The Wisdom of Waiting

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When I was young and struggling with a moment of indecision my Dad would tell me, “If you aren’t sure what to do, do nothing.” His advice frustrated the crap out of me. How can I do nothing? How is that the way to make a decision?!

The wisdom of sage advice often takes its time to get into our bones. We can hear it, we can like the quote on social media but to let it have it’s way with us, that takes the time that it takes.

The beauty of working with horses in the way we do – putting our dominant ways in the far back of the bus, breath, patience, deep mutual regard – allows us to see things in ourselves that we can often otherwise either not see or rationalize away.

The horses don’t care about our smart thinking or attempt to put on a confident face when we’re feeling otherwise. They see right through that facade. Or rather, they see the mess we show up as.

When I’m uncertain and struggling to make a decision, the herd shows me that my way of coming to them, my energy, gets all erratic and escalated. There’s no answer or insight coming when we’re in this state. The herd will simply walk away.

It’s not the indecision or not knowing they are responding to, it’s the struggling to make it not so.

Turns out Dad’s advice was pretty horse-like and wonderfully wise. We humans can become consumed with trying to figure things out, Googling the crap out of something, talking with everyone about our dilemma. When we simply pause, acknowledge the not knowing, ground ourselves, get out in nature where everything takes the time it takes and arrives when it arrives, an inner space opens. Our energy calms and syncs with the flow of life.

If the question matters, the answer does come. And if the question needs to change, we see that too. With a coherent heart, the body can be heard. And it never fools us like the mind.

“When I run after what I think I want, my days are a furnace of stress and anxiety; if I sit in my own place of patience, what I need flows to me, and without pain.”
~ Rumi

Thanks to the horses and Dad for being so patient with me.

Christina Turner