One Horse Sized Me Up and The Other Made Me Feel Heard.

Written By Bart Berkey | Founder of Most People Don't

THE FIRST HORSE DID NOT COME TO ME

Most animals I have met either walk toward me, because they want something, or wander off because they want nothing to do with me, but Stella did neither.

She simply stayed where she was with her head up and her eyes focused intently on me.

We took a ride last weekend, to a beautiful area in Virginia. It's a small town called Middleburg, and it is in the center of horse country, and home to many local vineyards.

When in this town, we frequently visit the Salamander Resort, which has an equestrian center that is open to the public.

Even though we typically don't ride, we always walk through the barn and visit the horses. If you have never visited a barn before, it is very calming.

This time, two horses in particular caught my attention. Both of these horses are used in equine therapy, and I had assumed, the way I think most people would, that these types of horses would be gentle and eager and a little like a very large dog, so I was not prepared to be evaluated.

Stella is the boss of that barn, and it did not take long to understand that she knew it, and that she had decided to find out whether I was going to be a problem for her.

So I stood there and she stood there, eye to eye, and completely still.

For a long moment it felt like two people meeting in a doorway, each of us accustomed to being the one in charge of the room.

As we stood there in silence, quietly working out who was going to give a little ground first, I recognized her look right away, because I have worn it myself. Especially early on in my career, when I was discovering what "type of horse" I would become as a leader.

THE SECOND HORSE

Then we walked over to the second horse, a mare named Nacho, and I started talking to her about nothing in particular, the way you talk to an animal you have only just met.

Then her ears started to move.

Then, both horses turned toward me at the same time, and one of them rotated slightly back and came forward again, twitching with every change in my voice, and after a minute I understood that she was taking in far more than my words.

When I shifted my weight, she noticed. When my voice softened, her ears answered it. She never once looked past me toward whatever might be happening on the other side of the barn. She was focused only on me.

A horse can rotate each ear independently up to 180 degrees using ten muscles, while compared to us, we only have three. So she was built for this kind of listening in a way we are not.

Horses are prey animals, and they have survived for a very long time by reading body language. A slight twitch of an ear, or the shift of a shoulder, long before any sound reaches them. You can't fake calm with a horse and you can't fake confidence. Horses read the version of you that is actually standing there.

As I stood there, I was thinking about how I couldn't remember the last time a human being had listened to me as intently as that, except when I'm on stage.

Then a more uncomfortable question followed right behind it: "When was the last time I had listened to someone like that myself?"

SIZING UP IS PAYING ATTENTION TOO

Both of those horses paid close attention to me that afternoon.

Stella's attention was about position. She was keenly observing where I stood, what I wanted, and whether her place in that barn was going to change simply because I had walked into it.

That is a useful skill, and it's the skill that most of us in leadership practice the hardest, because reading the room and knowing who you are dealing with feels like the job.

The second horse's attention was about me. She was not keenly observing where I stood, she was finding out who I was, and the difference was something I could feel in my own body before I had a single word for it.

Your team and those around you can feel that same difference, every day, and they can feel it within the first few seconds of every conversation.

One kind of attention leaves people feeling measured, and the other leaves them feeling seen and heard, which is what I call HUMANALITY™ — making people feel valued, cared for, seen, and heard.

I WALKED IN RECOGNIZING STELLA

I walked into that barn recognizing myself in Stella, and I walked out wanting to be Nacho.

Being like the second horse does not mean giving up your strength or pretending you are not the one responsible for the room. Stella earned my respect that afternoon. She deserved it.

My takeaway is now noticing the moment I start sizing someone up, and choosing in that moment to take them in instead, with my eyes and my posture and my full attention.

I want to be the person in front of you who focuses on the whole person, rather than the distracted one who is busy working out where they stand.

Three Things to Try This Week

1. Turn your ears. Nacho turned toward me with everything she had. In your next conversation, try turning your chair and your shoulders toward the person in front of you and put your phone somewhere that no one would see it. People decide whether you are really listening long before you say anything back.
2. Catch the stare. Notice the moment you walk into a meeting or a hallway conversation and start working out where you stand. Who has the upper hand? What is their motivation? What does this person want from you? When you catch yourself doing this, trade those questions for a better one: what does this person need from you right now?
3. Listen to the whole horse. Before you respond to someone this week, notice one thing their body is telling you that their words left out, whether that is a tired voice, a pair of crossed arms, or a smile that does not quite reach their eyes. When you do this, you will be able to respond to them instead of just answering their question.

Respect gets you a place in the barn, and listening is what makes people want to stand next to you once you are in it.

Most People Don't... But YOU Do!

Bart