The Power of the Herd Read Online Free

on what should or shouldn’t happen, they sense what is happening and what wants to happen. Then they decide whether the developing situation is in their best interest, and they either go with the flow or get out of the way.
    Horses don’t try to alter the environment, spending much of their time in a relaxed yet heightened state of awareness, ready for anything. As a result, they’re masters at assessing the evolving nuances of reality, deftly avoiding that human tendency to distort reality by engaging in wishful thinking or focusing on the worst possible outcome. For leaders, adopting this expanded, nonpredatory perspective creates an advanced capacity for risk management: paying attention to the subtle dynamics of a situation gives people a leg up in evaluating what they can control or change — and what they can’t — early enough to grasp an unexpected opportunity or avoid being eaten.
    No matter what happens, horses exhibit exceptional emotional agility: They experience each moment openly and authentically, blazing through fear, power, pain, excitement, loss, playfulness, and unmitigated joy. And then they go back to grazing, spending a significant portion of each day milling languidly about in a state of deep peace that arises naturally when you’re not afraid of life.
    Sitting quietly with Rasa, breathing in sync with her mindful acceptance of each and every moment, entrained by the beat of her massive heart, I always felt a sense of calm engulf me, no matter what trials I might otherwise be enduring. This in itself was a daily miracle. Her presence, however, was powerful,not passive. Horses, she taught me early on, actively respond to how people show up each day, highlighting our hidden gifts, our wounds, our vulnerabilities, and our worn-out worldly habits. And yet somehow they manage to be discerning without a hint of judgment, communicating that, at the core, we too are beautiful, powerful, and wise, capable of endless renewal.
    Looking through the eyes of my horse Rasa, I came to see human dysfunctions as surface scintillations, dramatic and sometimes irritating to be sure, but certainly not set in stone. Whenever I managed, through grace or sheer stubborn will, to let go of an old pattern and embody a fresh perspective, Rasa would mirror the transformation, welcoming me home to an even deeper understanding of who I really was. And without the slightest hint of ambition, she would continually up the ante, stretching, relentlessly, my own limited ideas about my place in the world, my calling, and my untapped potential, helping me become a more effective human, one capable not only of dreaming big dreams but of riding a vision with a destiny of its own — and encouraging it to outlive me.
    The view from eternity, after all, is clear: Pleasures and obstacles come and go, but the call to build something of lasting value cannot be denied. If people are “made in the image of their creator,” then human beings are designed to create. And those who accept the challenge of creating something truly remarkable, something imbued with a touch of the divine, aren’t given mortal excuses, reasonable timelines, and voluminous bank accounts. I can’t think of a single visionary who won the lottery to support a brilliant, socially significant idea.
    Struggle is a part of innovation, there’s no doubt. It helps to know this up front, especially when the initial high of inspiration gives way to the realities of manifestation. But it’s also important to realize that we can experience peace on earth, deep peace, right here, right now. Horses do it every day. People all too often ignore this crucial, life-sustaining factor, reducing heaven to a deferred reward. Perhaps that’s why Gaudí hid out in a pauper’s ward after regaining consciousness, waiting for the end rather than fighting against it. Floating in the pure white light of a wider perspective, he was honored;