TEREZUM

The Eyes of a Horse: A Journey Beyond Fear, Into the Soul

“The horse is a mirror to your soul. Sometimes you might not like what you see. Sometimes you will.” – Buck Brannaman

They say the eyes are the window to the soul, and never has that felt truer than the day I looked into the gaze of a horse named Nero. I used to believe that words were the bridge between two hearts. But life, with its subtle lessons, has taught me otherwise.

As I grew older, I learned that silence speaks. That a glance can echo louder than a monologue. That sometimes, our truest conversations are the ones never spoken aloud.

A Silent Conversation That Changed Everything

I met Nero during a time when I was determined to face a lifelong fear. You see, horses and I—we had a history I never fully understood. A childhood memory, etched in fear, painted them as dangerous. A scarred friend. A whispered warning. And so, a shadow grew.

But I made a vow to myself—2025 would be the year of courage.

When I first approached Nero, a majestic black horse with eyes as deep as night skies, I felt both terror and wonder. But then, our eyes met. And in that gaze, everything shifted.

He didn’t speak, and yet he did. I saw kindness cloaked in strength, gentleness wrapped in power. I felt… seen. Not as a rider, or a human, or a stranger—but as a soul. Vulnerable. Present.

“There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man.” – Winston Churchill

Nero could’ve crushed me with a single move. Yet there he stood, silent, still, aware. And it struck me—how often we humans use our lesser strength to inflict more harm. How often we wear masks and hold back love. Nero, in contrast, simply existed. Whole. Open.

As I rode him, the world slowed. Thoughts faded. Time dissolved. With every sway of his body beneath me, I felt a deep surrender—an invitation to be here, now. Every movement was a reminder: you are safe, you are strong, and you are alive.

Horse riding is not just a skill. It’s a soul practice. It’s learning to let go, to feel rhythm instead of control, to replace fear with presence.

The Language Without Words

That day, Nero became my teacher. In his eyes, I found lessons not even years of therapy could teach. The importance of nonverbal truth, the healing in connection, and the courage it takes to let yourself be truly seen.

So, my dear reader, I offer you a gentle challenge: When was the last time you truly spoke with someone through your eyes?

No screens. No filters. No noise. Just soul to soul.