Raising Your Energy (Taking Up Space)
"Raise your energy."
It’s a phrase you might have heard before, but for me, it is a concept I have found deeply rooted in the horse world. Like so many lessons I have learned with the horses, it applies to life as well.
What does it actually mean? Imagine you are in an open field and a horse is galloping straight toward you. For whatever reason, you cannot move—running isn’t an option. What do you do? You raise your energy. You become bigger, stronger, and more substantial. You take up more space without moving an inch from your footprint.
If that feels too abstract, imagine you are in that same field but standing in front of a small child. You are the only thing between that child and the galloping horse. What does that feel like in your body? That internal shift—the projection of an invisible force field that stretches out beyond your skin—that is raising your energy.
Take this morning, for instance. As the horses were being led out to graze in the estuary, one of them noticed a stash of fresh alfalfa in the back of the pickup truck. He decided to ditch the plan and "graze" from the truck instead. As I walked by, I tried to "shush" him toward the gate. He ignored me completely. I upped the ante, waving my hands and shushing louder. Still, nothing. I put more of my body behind the gestures, and he moved just far enough to escape the annoyance before returning to the alfalfa.
Finally, I picked up a large stick. In learning this skill, it’s often helpful to have a "prop." To be clear, the prop is never used to hit the horse; it is simply an extension of your physical presence. With the stick in hand, I raised my energy and shushed him again. This time, he realized I meant business. He left the truck and headed for the gate.
A more proficient horseman, like Mark Rashid, likely wouldn’t have needed three attempts or a stick. Even young children can have a natural knack for it. Eight-year-old Carlitos, who helps out at the ranch, can walk through the corral and move the horses simply with his presence. It’s incredible to watch. He isn’t "trying" to move the horses necessarily; it is just the strength of his energy projecting outward from him—and often he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. I’ve pointed it out to him so he can begin to recognize and work with that power. But for many of us, raising energy isn’t a natural gift; it’s a muscle we have to train. It’s something we have to practice.
The challenge is that many of us conflate "raising energy" with being mean or getting mad. We don’t know how to project authority without attaching it to a negative emotion. We feel that to be heard, we must yell; to be effective, we must be aggressive.
I see this frequently when taking people riding, especially women. It manifests as a certain directionlessness—the rider goes wherever the horse leads, looking a bit like a "drunken sailor." The horse wanders into bushes or checks out mentally. When I tell the rider to "take the reins" or give a firm signal with their heel, the response is almost always, "Oh, I don’t want to be mean."
But by trying not to be "mean," they are actually being confusing.
I often use that same analogy—imagine there is a small child about to be hit by an oncoming car—feel the energy of swooping in to save the child. That power, that decisiveness, that intentionality—that is what you are looking for—without the extreme situation to cause it.
There is a clarity in raised energy. It is about intentionality and decisiveness. Our attempts to "not be mean" often collapse into an ambiguous indecisiveness that is actually quite stressful for the horse. They crave a leader who knows the way.
This is just as true in the human world. Do you feel like you have to scream just to be heard? Do you find yourself shrinking, taking up as little space as possible? Perhaps this is a response to those who take up too much space (“I don’t want to be like that.”), or perhaps it hasn't always been safe to be noticed. Staying small can often be a self-protective mechanism that we pick up along the way.
However, as Marianne Williamson famously noted, playing small does not serve the world. Taking up space doesn't mean you have to become a bull in a china shop—it means you become an active participant in your own life. Learning to raise your energy without anger is a skill of liberation. When we stop shrinking so that others won't feel insecure or threatened, we aren't being "mean"—we are being clear. And in that clarity, we give everyone around us permission to stand tall, too.
If you’re interested in exploring how to "take the reins" in your own life, join us for our monthly workshop. We gather to practice the skills of presence and intentionality, learning together how to move through the world with a bit more clarity and a lot less fear.
