It’s hard to stand still when a 1,000-pound horse is galloping straight toward you —snorting, pounding her hoofs, white mane flying.

“I should get out of the way,” I remember thinking. But which way? If I stepped right and the horse veered in that direction, I might get trampled. Same thing if I stepped left. I barely had time to think or breathe.

I looked at the white mare as she came closer, our eyes met, and I sensed a message: “Be still.”

The Fire Horse journey

Morita missed me by inches, narrowly avoiding another woman before galloping to the far side of the arena. I exhaled in relief.

Earlier that afternoon, on a hot, sunny Tuesday in February, 12 women convened at Rancho Baile de la Luna near San Miguel de Allende, joining Chris, the ranch owner and avid horsewoman, and Amy, instructor and horse whisperer, to celebrate the rare Chinese zodiac year of the Fire Horse. We ranged in age from our 20s to our 70s and shared a passion for horses.

Each of us had unique reasons for joining this celebration. I looked forward to hanging around the ranch with women friends. Loftier motives prompted many of the other women: releasing old habits and making a fresh start in the new lunar year.

Dressed in cowgirl attire and yoga clothes (yes, there would be yoga), we introduced ourselves, sharing a word summarizing our current mindset.

Greeting the lunar new year

“Grateful,” “joyful,” “safe” and “peaceful” were among the words we offered one by one. “Escape,” someone said, and we chuckled because, in a way, we were all escaping our daily routines to share rituals and fun here at the ranch — and perhaps more.

Before meeting, a few participants had posted affirmations in our WhatsApp group, inviting us to choose courage, act with integrity and welcome abundance during the year of the Fire Horse.

To me, the messages sounded a little woo-woo. Personally, I tend to be more practical, keeping my boots on the ground. That said, I’ve always admired women who are in touch with their inner wisdom. I’m still looking for mine.

I was here more out of curiosity than anything else. I knew there would be horses, yoga, snacks, a bonfire, some laughs and plenty of camaraderie. Maybe I’d pick up some wisdom too, if I was lucky.

An actual fire

After our introductions, we settled onto our yoga mats near the arena. I closed my eyes, letting myself luxuriate in the poses, and tried to relax, given the extenuating circumstances. Coincidentally (or not), an actual fire was raging in the desert-dry countryside not far from Chris’s ranch. Loud crackles and pops were competing with Amy’s yoga instructions.

“Sounds like really loud bacon frying,” someone said as black smoke billowed and bright-orange flames taller than the trees licked the sky.

One gal climbed on the cement wall separating the ranch from the fire to watch its progress. The rest of us tried not to think about it (“Snap, pop, crackle”) as we focused on our yoga practice and the ensuing meditation Chris read while we lay in shavasana. It’s safe to say we weren’t very relaxed, knowing this fire was heading our way.

We weren’t the only ones.

As we paused for snacks and refreshing hibiscus water après yoga, someone saw flashing lights. Hurray! The fire brigade arrived to ensure the fire didn’t spread to Chris’s ranch, as well as nearby homes and farms. Soon, the flames began to diminish as the fire reached a dry riverbed and could advance no further. Peace and quiet ensued.

Emotions intensify

The timing of the fire on this fortuitous first day of the year of the Fire Horse wasn’t lost on any of us, of course. As we walked up the hill to the arena, we laughed about this strange
coincidence, most of us still carrying an extra dose of energy and anxiety — our own fire within.

For the next part of the celebration, we would commune with six or seven of Chris’ horses, who were roaming freely inside the arena. (“Be honest,” Chris said, “and the horses will respond with curiosity and peacefulness.”) As we passed through the gate, each of us chose an affirmation card and then formed a large circle with four or five feet separating us.

Next, we read our cards aloud. They contained empowering statements — sort of like you’d find in fortune cookies, I thought. Mine was “Obstacles are detours in the right direction.” I considered a few of the obstacles I’d encountered lately, wondering whether the detours they’d precipitated led to better outcomes.

As we read our cards, Amy walked around the circle with a bundle of sage and “smudged” us individually with the smoke, clearing stagnant energy and making room for the energy of the Fire Horse.

An uncomfortable moment

Speaking of horses, a few began to walk in and out of the circle, sometimes pausing for a second or two. A couple of them trotted around the arena, and occasionally a small scuffle broke out among moody mares. Chris was a little concerned about the more active horses and asked if anyone felt uncomfortable.

That’s when Morita (aka the “Fire Horse”) came galloping straight toward our circle.

Once Chris realized everyone was safe, she caught Morita and decided to tie her up at the top of the driveway outside the arena. Clearly, the wildfire had made the horses nervous. As Chris led Morita up the driveway, the remaining horses became very active. Communing with our four-legged friends would not be possible, we realized — too much fire energy in them and now in all of us.

Jeff, Chris’s husband, suggested we head over to the fire pit at one end of the arena while Chris tied up Morita and Amy helped her secure the remaining horses.

A strange and disturbing episode

As we gathered around the fire pit, sitting on old wooden chairs and hay bales draped with colorful Mexican blankets, Jeff shared something he’d learned at a recent clinic about dealing with emotions when working with horses.

“Give your emotion a number from one to 10,” he said, “and then visualize that number going down as you breathe and relax and decompress.”

Suddenly, a mare named Amiga began squealing. When I looked across the arena, I saw the front half of the horse atop a concrete wall as she scrambled to pull the rest of her body up and onto the driveway in a desperate attempt to join her friend, Morita.

We watched helplessly as Amiga squealed in pain before managing to pull herself up with her forelegs, leaving behind tufts of hair on the concrete wall. Chris took Amiga to the barn to tend to her wounds, mostly superficial, thankfully. Amy and Jeff continued fetching horses and tying them up before another one got a crazy notion to jump out of the arena or randomly gallop toward us humans.

The carefully curated agenda Chris and Amy had crafted for this ceremony, celebrating the year of the Fire Horse, was apparently never meant to be. Obstacles had appeared unexpectedly throughout the afternoon. We sat around the firepit trying to process a range of emotions — fear, turmoil, anxiety, and concern for Amiga’s well-being — as the sun sank, warming us with late-afternoon rays.

A woo-woo moment

Then something unexpected happened — you could even call it woo-woo. As we sat around the firepit with Chris, while Amy and Jeff tended to the horses, the spirit of the Fire Horse moved us to pick up where Jeff had left off and to talk about our emotions. We shared how we were feeling, even giving numbers to our emotional states, which, due to the turbulent events of the afternoon, were in a state of flux.

Somehow, the raw emotions we were feeling, the fires that were burning just below the surface in all of us, allowed us to peel back layers and share our feelings openly. It was as if the fire had burned away our reticence and allowed us to scramble onto a higher level, much like Amiga had pulled herself onto her feet, finally, instead of staying stuck, half in and half out of where she had been.

Morita, the Fire Horse, showed us how to blaze a new trail into the new year, not with baby steps but instead galloping, thundering, raging like a fire into the next place we need to be.

The obstacles that presented themselves to us that day became part of the journey, leading us in the direction we were meant to go.

To be still

I thought back to the moment when Morita was running straight toward me, when I sensed the message to be still. I knew that moment was testing my courage and also reminding me that slowing down and being present helps us discover some of life’s most powerful lessons, including those brought on the back of a Fire Horse.

As I hugged these wonderful women before we went our separate ways, I could feel the energy of the Fire Horse still racing through my veins. Was it woo-woo? Inner wisdom? All I know is that the smiles and warmth and honesty we shared that day brought us all to a place of courage, integrity and abundance. I’m looking forward to what the new year brings.

For more information: The Spirit Horse Journey is an ongoing series of immersive equine wisdom experiences held throughout the year at Rancho Baile de La Luna near San Miguel de Allende. Each journey stands on its own while also weaving into the larger arc of the Year of the Fire Horse — a time of movement, courage, balance and inner truth. Reserve early — spaces are intentionally limited.

Peggy Sijswerda is a freelance writer who divides her time between San Miguel de Allende and the Netherlands. She writes about travel, food, culture and wellness, and is the author of “Still Life with Sierra,” a travel memoir. Find her on Substack at @peggysijswerda.