Last week, 16 people came together here at Leading Edge professional Development for five days of learning, experiencing, questioning, practising and growing.

But what stayed with me most wasn’t simply what we learned.

It was how everyone showed up.

For the first three days, our newest Equine Connection equine assisted learning facilitators had the opportunity to move from theory into experience – to step into the programs they had been studying and experience them for themselves.

Because there is a significant difference between understanding something intellectually and experiencing it in your body.

The horses have a remarkable way of making that distinction visible.

The final two days took us deeper, with advanced facilitator training focused on one of the most important – and sometimes confronting – aspects of this work: ourselves.

Our energy. Our intention. Our awareness. Our ability to regulate ourselves and remain present. The subtle ways we influence the horse in front of us – and, in turn, the people we are facilitating.

It requires a willingness to notice ourselves before looking to the horse for an explanation.

And that takes courage.

Across the five days, I watched people really show up. They stepped into the unfamiliar with openness, curiosity and vulnerability. They experimented. They made mistakes. They asked questions. They supported one another. They laughed. They reflected. And they were willing to challenge what they thought they knew.

For me, that is what genuine learning looks like.

We don’t grow in isolation

One of the greatest gifts of this work has been discovering a community of people who share similar core values, while remaining willing to question convention and challenge traditions that may no longer serve the horse, the participant or the integrity of the work.

There is something incredibly powerful about finding people who are not interested in defending the way things have always been done, but instead keep asking:

Is there another way?

What is the horse telling us?

What are we bringing into this interaction?

How can we do this with greater awareness, compassion and respect?

Finding that community feels a little like finding home.

And our training last week reminded me that none of us develops our practice alone.

Our work has been shaped enormously by Kari Fulmek and Carolyn Charles at Equine Connection, whose programs provide the foundation for our facilitator training and whose commitment to continuing to learn and evolve has deeply influenced our own.

We have learned from Chris Irwin of Mind Your Horse, whose work has expanded our understanding of how our energy, positioning and communication affect the horse.

Leah Dyck of Equus Empowered has also generously shared her knowledge and experience, contributing another perspective to the way we think about horses, humans and facilitation.

That matters to acknowledge.

Because knowledge has a lineage.

Ideas are shared, questioned, tested, adapted and built upon. One person’s curiosity creates the possibility for someone else’s discovery.

Staying curious

Perhaps one of the greatest risks in becoming experienced at something is beginning to believe we already know.

The more time I spend with horses and people, the more convinced I become that expertise isn’t about reaching a point where there is nothing left to learn.

It is about developing the confidence to keep learning.

To remain curious.

To notice more.

To question our assumptions.

To listen to perspectives that challenge our own.

To have enough humility to change our minds when new knowledge or experience asks us to.

And to recognise that experience and learning are not competing sources of wisdom. They strengthen one another. Theory gives us frameworks through which to understand our experiences, while experience tests, deepens and sometimes challenges what we think we know.

The horses are extraordinary teachers in this regard because they continually bring us back to what is actually happening, rather than what we expected to happen.

Community makes us better

There was something very special about watching 16 people learn together last week.

Different backgrounds. Different levels of experience. Different questions and observations.

But a shared willingness to be curious.

People encouraged one another without needing to have all the answers. They challenged ideas respectfully. They celebrated breakthroughs. And they created the psychological safety for others to experiment, get things wrong and try again.

That is the kind of community I want to be part of.

One where knowledge is generously shared rather than guarded.

Where experience is valued but never used as a reason to stop questioning.

Where we can respect those who came before us while still challenging practices that no longer serve.

Where the welfare, agency and dignity of the horse remain central to the work.

And where becoming better facilitators begins with becoming more aware human beings.

To the 16 people who stepped into that space last week: thank you for really showing up.

And to the teachers, colleagues, practitioners and horses who continue to influence, challenge and inspire our work — whether we have worked alongside you, learned directly from you or simply followed your work from afar — thank you.

We are better because we learn from one another.

And perhaps that is one of the most important lessons of all:

None of us needs to have all the answers. But we do need to remain curious enough to keep asking better questions — and open enough to learn from the community around us.

We can teach leadership knowledge.
But leadership wisdom has to be experienced.

I was struck by this distinction from the Center for Creative Leadership between knowledge transfer and wisdom transfer.

Knowledge gives leaders the models, frameworks, research and best practice. It helps us understand what should happen.

Wisdom prepares us for what actually happens.

And leadership rarely unfolds according to the playbook.

It happens when the situation is ambiguous. When people respond differently from how we expected. When our carefully considered strategy meets emotion, resistance, uncertainty or change. When we need to read what is happening around us and adjust – often in the moment.

This is one of the reasons I believe so deeply in experiential leadership development with horses.

We use the TeachingHorse Diamond Model of Shared Leadership (TM), which develops four interconnected leadership capabilities:

Attention – can I notice what is happening in myself, in others and in the environment around me?

Direction – am I clear about where we are going, while remaining responsive to what is emerging?

Energy – am I bringing the appropriate amount and quality of energy for this person, this moment and this situation?

Congruence – are my intention, emotions, body language and actions aligned? Am I communicating what I think I am communicating?

We can explain all four in a classroom.

But put a leader alongside a horse and suddenly they have the opportunity to experience them.

The horse doesn’t know the leader’s title, qualifications or intentions. It responds to what is actually happening in the interaction.

A leader may believe they are being clear, yet the horse remains still.

They may increase their energy when what is actually needed is greater clarity.

They may become so focused on the goal that they stop noticing what is happening around them.

Or they may discover that the moment they regulate themselves, become clearer in their direction and align their energy with their intention, something shifts.

That is where knowledge begins to become wisdom.

Not because the horse gives us the answer, but because the experience gives us immediate feedback and something real to reflect upon.

And perhaps this is what preparing leaders for reality increasingly requires.

Not simply knowing more leadership models, but developing the self-awareness, adaptability and judgement to know what this moment is asking of me — and having the capacity to respond accordingly.

Knowledge gives us something to draw upon.

Experience gives us something to learn from.

Reflection helps turn both into wisdom.

One of the things I’ve become increasingly aware of over the years is that true expertise comes from the combination of experience, learning and curiosity.

Experience gives us wisdom. It allows us to recognise patterns, build intuition and develop the confidence that only comes from doing the work. But experience is most powerful when it is paired with a willingness to keep learning, to remain curious, and to continually challenge our own thinking.

This is especially true in Equine Assisted Leadership.

Working with horses is not simply about loving horses or spending time around them. It requires a deep understanding of equine behaviour, herd dynamics, learning theory, leadership, coaching, facilitation and human psychology. Every interaction with a horse and every client adds another layer to that understanding.

Leading Edge Professional Development was established more than a decade ago, and our work today has evolved enormously. Not because our purpose has changed, but because our experience has grown and our commitment to learning has never stopped.

Over the years we’ve invested in formal qualifications, international training, research and, just as importantly, thousands of hours working alongside both horses and leaders. Every client, every horse and every program has taught us something valuable.

I’ve had the privilege of learning from exceptional teachers in Australia and internationally, particularly through my work with TeachingHorse in the United States, where I’ve continued to deepen my understanding of equine communication, shared leadership and herd dynamics. Those learnings continue to shape and strengthen the work we do here in Australia.

We’re also proud to be the Australia and New Zealand Train-the-Trainers for Equine Connection, an organisation that shares our belief that professional excellence comes through continuous development. Together, our commitment to ongoing education, evidence-informed practice and hands-on experience ensures we’re helping lead the advancement of Equine Assisted Learning in this part of the world.

For me, expertise isn’t about arriving at a point where you know everything.

It’s about combining years of experience with the humility to remain a student.

The best professionals in any field continue to ask questions. They seek new perspectives. They refine their craft. They never stop learning.

Our clients place enormous trust in us. I believe that trust comes with a responsibility to never stop learning.

I recently had the privilege of spending two days in Broome, Western Australia, with Professor Juli Coffin and the team from Yawardani Jan-ga, an equine assisted learning program supporting Aboriginal young people across the Kimberley.

To say I was inspired would be an understatement.

Like many Australians, I have read the statistics. I know that the Kimberley continues to face some of the highest rates of youth suicide and social and emotional wellbeing challenges in the country. But statistics can sometimes distance us from the human stories behind them.

What I witnessed over those two days was something very different.

I was invited to observe a session with a group of boys on one day and a group of girls on the next. These were not young people defined by disadvantage, trauma or labels. They were young people being given an opportunity to discover their own strengths through the honest and non-judgemental feedback of horses.

The activities were simple on the surface.

Working with a horse and a partner, they were tasked with walking through an obstacle course. To achieve this they needed to build connection, communicate clearly, provide direction, establish boundaries, use appropriate energy and remain aware of their surroundings. They needed to pay attention to themselves, to each other and to the horse.

Yet beneath these seemingly simple tasks, something profound was happening.

I watched young people collaborate.

I watched them problem solve.

I watched them laugh.

I watched them support one another.

I watched confidence emerge.

I watched leadership emerge.

Most importantly, I watched young people succeed.

The horses didn’t care about status, background, academic achievement or personal history. They simply responded to what was happening in the present moment. The young people quickly learned that connection mattered, communication mattered, consistency mattered and that how they showed up influenced the outcome.

As someone who has spent many years facilitating equine assisted leadership programs, the principles were very familiar. But seeing them delivered through a culturally secure program designed specifically for Aboriginal young people added another layer of meaning entirely.

Yawardani Jan-ga, which means “horses helping” in the Yawuru language, was developed by Professor Juli Coffin in response to community concerns about the social and emotional wellbeing of Aboriginal young people in the Kimberley. The program works with horses as partners in learning, healing and personal growth, creating opportunities for young people to develop healthy relationships, coping skills, confidence and connection.

What struck me most was the atmosphere.

There was joy.

There was pride.

There was belonging.

There was no judgement.

The horses met each young person exactly where they were.

As I stood quietly watching, I couldn’t help but think about the power of prevention. So much of our attention is understandably focused on responding when young people are in crisis. Programs like Yawardani Jan-ga remind us of the importance of creating spaces where young people can build self-belief, emotional awareness, connection and hope before crisis takes hold.

I left Broome feeling grateful.

Grateful to Juli for her vision, courage and relentless commitment to creating something different. Grateful to the practitioners and horses who show up every day to do this work. And grateful to the young people who allowed me to witness their journeys, even briefly.

Sometimes we talk about changing lives as though it requires grand gestures. What I saw in Broome reminded me that sometimes change begins with something much simpler.

A horse.

A safe space.

A genuine connection.

And someone who believes you matter.

Those two days will stay with me forever.