Silent Teachers

How Horses Shape Us Without Words

Some of the most profound teachers in our lives are the ones who never speak a word. For me, one of those teachers was Euglena, a kind and steady gelding who carried me through adolescence. He tolerated my mistakes, my frustrations, and even my misplaced anger with a patience that I only fully appreciate now, years later. He didn’t just teach me how to ride—he taught me about forgiveness, consistency, and the quiet power of presence.

“He was what I would now call a low-level schoolmaster, and I can honestly say he was the most forgiving creature I have ever met on this earth. He dealt with my teenage angst like a kindly teacher—calmly listening, and never interrupting or offering unsolicited advice. I still carry guilt for the rides in which my frustrations with my non-horse life came out as anger at Euglena.” Excerpt from Finding Purpose

Horses like Euglena remind us that training is not about control, but about relationship. A forgiving horse allows us to make mistakes and learn without shutting down. They become the safe place where we can practice feel, timing, and empathy. I believe every rider should have the gift of such a teacher at least once in their life. These horses leave an imprint far deeper than any ribbon ever could.

Lessons That Follow Us Off the Horse

The intangible gifts horses give us—patience, humility, resilience—aren’t things we can measure in competition results. They show up in how we carry ourselves, how we respond to stress, and how we extend grace to others. We become better people because of these animals, often without realizing it in the moment.

We become better people because of these animals, often without realizing it in the moment.

Perhaps that is the greatest gift horses like Euglena give us—their lessons unfold slowly, long after the ride is over. They stay with us in the pauses we allow, the patience we practice, and the compassion we choose when things don’t go as planned. Long after the tack is hung up and the memories have softened, their influence remains, shaping not just how we ride, but how we move through the world—with a little more humility, a little more kindness, and a deeper understanding of what it means to listen.

When I reflect on the lessons Euglena gave me, I see them woven into my work every day. He is why I tell my students to thank their horses, even in frustration. The horse you are riding today might be teaching you something you will not understand until years from now.

Have you had a horse like Euglena in your life?