The Horse I was Afraid of

I turned sixty in 2026.

Sixty!

I remember thinking, "How in the world did that happen?"

Birthdays have a funny way of making us take inventory of our lives. As I looked ahead to the next chapter, I realized there were a few things that just didn't fit anymore.

One of them was my relationship with horses.

Actually... "relationship" is probably too generous.

I was terrified of them.

Not cautious.

Not uncomfortable.

Terrified.

Which is a little awkward when you're an animal communicator.

People assume that because I love animals, I must naturally feel at ease around all of them.

Snakes?

Love them.

Rats?

Have you ever really looked into their eyes? They're some of the sweetest little souls you'll ever meet.

Horses?

Absolutely not.

No thank you.

You all have fun.

I'll be over here.

It never made sense to me.

How could someone who felt such a deep connection with animals be so afraid of horses?

So I made a decision.

My sixtieth year was going to be the year I stopped running from whatever this was.

Then life started leaving me little breadcrumbs.

First, I learned that 2026 was the Chinese Year of the Horse.

"Huh..."

Then I discovered that 1966—the year I was born—was the Year of the Fire Horse.

"Well...that's interesting."

Then a friend reminded me that because I was born in December, I'm a Sagittarius.

Half human.

Half...

Horse.

At that point I started laughing.

Spirit was getting a little obvious.

Then I found a retreat in Costa Rica at a horse sanctuary, co-hosted by Danielle MacKinnon.

I signed up almost immediately.

There was just one small problem.

I was still terrified of horses.

Before I left, I had a quiet intuitive feeling.

I knew two things about the horse I'd be working with.

He would be black.

And he would be the biggest horse there.

I remember thinking...

"Please let me be wrong."

I wasn't.

His name was Galán.

He was a magnificent black Friesian.

And yes...

He was enormous.

Exactly the horse I had hoped not to meet.

Over the next several days something remarkable began to happen.

The horses slowly taught me that they weren't asking me to be fearless.

They were inviting me to become present.

Then came one unforgettable afternoon.

It was raining.

I was lying on the ground beside Galán, connecting with him energetically.

Suddenly I heard him say,

"You are a horse."

I actually laughed.

"Galán...have you looked at me? I'm pretty sure I'm not a horse."

He wasn't amused.

"You are a Fire Horse."

Still confused, I asked him what he meant.

His answer changed my life.

"You aren't afraid of horses."

"You're afraid of yourself."

I lay there in the rain, completely silent.

Then he continued.

"You're afraid of everything within yourself that is horse-like."

"Your strength."

"Your tenderness."

"Your connection to Spirit."

"Your power."

I had spent my entire life believing horses represented something outside of me.

Galán showed me they were reflecting something within me.

That conversation didn't just change the way I felt about horses.

It changed the way I saw myself.

Today I love horses.

Not because I conquered my fear.

But because one extraordinary horse helped me see that what I feared wasn't horses at all.

It was becoming the person I was always meant to be.

Sometimes the greatest gift our animal companions give us isn't comfort.

Sometimes they lovingly introduce us to ourselves.

You May Be Wondering...

What if I'm afraid of an animal?

Fear isn't something to judge or push through as quickly as possible. Sometimes it's simply an invitation to become curious. Ask yourself what that animal represents to you. You may discover that the relationship has something to teach—not because the animal is trying to fix you, but because your willingness to stay present opens the door to seeing yourself in a new way.

May you see the world through the eyes of love, remembering that we are all part of one living, sacred whole.