Presence is the First Step Toward Love: What Chris Lombard and His Horses Keep Teaching Me
Every September at the Common Ground Fair, I make my way to the horse ring to watch Chris Lombard work. He’s a Maine horseman and author, and his “demo” isn’t a performance. It’s him stepping into a ring with one horse and a microphone to figure out, in real time, how to connect. No routine. No trick list. Just a conversation using breath, body, and attention instead of force.
This year it was Tally. Seven owners in seven years. Almost blind in one eye. Dozens of scars. She was headed for slaughter before a rescue brought her north. When Chris met her, she was wrapped in cycles of fear.
His approach? He slowed everything down. He gave her presence. He wasn’t trying to control her body. He was inviting her mind. When she drifted, he adjusted his own energy first. He waited. He softened his breath.
At one point Tally kept wanting to move. Eat. Walk. Do anything but stand. Chris asked for something small. Could she stand still for one breath? Could she hold his gaze for two seconds? When she did, he let her come close and rest near his shoulder.
Watching them, I felt a mirror on my own restlessness. I like to move. Walk. Do. Shift to the next task. It looks productive. It also helps me not feel certain things. Underneath that is usually fear. I can’t always name it, but I’m starting to feel it.
Chris once told me about Rocky, his partner for twenty-one years. Their trust let Chris ride blindfolded, even sitting backwards. When Rocky died, Chris said it was one of the most beautiful days of his life. I’m still learning how to let grief and love sit together like that.
Read the full piece on Substack
Learn more about the adventure at www.heart-strong.org
