Just about everyday in my life is with a horse. I still feed at Peace Palace just to be with them, to love on them, and to be present to my fears. When I get the chance, I head out to Friendship Stable to spend time with Cisco. And today I got some time with a 3 great gals- my Mom, Allison, and Jim's fabulous Mustang, Reba.So good to have my mom around for support and to learn about horses. And so grateful to Allison in allowing me to move slowly with Reba. We took pics today of yoga p

From the Ground Up: Yoga, Horses & Healing

Just about every day, I find myself near a horse.
I still feed at Peace Palace just to be close to them—
to love on them,
to breathe beside them,
to sit with the quiet truth of my fears.

When I can, I make my way to Friendship Stable to visit Cisco.
And today, I got time with three powerful energies:
my mom, my friend Allison, and Jim’s amazing Mustang, Reba.

It’s good to have my mom around for support,
especially as she learns more about the horse world alongside me.
I’m deeply grateful to Allison, too—she gave me space to move slowly with Reba.
We even captured some yoga postures with her—on the ground and gently on her back.

But really, this wasn’t about poses.
It was about presence.

With Reba, every step required awareness:
of her energy,
of mine,
of my breath,
and of the environment that shaped our shared moment.

Whenever I held my breath, my body would tighten—
and she would respond instantly.
Horses don't lie. They mirror you.
It’s humbling.

This practice isn't about the "perfect posture."
It’s about staying with what’s real—
being honest enough to say: I’m scared.
But I’ll breathe through it anyway.

I moved slowly. Mindfully.
Relaxing into her.
Letting my weight distribute evenly across her back.
Pressing gently into her stress points so she could release.
She got a massage. I got a stretch… and a moment of clarity.
A deep exhale in a noisy world.

Facing fear isn't glamorous.
It looks like backing off when needed.
It looks like listening.
It looks like trying again—this time softer.

Reba is patient, even-tempered, and sweet.
Jim adopted her long ago from the West,
and he taught her not to fear humans.
That alone brings tears to my eyes.

Because so often, it’s humans who fail each other.
Humans who hurt.
But then…
there are people like Mami, Allison, and Jim.
The ones who walk with you,
the ones who remind you:
you are not alone in your fear,
and you don’t have to abandon what makes your spirit feel alive.

I want to show my daughter what that looks like.

That we don’t have to lose ourselves to survive this world.
We can still choose the things that resonate with us—
even if they scare us in all the right ways.

For me, strangely enough,
it’s yoga and horses.
And right now, that feels just right.

This Spring, I’m moving forward—
with fear, with faith,
with breath, and with love.
From the ground up.