TODAY’S MUSINGS:
Years ago, I took a week’s vacation at Miraval Resort. I had just wrapped up a successful event in Phoenix and decided to head to Tucson for some much needed R&R. While the resort leaned a little too “L.A.” for my taste—some guests’ entitlement encroaching on others’ relaxation (mine included)—I did enjoy one hot and dusty afternoon in a program led by renowned author and therapist, Wyatt Webb, called “It’s Not about the Horse.”

If you’re unfamiliar with Wyatt Webb, he’s the kind of man who looks like he’s been carved from Arizona desert rock and seasoned by hard truths. A tad grizzled, no-nonsense, and grounded in cowboy sensibility, he brings a raw, unvarnished honesty to his programs at the resort. There’s nothing slick or sugar-coated in his approach—he tells it like it is, peppered with F-bombs and with the grit of someone who’s lived through the storms he now helps others navigate. With the presence of a man who’s spent time in both the saddle and life’s shadows, Webb blends the wisdom of old-school ranch life with the insight of a therapist who knows healing doesn’t happen without a little dirt under your fingernails.

“It’s Not About the Horse” is less a workshop and more a reckoning—with yourself. Developed by Webb, the program uses horses not as tools, but as mirrors. There’s no riding, no horsemanship lessons—just you, a thousand-pound animal, and whatever emotional baggage you’re dragging along with you. In Webb’s world, the horse doesn’t care about your résumé, your excuses, or your defenses. It responds to what’s real and now. If you’re angry, scared, shut down, or trying too hard, the horse feels it—and reflects it back. You can’t charm your way into trust. In that corral, what’s buried comes up—and fast.

The genius of the program lies in its simplicity. It’s you and a horse—and all you need to do is get the animal to pick up his foot and let you hold it, as if to clean his hoof. Sounds easy, right?

There’s a dozen of us attending the program. Webb selects his first volunteer; she attempts to get the horse to lift it’s foot using the technique Webb has taught us earlier, but the horse refuses to budge. Webb pulls the volunteer away and starts asking her questions about what’s holding her back, what trauma she hasn’t let go. As soon as she begins to tell her story,  I break down in tears. I cannot hold back the waterworks. I believe I had done the necessary work and let go of my trauma,  but her recounting of her own trauma strikes a chord and I cannot control my emotions. The woman tries again and the horse doesn’t move. More talking, more release, more tears from me. She tries again. More talking,  another try—until the horse eventually lifts his foot. Yay! Webb swears it’s not a trick and the horse has not been trained to keep his foot on the ground. By the time the horse complies, I’m a mess of red eyes, snot filled nose, and tears that won’t stop. Then the next volunteer gives it a try and the same thing happens: he can’t get the horse to move, he talks through his trauma with Webb, and I’m bawling my eyes out. Some people get the horse to lift after three or four attempts, others need ten. And I continue to blubber my way through it all.

Wyatt saves me for last. By the time it’s my turn,  I have no tears left. Wyatt asks me why I was crying throughout; a bit of a smile plays on his lips. I can’t put it into words. “I’ve been there,” is all I can manage in response. Even the woman whose abusive husband died—I cannot relate to her experience, but, somehow, I’ve been there. Wyatt asks, “What do you want to do?” He didn’t ask others that particular question.

I have spent close to two hours watching each participant attempt to get the horse to lift his left front leg, the leg most accessible to the group. I’ve watched eleven people try to lift the same leg on the same horse in the same manner again and again and again—without much success. When it’s my turn, I understand I must still work with the same horse, but I can switch legs. If I was in the horse’s shoes, I surmise, I’d be tired of all these strangers trying to get me to lift my leg over and over again.

“I want to try the other leg,” I say.
“Well then do it,” he responds. “Move the horse.”

I approach the horse and tug on the rope to move him around so I have unfettered access to his right leg. I tap just above the fetlock like Wyatt previously demonstrated. Success! The horse lifts his leg and gives me his hoof on my very first try. I’m the only one who manages this. “Now do it on the other one,” Wyatt commands. I move to the left leg and the horse lifts his hoof again, albeit a little more grudgingly.

I leave Wyatt with as many questions as answers. Have I really worked through all my trauma so much so that I am the lone person who can make the horse respond on my first try? Or have I just spent the last two hours crying out all my trauma so that when my turn comes, I am for once clear and clean and baggage free? Why was this entire experience so emotional for me? I’ve been told by friends that I’m not much of an empath, but I’m the keeper of empathy this day; for the other guests as well as the poor, bored horse. But more than anything, I walk away from this experience with a new understanding that I have a unique ability to see situations differently than others. No matter how much drive, desire, or determination I possess, if I duplicate what’s already been done, I shouldn’t be surprised when I receive the same results.

Now I comprehend that when things aren’t working for others—or even for myself—sometimes I need to take a fresh look and, to ensure a different result:  Move the proverbial horse.

TODAY’S RECIPE:
Speaking of trying something different,  I’m known for my everlasting love of butter and sugar.  Today, I’m sharing this vegetarian grain bowl loaded with healthy grains, roasted vegetables, and some interesting toppings like lemon-green olive relish.

Mediterranean Grain Bowl with Lemon-Olive Relish & Minted Yogurt Sauce

• Servings: 4 Bowls
• Print

Ingredients

Grain Base
• 2 cups cooked grain such as farro, freekeh, brown rice, barley, or a combination, slightly cooled
• ¾ teaspoon kosher salt
• ¾ teaspoon ground cumin
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
Roasted Vegetables
• 3 Japanese eggplants, sliced into 1-inch pieces
• 1 red bell pepper, sliced into 1-inch pieces
• 1 small red onion, sliced into 1-inch pieces
• 1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• Kosher salt and pepper to taste
Lemon-Green Olive Relish
• Zest of 1 lemon, removed with a knife, finely chopped, leaving pith behind
• Juice of 1 lemon
• ½ cup green olives, such as Castelvetrano, finely chopped
• 1 teaspoon olive oil
Garlic-mint Yogurt Sauce
• 1 cup plain Greek yogurt
• 1 garlic clove, minced
• Juice of 1 lemon
• 2 tablespoons chopped fresh mint
• 1 tablespoon chopped parsley
• ¼ teaspoon kosher salt
Toppings
• ½ cup toasted walnuts, roughly chopped
• 1 cup feta cheese
• Extra chopped parsley and mint
• Sumac

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 425°F. Toss warm grains with salt, cumin, and olive oil. Set aside and keep warm.
2. Toss eggplant, red pepper, and onion with olive oil, salt, and pepper. Roast for 20 minutes. Stir and add tomatoes. Roast until vegetables become caramelized and tender, 15-20 minutes more.
3. While vegetables roast, combine ingredients for lemon-green olive relish and set aside at room temperature.
4. Combine ingredients for garlic-mint yogurt sauce. Add a few tablespoons of warm water if sauce is too thick. Set aside.
5. To assemble, Spread warm grains in bowls (warm up if needed). Top with garlic-mint yogurt sauce and warm roasted veggies. Garnish with lemon-green olive relish, toasted walnuts, feta, fresh herbs, and sumac.