Some people carry a galloping quality: ideas move quickly, imagination travels, and enthusiasm races toward what feels alive. When that energy was repeatedly met with “No, no, no,” the adult system may become extraordinarily good at stopping.
The stopping can look like maturity. Underneath, a powerful part of us may still be tied to the post.
Creative Energy Was Not Necessarily Reckless
A child absorbed in an imaginative world can appear distracted to people focused on the approved conversation. A spontaneous interest can be labeled impulsive because adults are anxious about where it might lead.
Sometimes restraint was necessary. We all need to learn about cliffs, consequences, timing, and other people. But repeated domestication can teach a broader rule: pleasure is lower priority, your inner world is not valuable, and movement itself gets you in trouble.
Later, even a thoughtful change activates the old command to stop.
Safety Can Include Movement
The alternative is not to gallop blindly. A skilled rider checks the saddle, notices the terrain, and listens to the horse. There are many speeds between being tied up and racing toward a cliff.
We can ask:
- Is the danger real, remembered, or socially inherited?
- What part of this desire is genuinely alive?
- Which preparation would make movement wiser?
- Do I want to gallop, canter, trot, or mosey?
- How will I rest and reassess along the way?
“No” offers only a stop. A direction gives creative energy something safe to organize around.
Tapping: The Horse Wants to Move
Side of the Hand: Even though my creative energy was repeatedly told no, I understand why my primitive brain learned to hold the reins so tightly.
Even though part of me fears I will get in trouble if I follow what feels alive, I can distinguish imagination from self-destruction.
Even though I do not want to gallop over a cliff, I am open to movement with awareness, preparation, and choice.
Top of the Head: No, no, no.
Eyebrow: Do something more important.
Side of the Eye: Stop enjoying your own world.
Under the Eye: They trained that into me.
Under the Nose: Thank you, primitive brain, for helping me fit in.
Chin: We needed some brakes.
Collarbone: We did not need to lose the horse.
Under the Arm: I am ready to reclaim healthy movement.
Top of the Head: The saddle can be secure.
Eyebrow: I can scope out the terrain.
Side of the Eye: I can choose the pace.
Under the Eye: I can mosey when galloping is too much.
Under the Nose: I can gallop in imagination.
Chin: My pleasure carries information.
Collarbone: Safety and aliveness can travel together.
Under the Arm: I give this energy a conscious direction.
Take a breath. Picture the creative part of you as an animal that wants movement. What pace and path would feel right today?
Invite the Primitive Brain Along
Demanding that the protective system “just let go” can reproduce the same force that domesticated us. Listening creates cooperation.
Ask what feels unsafe. Tighten the saddle. Gather the information. Then say clearly what you are choosing: “We are exploring this,” “We have decided to move,” or “Today we are taking one small ride.”
The protective response may return. It often wants reassurance that it has not been abandoned. We can listen again without handing it the power to stop every journey.
The goal is not permanent speed. It is access—to rest, curiosity, wise restraint, and the gallop that still belongs to us.
Session Audio
This Guide was adapted from a Thriving Now session with Rick Wilkes and Cathy Vartuli, recorded June 30, 2015. The transcript was generated automatically and may contain errors.