Goat yoga is great and all, but let’s talk about horse yoga.

For those of you unfamiliar, goat yoga is a concept that mixes the interaction of goats with yoga and meditation. In this, yoga is practiced in an enclosed area where goats can wander about, sometimes jumping on top of, or weaving through the legs of human participants as they stretch into various poses.

Naturally, goat yoga has experienced a meteoric rise in popularity amongst a predictable clientele of urban participants, so the question must be asked: What comes next?

Let’s talk horses. As the sun sets on my career working with dairy cows, I find myself drawn toward equestrian pursuits. Having horses on a farm that has been traditionally dairy-oriented is a new experience, and understandably so. My grandfather’s generation utilized horses purely as beasts of burden, using them to plow fields and as transportation. My father’s generation embraced agricultural mechanization, and thus disregarded horses as nothing more than “hayburners” or a hobbyist pursuit suitable for the farmwives to dabble in and a phase for the daughters to go through.

My entry into the equestrian world came by accident. My mother purchased a retired quarter horse mare to ride around the farm, against the predictable and tired protests of my dad. “Tootsie” knew full well that she could intimidate my mom, but acted a perfect angel whenever I was around. I would watch from afar as Tootsie stomped her feet or otherwise gave my mom a hard time, but stood alert and at attention whenever I presented myself. Although she was never dangerous and possessed not a single mean bone in her body, that horse knew with enlightened clarity exactly what she could get away with.

The first step to understanding horses is to recognize the superiority of equine hierarchy over human hierarchy. Like horses, humans are herd animals with a clear pecking order. However, whereas humans take it upon themselves to place emphasis on depravity, senility, and outright criminality in the leaders we elect, horses are exactly opposite. In a horse herd, only the wisest, most capable, and virile be allowed access to upper echelons of power. The leadership role in most horse herds is usually held by a boss mare, and must be earned.

The next step to understanding horses is to recognize the level of consciousness and spirituality these animals possess. To think that spirituality and consciousness are limited to the human experience, is a terribly restrictive burden to carry. What follows are true examples that have occurred on my farm in the company of horses:

It’s true that a horse can see directly into your soul. One of my regular riding clients is a proper lady from the city. She is fancy and well-dressed, always presenting herself in the most dignified manner. Each rider is meticulously paired with the perfect horse to match personality, confidence, and expectations. Typically, the horse chooses the rider. In this case, the horse that chose this rider is low in the herd hierarchy; an outcast horse that came from an abusive past, and was nearly euthanized before he came to our farm.

During our last ride, the client was able to work the horse into a controlled gallop. With tears streaming down her face she remarked, “This is the most empowering thing that has ever happened to me.” The more we talked, the more it was revealed that her past mirrored that of the horse: Neglected, abused, taken advantage of, disregarded - kindred spirits that found strength in one another.

I hit a low point in my own life in April of 2023. There was a falling out amongst the family, and as it turns out, no-one can be as cruel as blood. On my nightly walk across the horse pasture, a boss gelding walked with me. As leader of the herd he usually does, except on this particular walk he did something he has never done before or since: He took his nose, and pushed my arms. Over and over again, he tossed my hands and forearms into the air, sometimes over my head. At the end of the walk I turned to him and asked, “What are you trying to tell me, bud?” In the crystal-clear starlit night we stared, his eyes gleaming with knowing wisdom. The thought came to mind as purposefully as the spoken word, “Drop it. Just let go.”

With that, he lowered his head, started grazing, and walked away, leaving me with a sense of peaceful recognition that has yet to subside.

On another moonlit night, I stood in the horse pasture. The same boss gelding stood, facing me. For months, I had suffered through a knot in my back, surely related to stress. At times, the knot is unbearable and keeps me up at night. I quietly remarked out loud, to no one in particular, “Man, my shoulder hurts.”

At that moment the gelding walked behind me, turned his head sideways, and pushed the bone of his forehead directly into the center of the knot. I leaned into his head, and no joke — he worked the knot out of my shoulder.

On yet another episode in the horse pasture, I stood facing the boss gelding. The farm was on the verge of being descended upon by visitors who had not been kind. I was not looking forward to hosting this particular group over the stressful Christmas holiday. Almost jokingly I asked the horse, “What would you have me do, buddy?” At that, he placed his nose under my chin and flicked my head up. The message came as though it had been spoken aloud, “Chin up.”

I am getting older. My body responds to abuse differently than it did last decade. I am okay with that — I enjoy the privilege of growing older, being grounded, and savoring life with a sense of purpose. I strive to be mindful, rather than have a mind that is full.

It feels good to stretch. To lie prone. To feel the earth support me, to smell the soil, run my fingers through the grass, and stretch my toes. Towering above me is a 1,300-pound animal with the collective consciousness of an entire specie. Around me, silhouetted against the night sky are a half-dozen more horses. Any one of them could bumble this way and snuff me out.

True peace of mind is lying there, supported by the earth, and knowing they won’t.

— Dan Wegmueller is the owner of Wegmueller Farms and his column appears regularly in the Times. His website is https://www.farmforthought.org.