I had a conversation with a friend the other day, and afterwards I noticed my chest was tight, my shoulders were somewhere up by my ears, and there was this low hum of unease I couldn’t quite place. Naturally, I did what we all do. I started trying to work out why.
Was it something she said? Do I just have too much on this week? Maybe, deep down, I don’t actually enjoy her company as much as I thought?
On my way inside I met Minne by the door. Head up, eyes bright, watching me intently, the way he does. He’s got this huge, solid, soft neck, and he’s one of those horses who genuinely loves a hug — which delights me every single time. So I leaned in. And as I felt how strong and solid he was, just holding me up without asking anything of me, I let out this enormous sigh and thought… ohhh. This isn’t mine. I’m holding her stress, not my own. It was never actually about me at all.
That gap — knowing perfectly well why you’re stressed, and still walking around with a tight chest and a knotted stomach anyway — is such a familiar one, isn’t it? And it makes sense, because stress was never really an intellectual problem to begin with. It’s a physical one. Talking things through is genuinely valuable, don’t get me wrong, but it’s often just not enough on its own to settle a body that’s been quietly running on high alert.
The limits of the thinking brain
Here’s the thing about our survival system — it doesn’t speak in words at all.
It has no interest in your very sensible list of reasons. It only speaks in heart rate, muscle tension, breath.
You cannot reason your heart into slowing down, however hard you try. And actually, all that analysing often just adds more noise to a system that’s already had quite enough, thank you. To really shift it, we have to meet the body in the language it actually understands: sensation, not explanation. Which is where Minne comes in…
What horses teach us about processing stress
Horses live in a world with no words at all, and yet they are extraordinary at this. A rustle in the bushes and a horse tenses instantly, heart rate up, ready to go. But the moment he realises it was only the wind — that’s it, done. He doesn’t wander over to the herd to talk it through. He simply shakes it off, quite literally: a long breath, a full-body shake, a bit of licking and chewing at the jaw. And then he’s back to grazing, just like that. He isn’t carrying yesterday’s worry into today.
That’s what Minne gave me at the door. Not an explanation, not advice — just a body solid and honest enough that it could hold mine, not take on my dress – and my body finally told me the truth.
You might like: What is co-regulation? (and how horses do it without words)
Shifting from “why” to “how”
We’re so quick to build ourselves a lovely little story about our stress, aren’t we — I’ve got too much on, I probably don’t like her as much as I thought. But quite often the real answer isn’t a story at all. It’s simpler than that, and a bit stranger: sometimes you’re just feeling what someone else is feeling. And the moment you notice that in your body, you can actually let it go.
That’s really the whole shift — from “why do I feel this way” to “how does this actually feel, right now, in my body.” So next time you catch yourself spinning:
- Find it. Where’s it sitting — chest, throat, jaw? No need to fix it, just notice where it lives.
- Feel what’s underneath you. Your feet on the floor, the chair at your back. Let yourself sink into it, even just a fraction.
- Exhale. One breath in, and a soft sigh out. See if your shoulders drop even slightly.
- Come and visit Minne – strong recommendation for those who can!!
Coming back to the body
Talking helps us make sense of things. But the last bit of healing always happens in the muscles and the breath, not the mind. You don’t need to solve every worry to find some relief.
Sometimes the truest thing you can do is stop talking for a moment, lean into something solid (I recommend Minne!), and let your body tell you what’s actually going on.
At Tula Vida, we’re always here to give you the space you need to step back from the routine and return to yourself in the calmness of nature, surrounded by the wisdom of the herd. No pressure—just a gentle reminder!