The Guardian’s fashion editor heads to the stables to find out whether the tranquility of horses can help slow her busy life
One cold, bright morning in January, I stood in a field in Gloucestershire with my eyes closed and imagined I had four legs. Just metres away was a herd of eight horses. Before meeting them, advised therapist Lisanne Peters, it was wise to meditate. First, she told me to focus on sensations – the smell of hay; the birdsong. Then she instructed me to imagine myself, centaur-like, “with another back and another set of legs behind you. Feel how sturdy, how grounded, you are.”
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