaviour, and negative reinforcement, the release of pressure once the horse offers the correct response. I also establish a clear verbal bridge to mark the moment the behaviour occurs, along with consistent verbal cues and body signals for movements such as walk, trot, canter, stop or back up.

When done thoughtfully this approach reduces the need for excessive pressure or equipment later on. The horse learns to understand what is being asked rather than simply reacting.

What surfaced most strongly for us this week though was not technique.

It was trust.

Trust in myself, and trust between myself and this enormous animal standing in front of me.

Emmit is a big horse. Not only physically, but in personality. He has an immense presence and at times he can feel intimidating, even for someone who has spent most of her life around horses.

As a young horse he could be quite reactive. He is naturally alert and responsive to his environment, which meant small changes sometimes produced big reactions. Age seems to have brought him a little more maturity though. More often than not these days he pauses and thinks before reacting.

Interestingly, I believe part of that may come from not pushing him too hard when he was young. His spirit was never dulled or suppressed. He remains curious, attentive and deeply aware of what is happening around him.

He is also very people oriented. If he spots you walking across the paddock he will often wander over simply to say hello. It is a lovely quality, though it occasionally comes with a casual disregard for personal space.

Which brings us back to trust.

Trust has never been something that comes easily to me. That realisation became clearer this week while I was reflecting on my work with Emmit.

Around the same time my sister sent me a talk by Brené Brown on the anatomy of trust. Her ideas helped me break the concept down into something more practical.

When I started applying that lens to my relationship with Emmit, a few things became obvious.

The anatomy of trust in an equine relationship

Boundaries
Clear boundaries matter. Horses need to understand our physical space and expectations, and we also need to respect their boundaries in return.

Reliability and consistency
Trust grows when cues and responses remain predictable. Horses thrive on consistency. When our signals change constantly, confusion replaces trust.

Accountability
When something is not working it is easy to blame the horse. Often the more productive place to look is at ourselves and our timing, clarity, emotional state or technique.

Integrity
Integrity means choosing the patient and correct path rather than the quick or easy one. It means aligning our actions with the values we claim to hold.

If we cannot listen to the horse, through posture, expression and behaviour, then the horse has little reason to listen to us.

Trust is built quietly through the small interactions repeated every day.

Interestingly, while reflecting on all this I found myself revisiting an article I wrote many years ago about fear and trust in horses. At the time I wrote that fear often disguises itself as procrastination, apathy or lack of motivation.

Reading those words again was uncomfortable.

The truth is I had been putting off returning to work with Emmit for quite some time. Not because of him exactly, but because of my own perception of him. His size, presence and intensity can be confronting.

Perception is a powerful thing.

Working with him again has highlighted some personal lessons about boundaries and how I respond to individuals who feel intimidating. Horses have a remarkable way of revealing those patterns.

Our work together is only just beginning again. It will be interesting to see what else emerges along the way.

© Mel Spittall