I’m not particularly fond of horses. I took a riding lesson once as a kid, and while walking the horse to the ring, it stepped on my foot and refused to move for a good five minutes. “Horses have a unique ability to heal,” said the equine therapist, a stout woman with a thick straw-colored braid, once we’d all arrived in the stable. Several horses trotted by, raising their tails and kicking up dirt. The place felt more like an oversized playpen than an actual barn. “Today, you’re going to work together to bridle Misty here.” Misty snapped her tail and some flies scattered. A glob of drool fell from her mouth.

Alex took charge and started mapping out distances: the length between Misty’s mouth and her back, the width between the bit pieces and the reins. Greg rubbed her snout and talked to her. Molly dusted off the saddle and wiped down her coat with a wet sponge she’d found in a bucket. I stood off to the side, wondering how petting a horse would benefit us in any way, and if the others were actually buying into it. It seemed so, given how pleased they were with their creative solutions, the herd of independent minds. Once Misty was all dolled up in her bridle, the therapist instructed us to sit on the log bench so we could discuss the activity. She paced back and forth like a drill sergeant. “Give yourselves a pat on the back,” she said to us. “You all did an excellent job.” Alex reached out for a high five, which she met with a heavy smack. Greg even tapped his own shoulder like an idiot. “Except for you,” she said to me. “You just kind of checked out and wandered off.”

I felt immediately compelled to defend myself. “I was still paying attention,” I said, “but my group seemed to have it under control.”

“Ah, so you’re a freeloader?”

“I’m just saying they didn’t need any more help, and I only like to do what’s necessary.”

“Uh-huh,” she said. “Well, how do you know what’s necessary, what you might be missing, unless you try it?”

But that was precisely my issue: wanting to try everything, and everyone. “I guess I don’t,” I said.

Next, she asked us to pick a horse and observe it. “What do you mean by observe it?” Molly asked.

“Whatever you want that to mean,” she said, throwing her hands up in the air, as if the thought of what we might come up with could be that exciting. “You can observe it up close, or from afar, or however you want.”