Life in the “manestream” is so very interesting. My first job this morning was bodywork for a horse who had colic surgery two weeks ago. Massage is generally contraindicated soon after surgery, and I had no intention of working near the incision site.
When I visited this horse in his stall confinement earlier in the week, I noticed how tight and uncomfortable he looked pretty much over his entire body, but especially in his neck and shoulders. Not a surprise, considering he was upside down on an operating table for his surgery. Puts all kinds of parts in unusual and awkward positions. Not to mention the tendency of pain – both before and after the surgery – to cause muscles and fascia to tighten. So, my intention was to work on superficial fascia in the front end and do some basic energy balancing acupressure.
As always, though, the horse is the one who is really in charge of the session. And I have worked with this horse enough that he feels quite free to let me know what he wants, or even if he doesn’t want to be touched. Today, I started on the right side of his neck, with light pressure stretching the skin and just barely connecting with the superficial muscles. But it didn’t take long before he had maneuvered himself so the part of the neck getting the most attention was the area over and around the first cervical vertebra and the occipital crest, where the temporal bone (the horse’s facial bone) articulates with the neck.
That led to me spending the time to gently massage his entire head, something I realize I am very seldom moved to do. He ended up getting light pressure all over his face, from forehead to nose and cheekbone to cheekbone. He stood absolutely still, eyes closed, head and neck low and mouth relaxed. Happy horse.
A little energy balance and he was melting into a puddle of contentment when his owner arrived to see what was going on.
“How’s my boy?” she asked. I explained what I had done, saying I guessed he must have had a bit of a headache, because he sure wanted me to focus there.
She stopped short and got the strangest look on her face – jaw dropped, big eyes. “Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. How did you know?” Then she started to tear up. “How could you know?”
Considering she has been keeping in close contact with her friend Janet, an animal communicator, ever since the surgery, I had an inkling what she might be talking about. “Okay, what did he tell her?” I asked.
Seems that yesterday evening, after she and I traded phone calls to confirm today’s session, she had talked to Janet (also a very experienced horsewoman) about our plan for me to just check in with the horse to see whether he wanted any bodywork today or wanted to be left alone. And the horse had told his person, through the communicator, that what he wanted most was very light touch all over his head.
A little chills-up-the-spine moment for me. I just love it when the universe arranges these fascinating convergences to remind us there really is more out there than we can see or touch.
How did I know? I believe the horse told me. What do you think?