I recently watched the 1998 film The Horse Whisperer, directed by – and starring – Robert Redford as a Montana rancher who helps an injured horse overcome PTSD. The film is a wonderful study in trauma.
The horse, Pilgrim, is hit by a tractor and suffers a horrifying injury. He is physically disfigured by wounds that become infected and are hard to heal. More significant still are his psychological injuries. Pilgrim is full of startled reactions, trembling, agitation, his eyes full of terror and his nervous system is constantly wired for danger. Now an utterly changed animal, rearing up uncontrollably if approached, it is suggested the horse be put down.
The film’s pace is slow – a reflection of the slow pace of trauma work. The horse whisperer painstakingly builds trust with Pilgrim. There is a wonderful scene when Redford simply waits, crouched down, many metres away at the edge of a field just steadily looking at him, nothing more.
The film’s other characters anxiously wonder how long recovery will take. They are tuned into different time-frames – chonological and outcome-focused. But the ‘whisperer’ repeatedly makes clear that what happens next is up to Pilgrim. He is disconnected from outcome – an important skill in trauma work. Redford’s character tolerates being unsure at the same time as remaining steadfastly peaceful and calm. He waits, he looks Pilgrim in the eye, he gains his trust, he keeps going with consistent patience. He is creative, he keeps trying things, he doesn’t give up.
In particular, he is at pains to try to understand the specific wound and pain that Pilgrim has suffered, what it felt like for Pilgrim that terrible day and why. He discovers that Pilgrim reared up in an attempt to protect his young rider from the devastating impact of the tractor. His inability to protect the child for whom he felt responsible has become an unbearably painful wound that this noble animal carried in his body and mind.
There is one amazing scene of re-enactment when Pilgrim is brought to the ground firmly in the middle of his paddock with the rider seated on his flank. It is no coincidence that it is when the horse is broken and brought low that his agitation stops. The horse whisperer, maintaining eye contact and being physically connected to the horse, does not shy away from his wounds but meets them. In this scene, time appears to take on another spatial dimension. As Pilgrim’s wounds are acknowledged and felt, there occurs what I felt was an almost mystical and physical exchange between horse and rider.
When something is deeply understood and cared for, the lightening of burdens follows. This nuanced encounter is part of a beautiful dance that changes everything, not only for Pilgrim but for the other traumatised characters in the story.
If, as I do, you work with trauma, you become familiar with these kind of moments. Getting to the essence of a wound matters, because they are all different. Moments of enlightenment come through connection, deep understanding and shared meaning. What a privilege trauma work is. If you would like to understand more about trauma and what it means to understand the wounds of others, I recommend that you watch this priceless film. Do let me know what you think!