Tag: Animals

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The Horse who Joined the Conversation

Three months ago, I unexpectedly entered into a relationship with a horse.

I met Zor during a visit to Liberty Stables in Florida, where I had gone to spend time with a friend’s horses. I had no particular expectations. I have no background with horses, no training, and no experience in equine-assisted therapy. I simply met this magnificent Friesian, and something quietly familiar unfolded between us.

I fell in love.

Not in the dramatic way we sometimes use that phrase, but in the quiet recognition of feeling unexpectedly at home in the presence of another living being.

When I returned a few months later, I wondered whether he would remember me.
He did.

I have found a deep contentment in being with Zor. Grooming him in his stall. Massaging his neck and shoulders. Singing softly while he lowered his great head to graze. Standing beside him without needing anything from him. I have never asked Zor to attend to me, carry me, or teach me. His quiet companionship has awakened something joyful in me. That has been enough for me.

One afternoon, I carried my chair into the pasture and placed it beneath the shade of a tree.

It was one of those Florida afternoons where the heat seems to shimmer above the grass. The horses grazed quietly under an endless blue sky. I settled into my chair, content to watch the horses, listen to the birds, and perhaps take a nap. As I entered the pasture, Zor lifted his head and followed me with his eyes. Once I was seated beneath the tree, he returned to grazing.

For a long while I simply sat. My body softened. My mind became quiet. My eyes sometimes closed as I listened to the song of nature. 

After a while I noticed that Zor had slowly changed position. He moved in a gentle arc that gradually brought him closer.

Having heard stories about the way he sometimes greeted people, I stood and stepped in front of him to say hello. I preferred not to discover what happens when a two-thousand-pound horse decides to make his presence known by tipping over my chair.

Once met, he returned to grazing.

I remained beneath the tree to have my scheduled phone session with a client. It had been a rough week. Testing revealed that the tumors in her body had grown.

As painful as the diagnosis itself was the experience of trying to receive care. Tests were delayed. Decisions postponed. Phone calls unanswered. She wasn’t simply carrying cancer. She was carrying the exhaustion of trying to find her way through a medical system that seemed unable to meet her with clarity or care.

“I'd like to place my hand on this beautiful horse's heart while we talk,” I said.

 

The phone in my back pocket, an AirPod in one ear, one hand rested on my heart, and the other rested on his.

Quietly, in my own awareness, I introduced them and returned to listening. Zor continued grazing as we moved together across the pasture.

Eventually he wandered beneath a small tree, stopped grazing, and looked directly at me.

For the remainder of our conversation, I stroked his face while listening to this lovely woman navigate this challenging season of her life.

In time, something softened. Her voice became lighter as we moved from frustration toward the next small steps before her. Zor remained completely still beneath my hand. No one hurried the conversation.

This exchange included two humans, a horse, birdsong, the warm sun, and a gentle breeze. Everything belonged.

Toward the end of our conversation, Zor lifted his head, gave a great snort, and calmly returned to grazing. My client heard it through the phone. She laughed, as did I. “I think we’re complete,” she said. Reminding me how her dog always knew our conversation was ending a few minutes before we said goodbye.

“Please thank that horse for me.”

I returned to my chair beneath the tree and closed my eyes. For a long moment I simply rested in that experience.

There is no miraculous ending to this story.

I don’t know whether that afternoon changed her treatment, her health, or even her day. I don’t need to know. I only know that I was part of something beautiful.

A woman seeking healing.
A horse quietly grazing.
One hand resting on my own heart.
The other resting on his.

Three hearts participating in the same quiet field of presence.

 

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

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I Met A Duck in the Street

Last week, I left the house a little earlier than usual.

Not because the day ahead was spacious. Quite the opposite. It was full. Appointments, responsibilities, errands to run, bags still to pack for my upcoming conference. One of those days where the hours already seem spoken for before they even begin.

And yet, before leaving, I found myself lingering in the garden.

The overgrown bushes had finally been removed, opening up an entire section of the bed I hadn’t really seen clearly in years. New flowers and shrubs had recently been planted, and I stood there for a few moments appreciating the fresh openness of it all. The morning light and the possibility of adding a few colorful blossoms. The beauty of something being tended and made new.

Then I glanced at the clock. My appointment was in fifteen minutes, and I had fourteen minutes to get there. So I got moving.

As I rounded the final curve on my street, I suddenly noticed a small mallard duck standing directly in the middle of the road.

Not hurrying. Not startled. Just standing there as though the morning belonged entirely to him.

I pulled alongside him and lowered the window. “Buddy,” I said aloud, “this is probably not the safest place to be.”

His green head shimmered in the sunlight, absolutely beautiful. He looked directly at me and quacked back as though we were genuinely having a conversation. Then, instead of moving away, he took a few small steps closer to the car and lifted his head.

No urgency. No concern.

No indication whatsoever that he intended to leave his chosen spot in the curve.

I remember laughing softly to myself as I realized I was not, in fact, in charge of this duck’s life.

 

So after a short, delightful conversation about the nature of life, I slowly drove on with a quiet little prayer that he would stay safe and that the drivers behind me would be paying attention in the early morning light.

Then, just as I checked my rearview mirror, I saw another duck fly low across the street behind me.

And there he went. He lifted gracefully into the air and followed her. He wasn’t stranded in the road at all. He was simply waiting for his gal.

By the time I reached the main road, something inside me had softened.

The fountains in the pond shimmered beside the street. The sky was a brilliant blue. The morning felt unexpectedly alive and intimate somehow, as though Life had quietly reached out and tapped me on the shoulder before the fullness of the day began.

Nothing dramatic happened.

Just a few moments of direct contact with a living world that is constantly speaking, responding, moving, relating. And somehow, it was exactly what I needed.

A reminder that life is not only schedules and tasks and moving efficiently from one obligation to the next.

It is also beauty. Pausing in stillness and appreciation. Being in relationship. Enjoying small unexpected encounters. Belonging.

It is the recognition that the world cares well for itself without my intervention.

And the beneficial pleasure of realizing this when I am willing to slow down enough to notice.

Just a note …. no mallard ducks were harmed in the encounter nor in the use of AI who conveniently recreated the scene for your imaginal pleasure. 

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

HeartWarming

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Studies show that even brief encounters with nature can reduce stress, support emotional wellbeing, improve attention, and promote feelings of connection. A slower pace allows the body to settle, the mind to clear, and life’s simple beauty to nourish you. Why not add a 5 minutes in the natural world without your phone or any conversation. Take a slow stroll, sit and gaze around you, and open your senses. Breathe and discover what arises without any goal. Your whole being will thank you. 

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A Horse Bumped My Heart

I’ve always had a distant relationship with horses.

I once rode the pony a friend cared for at a local barn when I was a pre-teen. I’ve done a few trail rides, including what felt like a few death-defying adventures in the Colorado Rockies. I even calmly steered my horse back onto the trail after she reared and raced down a small forest hill.

It was a natural instinct. After all, I’ve watched enough television to witness experienced equestrians deftly managing rearing horses.

Beyond admiring the beauty of horses, especially those running free, I’ve never had any interest in spending time with them. I admired my friends who cared for horses, offered equine-assisted therapy, and even rode into their forest wedding ceremony on their horses with a miniature “flower horse.”

When friends at Liberty Stables in Florida invited me to visit with their three horses, I was eager to witness their new project, which has brought much joy to their lives. Visiting the horses was part of my interest, but mostly it was my relationship with the humans that warmed my heart.

My ambivalence lifted with my first surprising meeting with Zor, a gorgeous Friesian horse who stands between 17 and 18 hands tall.

On a snowy day in New Jersey, I took a break in my comfy chair. Closing my eyes, I noticed the replay of a short “movie” I’d seen of Zor dancing with his previous trainer. He was magnificent, and the fluid interaction between horse and human was like a ballet that moved me deeply.

Suddenly, I saw Zor’s face in my inner sight appear directly in front of me. We were almost nose to nose.

As soon as I indicated a ‘hello and welcome,’ my chest warmed, my heart blew open, and the image disappeared. I stayed within that delicious experience for a while, now intrigued to meet Zor in person.

The first day at the barn, we were going to greet the horses and spend time with them in the paddocks. Liberty training offers the horse freedom in space and interaction with humans.

With four paddocks to choose from, the herd of three horses and three humans would spend time in territory together.

Entering the paddock with some trepidation, I was struck by how Zor towered over the other two horses. I was fully anticipating watching them graze from afar, so was surprised when Zor came directly toward me. I put my closed fist up for a possible greeting, like a fist bump to his nose, as instructed.

Almost immediately, Zor lowered his head and bumped his nose hard against my heart, pushing me back a step.

Contact established, power demonstrated, and heart connection activated, he wandered away to another paddock.

I, in the meantime, took a few moments to both welcome the greeting and calm my nervous system, which had activated with that push.

The afternoon was spent lazily relaxing in a chair beneath the shade of a tree. 



Eyes closed, perception widened, I listened to the breeze in the trees, the bird song, and the sounds of the horses grazing. At times, a horse would come to stand behind us, presencing the harmony felt within the natural world and our bodies.

I felt like I took a nap without sleeping.

I enjoyed watching my daughter and friend brush the horses, always keeping my respectful distance. I squatted before the smallest horse as he ate his hay and had a lovely exchange through both spoken language and inner awareness. All in all, it was a lovely day.

Two days later, I woke up with genuine excitement as I couldn’t wait to spend time with Zor. I was surprised by feelings of strong affection and even a bit of inner longing.

Upon arrival, I was immediately greeted by one of the smaller horses. Again, a nose-to-heart bump, followed by a lovely exchange.

Once these niceties were complete, I made a beeline for Zor. I noticed my delight and respect. Even as I was careful of my position given his size, the intimidation of the previous day was gone.

As I dry brushed his coat, chatting with him, I was struck by the intimate, relational nature of the encounter.

Here was this enormous animal, power incarnate, demonstrating the same comfort with me as I was feeling with him.

Once brushed, Zor walked away to roll around on the ground before returning to me for yet another brushing session.

Laughter, care, and increasing familiarity left me conversing with Zor on multiple levels. Chatting aloud with him and others around us often seemed to narrate the quiet exchange we were having beneath the surface.

When an afternoon snack of hay was delivered, he received my offer of energy healing.  Instinctively, we worked together. It was quiet, clear, and intimate.

Later that evening, I saw some photos my friends had taken of us during this healing exchange.

It struck me fully then what I had experienced but had not fully realized at the time. After a lifetime of indifference or intimidation around horses, I was completely at ease and confident in my interactions with Zor. Beyond comfort was a full-body sense of delight within the beautiful “territory.”

I realized then that this wasn’t about skill development or even courage in the face of a really huge horse.

It was coherence.

Horses respond to the state you are presenting. When the heart, breath, and nervous system settle into rhythm, the body becomes steady. Nature is naturally coherent, and horses, finely attuned to the natural field, recognize coherence.

When you arrive in the ‘field’ or ‘territory’  open, present, and steady, you naturally enter deeper states of coherence.

Beyond your own nervous system relaxation and expanded perception is the dance between other coherent systems: birds, horses, pasture, breeze.

Upon reflection, I recognized there was a mutual reading of one another’s state of being that allowed trust to arise. The connection with Zor revealed itself between us in the relational space enhanced within coherence. Trust was established rapidly, and a relationship formed.

My last moments with Zor were outside of his stall after he enjoyed his snack of watery green nutrition.

I had a hard time saying goodbye. He tried time and time again to give me that hard nose bump to my heart. Given his dripping green snout, we settled for ear scratching.



Coherence exists naturally. When you relax enough to meet life within it, you begin to notice the quiet harmony already unfolding all around and within you.

You don’t need to hang out with horses to discover the way in to coherence. Time in nature is often an easy way to explore harmony within and without. If you’d like to learn more about heart coherence and a simple technique to support you, feel free to enjoy my free resource The Self Soothe Strategy. 

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

HeartWarming

 News

Is healing with horses for you? Growing research continues to highlight the healing potential of horses. Equine-assisted programs are now being used with veterans experiencing PTSD, children with autism, and individuals recovering from trauma, anxiety, and depression. Studies suggest that the presence of horses can help regulate the nervous system, build trust, and strengthen emotional awareness. Because horses are highly sensitive to human body language and physiological states, they offer immediate, nonjudgmental feedback that supports self-regulation and connection. Many therapeutic programs report improvements in confidence, social skills, and emotional resilience, reminding us that meaningful healing relationships can sometimes begin in the quiet company of animals.

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Milo, the Snowstorm, and a Small Lie

We recently had a big snow in my neck of the woods.

Everyone was hunkered down. The fridge was full, chicken soup was bubbling on the stove, and my book pile sat patiently on the coffee table. As the snow covered the neighborhood and the plows dumped fresh mounds over our carefully shoveled walk, we took turns peeking outside.

As a kid, snowstorms were pure joy.

The neighborhood gathered as we went sledding and built snow forts until someone’s mom called us in for hot chocolate or hot maple syrup poured onto pristine snow. After drying off in front of the fire, we played Monopoly until the next outdoor adventure began.

These days, naps and shoveling are more my speed.

“It’s still snowing,” my husband reported for the umpteenth time. Milo, with his nose pressed against the glass, stared longingly at the winter wonderland. After a while, the whole scene became a bit ridiculous.

So I channeled my inner child, bundled up, and took Milo sledding.

It was great fun, the two of us flying down a snowy hill on speedy discs, snow spraying everywhere. You can see for yourself that Milo was living his best winter life.

Except for one thing. At fourteen, Milo is deaf. He can’t walk down steps and he got stuck in the snow the last time he went outside.

So no, we didn’t go sledding.

I’m still laughing at the image I created using Milo’s post-bath photo with the help of ChatGPT. In the midst of all the controversy about AI, it felt worth remembering that a funny image can just be funny, even if it isn’t real.

These days, fake images and fabricated narratives are everywhere. That’s the moment we’re living in, and it will only become more apparent as people become more skilled with AI.

Humans making things up is not new. Civilization itself runs on shared fictions.

Myth, metaphor, theater, religion, advertising, etiquette, fashion, money, nations, marriage rituals, résumés, bedtime stories, polite smiles, academic theories, and social media bios are all constructed narratives. What has changed is the scale, speed, and reach of how stories travel. 

So how do you go forward from here?

When I listen to people talk about AI, I hear fear, anger, excitement, and certainty, often all at once. There’s a lot of positional shouting about whether we’re headed for collapse or a shiny new golden age. 

I’ve wanted to slow it down a bit. Not the technology itself. I’m not in charge of that. Just my own response to its obvious presence in the world.

These days, I’m practicing discernment in earnest.

I’m not dismissing everything and I’m not swallowing everything whole. 


Humans have always told stories to entertain, protect, educate, market, control, delight, convert, and create.

It’s complicated. So I’ve simplified it for myself with three questions.



First Question: What’s the intent? Why is this story being told?



Some stories are playful. They invite humor, imagination, or connection. Milo’s wild ride in the snow lives here. No one was harmed or misled.



Some stories are protective, using humor as a shield or storytelling as a way to hold a boundary.



And some stories are manipulative. They seek advantage at another’s expense, meant to sell, control, inflame, extract, or deceive. Our world is full of these narratives, and with AI, they can be harder to spot.



Still, it’s worth remembering that AI doesn’t create intent. Humans bring intent to the tool.



Second Question: What’s the context? Where does this story live and with whom?



A fabricated image meant to delight is not the same as one used to distort consent, truth, or power.

Absurdity works on a playground or a stage. Metaphor belongs in art and education. Accuracy matters in medicine, courts, and aviation.



The same story can be harmless in one context and dangerous in another.

Right now, we’re living with massive context collapse.



When everything arrives on our screens looking equally important, information easily loses its framing, expertise, and relational cues. The answer isn’t to believe everything or to decide nothing can be trusted. 



Discernment asks us to strengthen our contextual literacy.



Third Question: Who holds the power? Who benefits if this is believed? Who is impacted but can’t be heard?



A joke between friends isn’t the same as a narrative imposed on a population. The real danger isn’t fabrication itself. It’s distortion amplified by imbalance.



I understand fear and anger as responses to this messy moment, especially as people worry about the impact of AI on artists, livelihoods, education, the environment, and more.

But fear collapses discernment and anger flattens nuance.

Both push humans toward extremes and give away agency faster than any technology ever could.



Discernment, by contrast, requires a calm nervous system and a willingness to pause.

It asks simple questions: What’s being claimed? Who’s speaking? In what context? And what is being asked of me as I take this in?



As a wise human, you’re capable of asking these questions and choosing your response, including the choice to wait when something isn’t clear.



As for outsourcing creativity, critical thinking, or personal agency, that’s a human decision, not a demand made by AI. So it’s important to think for yourself before handing over that task to AI.



AI is very good at analytical intelligence: pattern recognition, extrapolation, prediction, optimization. Humans participate in a different kind of intelligence when they aren’t overwhelmed or constantly narrating experience. This natural intelligence arises through presence, attunement, coherence, relationship, and timing.



AI works with explicit pattern memory. Humans participate in living systems rich with nuance and meaning.



AI is a tool, an interface, a resource. It is not a human, a guru, a friend, or a conscience.

You choose how to use it, or not. You don’t have to hand over your agency, creativity, or natural intelligence to use a powerful tool.



Smiling at a picture of my dog wildly sledding down a snowy hill doesn’t diminish your capacity to create art, learn something new, share kindness, commune with nature, or embody wisdom.



So with all the harmful intent that has always existed in human history, remember this: don’t abandon your intelligence, your creativity, your heart, or your capacity to choose.



Stay curious. Stay relational. Stay human. 

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

HeartWarming

 News

When the world is scary and the future frightening, it is helpful to seek good news. “Tell me something good” is a phrase I’ve used at home and in my therapy practice. When I feel like the world is going to hell in a hand basket and I’m wanting reassurance that there are lots of good humans, creative ideas, and communities working together on solutions, I head to Reasons to Be Cheerful. Created by David Byrne of Talking Heads (Burning Down The House – how appropriate).  Check out The Year In Cheer – 97 Ways the World Got Better in 2025. Seeking good news will not only boost your wellbeing, it might inspire you to be a beneficial presence. 

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We Got Skunked

Decision time.

Do I take my dog out front in my pjs and pink fuzzy slippers to bless “his” fire hydrant or let him roam free in the backyard?

We’ve been a little overprotective of Milo ever since he broke his foot this summer while chasing an intruder. Especially since his tendency is to take off like a bat outta hell if he sees a squirrel or bunny. Yet, his foot had healed nicely and it was early, cold, and damp.

I kept an eye on him as he patrolled and watered the garden beds.

When he disappeared into the overgrown woods, I went to make my smoothie. Trusting he’d bark when it was time to get his portion. Mid-smoothie, I was prompted to look outside as I witnessed him leaping over the greenery and streaking toward the side yard. It was such a full out run that I went out on the deck to investigate.

My mind scrambled and I couldn’t understand why two black and white creatures were nose to nose in my yard.

Within seconds I was screaming “Milo, No!”while watching two snarling creatures locked in a battle. In hindsight, I realize my stress response had diminished my frontal lobe functioning. I was terrified that Milo was going to be bitten in the face by this creature.

Seems I forgot all about a skunk’s secret weapon.

I saw the moment Milo got sprayed in the face and his valiant effort to go in for one more snarl. I’m sure the burning was too much for him as he ran in a panic, rubbing his face in the grass. My extensive vocabulary changed to “Milo, Come!” as I ran along with him.

As he streaked by me on the deck, I saw his look of panic in his blood red eyes.

He’s quick and efficient. I’ll grant him that. In his frenzied state, Milo blessed the carpets in 3 rooms with that skunk’s parting gift before I caught him. Knowing I had to wash out his eyes, I leashed him and dragged the poor beast to grab towels and upstairs to the bathroom. Not even letting him pause for another wipe of his face.

As I ran the water, my entire focus was on protecting his eyes.

We were in sync as he brought his face under the warm water, flushing out his eyes. Quickly laying towels over the bathroom rug, I sought the dog shampoo. Only to find we had none. I grabbed my liquid soap made of plants which was good for sensitive skin. Not so great for de-skunking, but okay if soap got in his eyes.

Keeping up a constant stream of soothing language while lathering Milo allowed me to calm us both down a bit.

As my system reorganized and my higher order thinking came back on line, I realized a few things. He stunk. I stunk. My house stunk. And his eyes were clearing up rapidly. Once he had his roll about on the towels (and my bathroom rug) he was fluffy and a bit less stinky.

Leashed, I took him to the kitchen while I called the vet. “Watch his eyes.” 



I looked up how to get out skunk smell from a dog, my rugs, and my house. Just too complicated for me in that moment to do by myself. When I saw he was still shaking, I sat down and did a Body Code session to clear the trauma. No surprise that first up was the physical-emotional shock, unbalanced adrenals, and other relevant reactions. I treated myself as well while we moved through the protocol to help my system rebalance.

It worked well for both of us.

Too bad The Body Code doesn’t get out skunk oil. 


Next, I found the best rug cleaning service for stinky rugs and arranged for a thorough job three days hence.

With all my tasks done, I made peace with what had rearranged my day and that stink which was well entrenched in my nostrils. 

We took some sniff and strolls. Then sat outside on the deck for hours waiting for my husband to return from a trip.



Welcome home, lol. I quickly headed out to buy skunk shampoo and get my hair triple washed at the salon.

After a second bath that evening, I’d like to say Milo isn’t a skunk pup. But, I’d be lying. Eventually he’ll reject all that oil from his system, but not today. You might be gung ho about coating your dog in a skunk defying mix, leaving it on for 5 minutes, hosing him off, and repeating the process. But, I’m not. 



Our house has very clean rugs, towels on the furniture where skunk pup rests, and a calm dog who continues to keep watch over his domain.



I recognize the power of Energy Medicine techniques such as The Body Code every week in my office. And I saw its potential to help both of us quickly process the trauma of our skunk encounter. We’re all quite calm and tolerant of the subtle, but lingering stink. 



Milo could write a testimonial for The Body Code, but he’s too busy patrolling the yard as the apex predator he believes himself to be.

I won’t disabuse him of this notion. Yet, I will check the back yard before letting him out in the early morning. If I can assist you in processing the challenges of life, old or new, with any of the Energy Psychology or Energy Medicine techniques I know, please reach out.

It’s safe now ‘cause I no longer stink. 


 

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

HeartWarming

 News

Challenging events and bad news can devastate, challenge a shift, or invite something new. The old adage of a silver lining is worth remembering. With so much emphasis is placed on avoiding trouble and decreasing stress, many people don’t even realize there are more types of stress response than just “fight or flight.” The Challenge Stress Response invites creativity in dealing with obstacles and perhaps even looking hard for that silver lining. Like when COVID shut down public places, restaurants and street vendors got creative in the open air. Something that continues to this day. Check out my Self Soothe Strategy PlayBook and Meditation so you may be flexible in the face of your “skunk.”