The Case of the Painted Horse

Do you believe in precognition or intuition? Read on for a real life and true story from my therapy practice

“I’m going to die of this you know!” She said. We had just begun our call, and all I had managed to say was, ‘Hello how are you Simone?’ “Could you tell me please, what ‘this’ is?” I asked. I have been taught well, to always ascertain specifics by world-renowned therapist, Marisa Peer.

“Well this you know! This…. The virus… It’s going to kill me. I’m not going to survive this!!!” She said in utter exasperation mingled by annoyance and incredulity at the thought that I should need to ask what ‘this’ is! “Ah…I see.” I replied.

Simone, a beautiful 40 something woman. Her silvered hair, unadorned, un-dyed…allowed to grey naturally. It fell to past her shoulders. Her face was beautiful, she was slight. But I could see pain, physical pain etched in her face and body. Her voice I noted, was good, there was strength in it I thought. In spite of what she thought, I had made my assessment of her and having asked my Inner council, I decided I would agree to work with her.

And a few more details streamed in, such as- Simone only eats 5 things in the whole world. Nothing else but these 5 things only for the last two decades. Simone has done ‘every therapy under the sun, and then some, and nothing works’ for her, on her. But the thing, even more than a life of eating only 5 things and no more in life, that pained me, was that Simone has an eight-year-old daughter. Who is now ostracised to be as far as possible from her. She was losing her temper on the fact that her daughter went to school, and came back and was ‘sitting in the living room, with her feet on the sofa’!

“Oh the germs, the germs…Isabella, can you imagine?! I told her repeatedly Not to sit there. And now my husband has to clean everything top to bottom before I can even enter. And even then I don’t know if she hasn’t brought the infection home! And we could all die!”

Yes, I could imagine. I saw the poor child, I saw the poor Mum….her fear…the husband, trying to cope. While I was speaking with her, I observed my body was gently shaking, my tummy felt off. Simone then mentioned one of her numerous symptoms was that often during the day her body would shake for no apparent reason. The doctors had found nothing in particular, but some rare peripheral conditions only. Yet she was in pain- constant. Physical and emotional. She said she literally could hear her mind whirring away. I asked if she had ever been diagnosed with any form of mental illness? She was a little offended, yet it is understandable I suppose, so she answered- No, nothing apart from panic and anxiety. Chronic anxiety. This happened right at the beginning of the Covid-19 crisis. It was March 2020. After a lengthy call, I decided to give her top priority and see her as soon as possible. The therapy session was initially filled with a lot of talk, Simone had a lot to say and express. After we finally started the session, after a few interruptions and she was finally comfortable. It was a straightforward RTT session mostly. Except for one thing.

We had just done a little induction meditation to calm down and to go into accessing the subconscious mind, when I kept seeing images of a painted horse. Very specifically a white horse, a children’s animation/painted white horse. I tried to push the image away seeing no connection. But the image persisted. So I asked her, “Simone, it’s really funny but I keep seeing this horse image in my mind. Are you fond of horses?”

She replied, “No. Not at all.” “Ah, okay.” I replied, a little disappointed perhaps. I love horses myself, perhaps that’s why.

“But I am at the moment reading a book about a horse whisperer. Yes I don’t know why I am reading this book, as I am not even fond of horses.” She said.

“Oh!” I replied, perking up. “That’s so interesting!”

She said, “Yes, it’s right here. In fact, it’s next to me, I will bring it!”

Oh No! I thought, there we go. After the one hour plus chatting even before the session, and all the interruptions before we even started, including asking somebody To be QUIET, as their voice was too loud, she opens her eyes again and jumps out of the session! I would have to do the whole process again I thought. She had reached to her right and stretched out and pulled a book, the cover of which she was showing me. It had a beautiful brown horse on it, a real horse.

“Oh wow, that’s beautiful Simone! How extraordinary! But what I saw was a white horse, and more like a child’s horse you know, like a painted horse. A small picture, how would you call it? Animated or painted, cartoon like.” I tried to explain.

“No this is a real horse.” She stated the obvious. Without much expression. We talked few more moments, she kept repeating unnecessarily, “a painted horse, nope doesn’t mean anything to me.” I said okay, and we continued.

This RTT session was to do with Anxiety, and although the Corona virus had just started, I was sure that the seeds of her anxiety, lay far before that. I was not wrong in that. Her very first scene, in a part we call ‘Detective work’ in RTT, was when she went back to a time when she was 6 years old. She was alone, and woke up in bed, felt anxious, couldn’t talk. And…couldn’t move. She was frozen. She felt her throat contract and tight- she couldn’t talk or call out for help, and she was not able to breathe properly. She was scared. We left this scene swiftly. It’s important to stress here, that we only review scenes, we do not re-live them. I asked her if she knew what led to this happening? She had no idea, no recollection of it. It was a new memory she didn’t have before.

I was more interested in understanding, what led to this happening to just a Six-year- old child? What happened? She couldn’t say, she had no recollection. So we travelled again back in time, 'daisy chaining' and doing the 'Detective Work', and this is what makes RTT so Fantastic, and unlike any other therapy.

We travelled back in time, on my request, and now we were back to the evening before this happened. She was struggling to describe what she was seeing. She said, “I see my father, just his face, and.. and..” She was stuck just looking at his face.

In that moment, an image flashed again in my mind clearly. I saw a yellowed table lamp, a rectangular table with four chairs, and a time from a few decades ago. Dinner on the table. Four people sitting- a father, mother, and two children, one of them a boy. The girl had pigtails.

I said, “Look around you, what do you see?” She said, “I see nothing. Just my father’s face.”

I said, “Look again, what do you see, where are you sitting, who else is around you?” “Oh I see now, we are at the dinner table! And I see my brother and my mother. And I am sobbing, oh God I’m just crying and crying and crying!” She burst into uncontrollable tears.

I comforted her and encouraged her, and when she was ready, she continued. “Oh my brother, I cannot stand his chewing, it’s so loud! My brother is driving me crazy with his chewing!” I took this in, remembering her sensitivity to voices even now. “What else is happening?” I asked. “Oh I’m just crying and crying and crying, and my Dad is shouting and shouting and shouting at me.” “What’s you mother doing?” I asked.

“Oh she’s saying nothing.” “What’s your father saying, what is the anger about?” I asked.

She stopped crying, and listened, “Oh he’s so angry at me and he says I may not have it! I cannot have it. My brother and I were fighting about ‘it’. That’s why he got angry!” Again I had to ask for specifics, “What is ‘it’ Simone? What are you fighting about, what is he angry at you for?”

“Oh I don’t know!” She replied in anger and frustration at my irrelevant interjection.

Then she paused abruptly.

“Oh.” She said. I looked up from my notes to look at her face. The cheeks softened by tears, that silver hair framing her face. The hair was not smooth, but beautiful with its texture. She has no idea how beautiful she is I thought. I waited. “Now I get it.” She said. I waited, “Go on.” I encouraged her.

“The painted horse.” She paused. “A child’s white painted horse.” I was staring at her, held my breath for a moment. “We were fighting because I wanted that placemat… With the white painted horse. Just like, you described… My brother and I were fighting over that.”

The End

Epilogue: Simone had an amazing recovery after our session. She felt immediately more positive. This feeling was sustained. She decided to follow her childhood passion in music, she immediately composed a song, and created a video which she made for it herself and even shared this with the public. Something she hadn’t done for decades. She immersed herself in a life following her dreams. Last I heard, she is doing Very Well, and does not need any more help with the anxiety.

*Names and locations have been changed for anonymity. All other details true.

#isabellaivorytherapy #therapy #intuitive

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