Why Slowing Down Can Get You Further with Your Horse

“The slower you go, the faster you'll get there -- with your horse, and in life” - Mark Rashid

It was a hot midday in Portugal a few weeks ago when my phone rang. My neighbour was speaking rapid Portuguese, and though my language skills aren’t perfect, I caught enough words to know it had something to do with my horses and the fences. so I grabbed my trusty fence clippers and hurried down to the field.

Sure enough, I found Jiya, one of my mares, caught in the fence. Somehow she’d stepped over with her front legs and caught her hind legs in the wire. The rest of the herd stood close, quietly keeping her company. She seemed calm, but frozen — unable to move, even once I’d cut her free she didn't dare to try to move.

Gently, I lifted one of her hind legs forward, showing her she could move again. Slowly, she stepped away and onto the track. After checking her over, I headed back to the house to fetch a halter so I could clean her wounds and protect them from the flies.

When I returned, she was still in the same place, and after putting the halter on — unwilling to follow me to the water. Jiya isn’t the highest-ranking horse in the herd, and the others were all dozing together in the shade. And she didn’t want to leave them.

I tried everything I could think of: coaxing with food, asking softly, even visualising the cool water and a refreshing drink. I sent the same vision to Peaches, the herd leader, hoping she’d move and the others would follow. Nothing worked.

Meanwhile, the sun beat down, the flies swarmed, and I could feel my own tension rising. I caught myself getting rigid and frustrated, ready to bring up the pressure to get her to move — and that was the turning point.

I reminded myself to pause.
I took a breath.
I checked in with myself: How am I feeling? How high is my tension?

That’s when I remembered: when the direct route isn’t working, take the longer, easier one.

I took the halter off Jiya, left her in peace, climbed back over the fence to the other horses and went to Peaches. She’s well-trained and the others naturally follow her lead. As soon as she came with me, the whole herd — including Jiya following along the track — walked calmly the 500m to the water.

Jiya isn’t thrilled about the waterspout. So, I first showered down the others (who love it and can show her by being an example)  But after putting a halter on Jiya and brining her to the water spout, she still wasn't enthousiastic about the idea. But by starting at her feet, moving slowly, and letting her explore the sensation, she began to relax. Soon she was experimenting, playing with the water in her mouth, and even turning her body so I could rinse different spots. By the end, I was able to clean her legs completely and treat her wounds — and she was actually enjoying herself.

This experience reminded me of something essential:
Sometimes the quickest way forward is to slow down, regulate yourself, and be willing to adapt. When stress levels rise — yours or your horse’s — the plan might need to change. Taking the long way around can still get the job done, and it can turn a stressful situation into an opportunity for trust, cooperation, and even enjoyment.

Because in the end, it’s not just about the task.
It’s about how we get there — together.

♡

If this story resonates with you — if you’ve ever questioned the old ways, or felt that quiet discomfort in your gut — you’re not alone. There is another way. One that begins with listening. With slowing down. With consent.

And that’s where the real connection begins.