Читать книгу Horse Sense for People - Monty Roberts - Страница 6

It took almost my business lifetime to begin to understand the tremendous power that can be leveraged when people’s individualism, creativity and wisdom are unleashed.

In recent years there has been a growing appreciation of enlightened forms of leadership that seek to engage, involve and inspire, as opposed to the long-standing practices of “direct and control.”

Meeting Monty Roberts and absorbing his philosophy was a really magical moment for me—I am inspired by his beliefs and impressed by his actions. He clearly demonstrates that kindness and respect for the horse are superior to the traditional breaking of the animal’s spirit. Monty’s notion that the teacher (or leader) must create an environment in which the student can learn and grow is simple, direct and honest—it fit perfectly with a style of leadership that I have been experimenting with since the early eighties.

Monty Roberts certainly listens to horses but, in my humble opinion, he delivers a powerful message to people and, in particular, people at all levels of leadership. What he achieves with a horse is a metaphor for a style of management—employees will produce exceptional results if they are treated with dignity, respect and honesty.

In the world of organizations and business we make the mistake of putting people in boxes and limiting their abilities and creativity—we need to find a means of changing the way people think about themselves, their jobs and how they work as individuals and in teams. I suggest you couldn’t start anywhere better than this book.

CLIVE WARRILOW

Volkswagen North America

CEO and President

I am not usually to be found kicking up the sawdust of a riding ring, especially if it means taking a long drive to get there. My encounters with horses have been limited to having them step on my feet on hot summer camp mornings nearly forty years ago. As an adult, I look at them as not much more than a one-horse power motorcycle with a mind for unpredictability. I once spent a ludicrous amount of money to ride a horse named “Cheesehead” while I looked, dry-mouthed, down a thousand-foot drop in Yosemite National Park convinced that my mount was more interested in biting the rear end of the horse in front of me than concentrating on his footing. I have never grasped why so many people, including gaggles of little girls, have such a big thing for these creatures of tonnage that can decide to run like a demented rabbit just because a piece of paper blows across the trail.

So again, I wonder why I am standing in sawdust while people with big shiny belt buckles, jeans and pointy boots mill around me. The loudspeakers are playing full orchestral renditions of “Don’t Fence Me In” and “Tumbling Tumble Weeds.” With my nondescript beige pants (khakis?) and T-shirt I must look out of place. I am also too fat to ride horses. I’m surrounded by opposites, hundreds of gangly men and tiny women. Like the horse they appear to love so deeply, they are a different species.

Oddly enough we are all here to see the only other person in the place who doesn’t look like he ever rides a horse, Monty Roberts. I’m here to see a man who deciphered the horse’s natural language, Equus. By demonstrating its application he is spreading the word about how to rid the world of outmoded concepts about the violent domination of horses. I rather suspect he has simply invented a way to convince a horse that it is in its best interest to allow itself to be ridden. Sure, he is kind of a Jane Goodall or Dian Fossey of the horse world, but I would just as soon watch that kind of thing on PBS.

Why am I here? Why has his best-selling book The Man Who Listens to Horses been read by millions of people like me who would just as soon never deal with a horse? The music stops and Monty walks into a circular metal fenced ring. He looks like a London cabby. This is the man who was a child prodigy, a wonder rider. Arguably he knows more about horses than any other person on this earth. His eyes are pale and full of life; yet ironically he is completely color-blind. At sixty-one he has the clarity and cadence of voice of a thirty-year-old. He’s not wearing a cowboy hat. There’s no denim, just a nondescript jacket.

This is the man who listens to horses. For his first act, he takes a horse that has never been ridden. He communicates with it by using a fascinating body language, all the while talking on a wireless to a hushed crowd. The horse moves nervously around the ring while he allows it, he tells us, to go the usual distance it would if a predator were trying to chase it down. Monty freely admits that he is the predator and gently induces a little anxiety that puts the horse into a trotting flight around the ring. Then Monty does his magic.

The Join-Up begins. Through a series of bossy postures and motions he actually communicates to the horse in Equus and the horse has an amazing change of heart: Monty is not a predator—Monty is now not only a friend, but a powerful one with experience and savvy, offering protection and companionship. The worst fear of every prey herd animal is isolation. Monty has taken advantage of this fear. Within twenty minutes not only has Monty communicated that he isn’t a retractable-clawed killing machine, but that he is an in-the-know, all-protective alpha partner. The horse, now “joined-up” with Monty, shows some apprehension if separated from him, like a two-year-old human child trying to keep constant contact with a parent.

Monty’s communication with this animal creates a trust that is astonishing. Before the demonstration I sarcastically made the comment to my wife that Monty will probably be taming the most ludicrous of vaudeville beasts. I was overwhelmed to observe just the opposite. His new friend accepts a saddle and a rider, all because Monty said “trust me” in the horse’s language. Monty transformed himself from the predator to the horse’s ally. Now that horse will go to extremes to comply with him.

During the entire process, Monty has been giving a verbal rundown of what he is doing, even at one point asking the crowd to applaud loudly. It is apparent that Monty has harnessed the horse’s willingness to work with him. Every time the crowd applauds, the horse draws itself closer to the man, seeking the safety of its newfound protector. When the applause ends, the horse relaxes, feels free to wander a bit, but still is attentive to Monty’s presence. Restarting the applause sends the horse back to Monty for comfort and solace. Monty is clearly perceived as a place of safety. All this is opposite of the age-old practice of breaking a horse, which usually involves inflicting pain and terror on the animal. The traditional method of breaking literally mortifies a horse until it seems to accept its own spiritual death, and in doing so survives.

The real reason I am here is to see a man who is taking a giant leap of faith, past the world of horses. It is simply stated: cooperation is better than domination; the world could use much less pain and fear. Monty has used his knowledge of horses as a vehicle for the message. I see him as a kind of Buddhist monk, who I suspect doesn’t even know that he is a practitioner of compassion and empathy in all affairs among people and between people and animals.

I am no “new age” adherent. Too many “new ages” have come and gone for me to be impressed. Today’s atmosphere has allowed Monty Roberts to rise to recognition in an arena where men are men and horses are horses, and this is good. He is as much a reflection of the times as the other way around.

It is a simple, if large, step from a new kind of relationship between person and animal to learning to take the time to understand the ground on which all other people and living things stand. We are the truly pliable ones. If we want to talk to turtles, then it is up to us to learn turtle language, not the other way around.

Monty Roberts has demonstrated that all relationships can be based on a spirit of cooperation and empathy, whether it is with a ferret or the entire biosphere. All that is required is that we take the time and have the patience to learn the other’s language instead of brashly imposing our own. We are the capable ones. Primate researchers spent years trying to teach a chimpanzee to talk. All that came of it was a desperate ape that could barely say “mama.” Then our behavioral experts started to lighten up and stopped insisting on our way of doing things; before long chimps were babbling away using sign language. Their brains don’t have the motor control that allows the complexities of human speech.

Monty takes obvious pride in breaking a long chain of violent human domination. His message is clear and simple: all violence is bad; cooperation is good. There will always be conflicts in nature. It’s the way of the world. There are distinctions. Man’s violence against man is virtually always immoral. Nature is always amoral. My message is simple: I went to see Monty Roberts and watched him work with two horses. I learned about the language of Equus. I still don’t like the beasts and probably won’t again see the inside of a riding ring for years to come, but I did see a happy man who loves people, and who, while staying within the realm of horses, managed to plead for quietus, peace and compassion between people and the animals with which we cohabit this blue-green sphere. Equus is just the first language. There are many, many to come if we only take the time to stop, look, listen and Join-Up.

MICHAEL SCHWARTZ, PH.D.

Prime Factors Inc.

Chairman