Compassion, Intuition and Healing
By Alina Milan, Certified E.S.M.T.
Exploring Intuition and Mindfulness
Intuition is not enough. It is not enough to simply think that the heart or
feelings will lead you because with this thought quite often one is being led
by their own needs and results.
Having a clear understanding and knowledge of the specific subject, in this
case, Equine Body Work, learning all of the “left brain” things, such as
anatomy, gait work, conformation are extremely important because the confidence
of knowledge opens you up to live more freely in the right brain, while also
living in the now.
A Story About John
This story illustrates the different ways each person deals with an
emotionally traumatic experience. I feel it is important because a health
professional must be able to assess each person’s or horse’s comfort level
without judgment. One must hold themselves outside of the emotional bubble and
yet still remain attuned and compassionate to facilitate the healing.
John was a friend of mine. When they called us from the hospice where John
was staying, we knew it was time. There were four of us. We could hear him
breathing before we opened the door. He was lying in bed staring straight
ahead. His arms were at his side. He was panting out of fear...I think. He never
looked at anyone. He just stared straight ahead. He looked very small.
Two of his friends sat on the bed on either side of him. His other friend
sat at the back of the room. Right up close to the wall. He never moved. I was
at the foot of the bed. I don’t think John could focus on us. I don’t think he
could die and be with us at the same time.
The sound was everywhere...his breathing...ragged and deep. Like a mantra. His
two friends began to act silly. Saying stupid things, telling dirty jokes. They
began putting things on John’s head: a paper cup, a napkin. They found a pencil
and stuck it through the cup, still balanced on his head. The cup teetered from
side to side.
I held my breath. Clenched my teeth. John kept breathing. The walls were
breathing and the others kept laughing. They were supposed to be his friends.
What right did I have to say anything? I doubted myself. Why didn’t I do
something? Say something. I wanted to scream. To take him and run.
John kept panting. Someone suggested that we call his parents. That maybe
that would help him and then you were on the phone. His mother. When he heard
your voice, his body gave in. He relaxed. All he needed was to hear your voice.
To hear his mother, mom, mommy say, “There, there, it’s alright. I love you,
Son. I love you sweet boy.” It’s all he ever wanted. And I realized that in
the end it doesn’t matter what kind of mother you are, whether you are cruel,
judging, unforgiving or sweet and warm and loving...all any of us ever really
want is for our mother to say, “I love you. It’s alright.”
One of his friends got off the bed and left the room. His other friend
started sobbing, pawing at John. John’s nurse took him outside. I knew it was
time. I realized why we were friends. That I was the one who was supposed to
help him out of this world. I went to him. I told him that I loved him. I said,
“Take my hand, John, It’s time to go. Okay. Let’s go.” For a moment, I
panicked. Is this right? Is it time? And then I looked at him and said, “Come
with me. We’ll go out there and we’ll fly around. It’ll be so beautiful. I’ll
go out with you as far as I can. I won’t leave you. I promise. I love you. Come
on, let’s go.”
He took a deep breath and then turned and said something. I missed it. He
squeezed my hand. Like a breath being caught and then blown away. He was gone.
Not a sound. And then it seemed that the room was filled with millions of
particles of John, sparkling, floating, falling on my skin, in my hair, on my
eyelashes. I breathed him into me.
Then I washed his body. I touched his skin, his face, closed his eyes. I
dressed him. Do you know that he always slept in a suit? It’s important that
you know that he was loved. I loved your son. He was important to us. He had
worth. He was somebody. He taught me to trust myself. He taught me how
important it is to be selective. To surround yourself only with people that you
trust with your heart and soul. This may sound strange to you but there have
been times since he’s been gone when I’ve been scared and alone and I feel him
come to me. I felt his presence. I loved your son. He gave me the greatest gift
of all, himself, and he broke my heart at the same time.
In memory of John and all of the other abandoned Sons, I continued
to work in hospice care while living in San Francisco.
Being in the “now” is very challenging on any given day, but is especially so
when one is working through a trauma with another being. It is as though one
must slide an imaginary shade between the emotional situation and one’s own
emotional needs so that you can continue to view the situation viscerally,
acting from intuition, compassion and mindfulness.
In the above example, each person in the room became my teacher. As it is when
working with horses, often they will show you where you need to go. However, if
one is not able to listen, it will be a missed opportunity to facilitate
healing or building trust for future treatments.
Understanding the Emotional Differences of Horses
The importance of recognizing the emotional differences of horses, as with
people, is necessary in order to modify specific modalities. For example,
head-shy horses, while they may need MFR (myofascial release) work cranially,
may also not be open to the work. Therefore it is the therapist’s job to be
able to identify another way in.
In such cases, who is the teacher? The horse? The owner? The massage therapist?
Perhaps all of them. To remain open, it is important not to judge the horse,
the client or one’s self. Sometimes the best way to a horse is opening up to
the owner or handler.
Linda Tellington, through her studies on horse’s personalities, shares
another way of “feeling” and “understanding.” Is this her way of also
acknowledging the uniqueness of each horse’s “spirit?” I think so.
Tom Dorrance discusses it in his work when he describes the third piece.
“The rider needs to recognize the whole horse,” he writes. “This includes the
physical and the mental...and a third factor. It is the least mentioned but I
am beginning to believe it is the most important...Spirit...”
Additionally, he notes that “people have to rely on themselves. I tell
people that it has to come right out of the inside of themselves. There can be
some direction, or support and encouragement, but the FEELING itself can come
from no one but themselves...” (True Unity)
Maybe all of this is obvious to others...just as it is to me until a stress,
a bad day, suddenly knocks me out of myself – losing that balance which enables
me to feel, listen closely and intuit. Suddenly, like most people, I am drawn
into the race for results. I’ve found the key is to recognize that we have
slipped off the path.
Explaining the “Feel”
How do you explain the “feel” to others? The transitions between left brain
and right? I feel that it is a state of grace...an in-between place like
empathic work.
The work with my friend John taught me to travel between the two places; to
be with someone else with the intent to “do no wrong.” What is important is to
know what is specific for a person or an animal. The goal with this work
is:
- To find true understanding in the moment
- To facilitate healing
- To assist in learning
- To comfort in death
A while ago, I was talking with my veterinarian about the stray puppy I
found, and as the dog was squirming away from him in fear, his voice dropped to
“sing-song” and then he sat down on the floor Buddha-style, and continued
talking to her. She looked back at him and slowly walked to him. “They’re all
just looking to be loved,” he said. We then talked about school and all that I
learned, bones, muscles, modalities, and he stopped me and said, “All of that
is great, but the most important thing of all is compassion. Because
where there is compassion there is love.” He continued to talk of his practice
and medical school and of all the extremely talented clinicians that he had
worked with, but the ones who really stood out understood there was another
piece to healing, teaching, caring for others...the ability to have
compassion.
When I treat my human clients, before I can create a workout plan, first I
must take in the person in wholeness. Their strengths and weakness in the
physical, as well as emotional, to begin to develop a plan. Before teaching an
exercise, a modification of it may be necessary and without mindfully seeing
the person I would be unable to adapt to where they were in the moment.
Additionally, it is vital to know that people and animals are not the same in
the next moment and the importance of staying open to what is rather than how
it should be or the way it was before.
Exploring Massage Modalities
In studying the different types of massage modalities, is one more effective
than the other? And if it is more effective, for what type of physical/mental
issue is it suited? However, before the “issue” is dealt with, the animal or
human in its wholeness needs to be mindfully “seen.” To “breathe” the human or
animal in, to take in their physical and emotional personalities, not with
judgment but as a way of building through empathy a pathway of communication to
build trust and respect.
There are many different modalities of equine massage: myofascial release,
craniosacral, Reiki, acupressure, deep tissue, sports, energy work and within
these there are different styles and approaches. Yet to me, the true challenge
is to remain open to all things while holding on to your intuition.
A case in point: One day, my horse Lacy and I worked with a trainer and the
outcome was disastrous. I realized that while there are different schools of
thought regarding horse training, this particular style was definitely not
working for us. Why had I allowed this type of training to go on? Why hadn’t
I listened to myself and my horse? Her behavior had changed...she was
definitely not a happy horse. And neither was I happy. It seems I had become
lost in the “shoulds” and “results” of the work and had lost sight of the very
thing that I had been seeking: harmony with my horse. I had lost the grounding
within myself; my intuition, and without it I had lost my power of
listening.
The guilt that I felt and still feel for letting my horse down was terrible.
How have I found myself in this situation? How could I have lost my center? I
should know better. But that’s the thing, the lesson for me is that there is a
delicate balance in the pursuit and upkeep of the spirit. As a facilitator, one
must never lose sight of this when it comes to our human and animal
clients...
One never arrives with all the answers and if you think that you know
something beyond a doubt then the window of compassion and intuition closes.
These are necessary and are in fact essential in practicing any modality.
Without these, one cannot truly assess the person or an animal. I believe that
when compassion and intuition are involved love is present. Love is the door
to the soul.
It should be noted that although compassion and intuition are essential
tools to facilitate healing, technical knowledge is also extremely important.
Perhaps compassion is the link.
Teachers, Muses and Such
I have had the privilege of studying and working with some extremely gifted
people. The two who have had the greatest impact on me were Martha Graham, one
of the pioneers in modern dance, and Stella Adler, also a pioneer in creating a
method of stage and film acting.
What I got from both of these women was their unflinching ability to seek
the truth in the voice of their craft. Although both were extremely talented in
their respective disciplines both must have known that it wasn’t enough. It
was their constant quest for new skills, developing the art of sensitivity
through understanding the beat of the heart in all things, celebrating life and
death in their work, honoring the spirit above all else, childlike curiosity,
technique and skill through study, seeking to understand human-ness without
judgment, delving into ones’ emotional abyss, and above all else, fearlessness
in searching for the truth in a word, in movement, in a moment and in life
itself. Acknowledging that it is living in the moment which we all strive for
and that which gives us the most clarity.
If I had to put a name to all of the above it would be passion. For, without
passion, all action is flat. Is this why horses draw so many of us in? Their
passionate, powerful, energy? Or is it simply the Spirit of the Horse.
Last year, I attended Equine Affaire and watched Linda Tellington-Jones
demonstrate how to ground a spooky, fearful horse. After the demo, I had the
privilege of talking with her on the subject of equine behavior, most
especially how to ground an un-grounded animal. We talked of specific massage
and ground techniques but that which became the through line of working and
reaching a fearful horse was working from the heart. The heart connection.
Once again, while perhaps education, knowledge, acquired skill through study
is extremely important, it seems that those driven by their passion and love of
the horse/human bring a deeper level of connection through their commitment and
understanding that to facilitate change—respect, compassion, and heart is
essential.
Additionally, while I have not had the chance to work with him directly, I
am in awe of John Barnes, his work and his courage to have followed his vision
no matter what so that I might now learn and delve further into myofascial
training.
With each new step we take, as with the horse, it is this first one, fresh,
new and without the past which gives us the truth.
There is a vitality, a life force, an energy,
a quickening, that is translated through you into action,
and because there is only one of you in all time,
this expression is unique. — Martha Graham
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