Eleanore Merrill

Being with horses as they move around their herd is the most grounding and powerful way for me to find my answers and regain my calm. I am instantly able to regulate my emotions when a horse breathes close to me. It is a privilege to be involved with the Equellness Center where we share the powerful impact that I first remember really noticing when a couple once booked a ride with me.

The man spoke almost the entire way, explaining he had planned this for his wife, who loved horses and had ridden for years. But I sensed something different—she felt distant, guarded, almost distrustful. The man took up a lot of space, and their message to each other wasn’t clear.

I had planned for her to ride a particular mare, but as we approached, the horses barely looked up. There was a timelessness in their presence—no doing, only a quiet signal to pause and just be here.

So I didn’t saddle up. The man picked up a brush and found the mare, who responded with curiosity to him, while the woman drifted behind a tree to sit near a gelding quietly nibbling fallen pears. She picked up a pear and began munching alongside him.

The man’s need to fill the silence softened, replaced by quiet attentiveness. Each found their own way to connect with the moment.

After a while, the woman smiled and spoke softly about a horse from her youth who helped her through deep grief. For the first time, her voice was heard. We all listened—not just to her words, but to the rhythm around us: the soft crunch of pears, the grounded presence of the horses.

There was no need to ride, fix, or explain—only being. Just making it through one moment, then the next. Together. And in that quiet way, something deeply nourishing emerged. The horses had guided us into a space that felt safe, accepting, and whole.