Something happened today that brought this question to mind. No. It brought something like a KNOWING to mind: that Mustangs–even those domesticated and in captivity–share what’s known as a “group mind.”
If you’ve ever watched a large school of fish swimming, or birds flying, then you know what I mean. The entire group moves as one, effortlessly, regardless of whatever twists and turns may occur on its path. This phenomenon is uncanny and mesmerizing to watch. Merriam Webster defines group mind as
the beliefs and desires common to a social group as a whole, and
a hypothetical psychic unity or collective consciousness of a group of individuals.
Since they are not a social group that has defined its beliefs and desires, it is the latter concept which seems most appropriate to apply to animals who operate as a single unit for no explained reason.
Part of the herd of wild horses at my friend Jackie Fleming’s Mustang sanctuary, Cimarron Sky Dog
If you’ve ever watched a herd of horses you know it tends to move as one too, though perhaps not quite as synchronized as the school of fish or flock of birds. And this is certainly true of bands of wild horses.
I have a Mustang mare, Bella, who I have been privileged to partner with for going on 10 years now. She was captured at eight months of age in Wyoming and adopted as a yearling by a friend of mine. She is different from our domesticated breeds, as are other wild horses, though the differences are hard to explain to anyone who has never had a wild horse. Anyone who HAS had a wild horse, or does now, will immediately understand what I mean. And those differences may show up in odd ways or be particularly pronounced at certain times. Like today.
Today Bella, along with her three pasture mates, witnessed the burial of another young wild horse on the property where she lives. She had never interrelated with this youngster directly (though one of her buddies had), but during the burial process, with the backhoe digging away for 30-45 minutes, Bella stood frozen in her paddock with her eyes trained in the direction of the interment. She could not actually see what was happening, because it was on the other side of another pen and behind a large shed, but she did not shift her focus or move her body away from what was going on the entire time. Her pasture mates were well back in the paddock, all picking at the dregs of hay on the ground, seemingly undisturbed by the proceedings–at least on a conscious level.
I had been watching the digging but chose to go stand with Bella during the last 15 minutes or so of this process. I stroked her and hugged her and tried to reassure her about this poor little fellow’s death, and she would nuzzle me briefly and let me know she wanted me to stay, while still keeping her eyes trained in the direction of the burial. She was smelling the air as well; it was clear she was able to pick up odors from the deceased that I could sense only when I was a few feet away from him.
Bella showed me that she knew quite well that the little guy was another Mustang, as she knew that his three buddies were as well. Rather than feeling out and out grief, I would say I felt from her a very sad and serious gravity that had to do with far more than the immediate unfortunate circumstance. Our conversation was all in impressions… except when she suddenly said to me,
“You have no idea how we suffer.”
Bella’s sad, worried eye when witnessing the burial of one of her tribe.
She meant her tribe. The wild horse. I felt speechless and humbled. Indeed there have been massive new roundups of Mustangs in Wyoming just these past few days. And there are almost 40,000 Mustangs in crowded BLM holding pens who will never have any hope of adoption. What has happened and is still happening to the wild horse, an American icon, is a travesty in our nation, and I realized today that in some sense the wild horse who I am honored to share my life with feels it all.
THAT was when it hit me that the wild horses share an instinctive, unconscious group mind. Even after becoming tamed and bonded with humans. They are attuned to the Oneness of their species. And I’m sure that others like Bella feel it on a conscious level too, from time to time, when the universal herd is suffering.
Bella did not flinch once or move from her post until the backhoe had left the vicinity of the burial. It was as if she was paying homage. Her eyes reflected the deep sorrow she was experiencing, and I could feel it in my own emotional body. All I could do was stand with her, and hug her heart-to-heart, and honor the pain she was holding for all those beautiful beings of her kind who are being sacrificed every year.
I know we are all ONE. Every spiritual school teaches us this. But we have wandered far from this concept and live in a world of we/they. I hope that someday–probably many lifetimes from now–our species will be able to become as attuned to one another’s suffering as the pain and sadness I witnessed today in just one individual member of the wild horse nation.
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