It’s springing, if you find yourself in the Northern Hemisphere. I love experiencing the land begin its exhale of energy out from where it has gathered for winter in the belly of the earth, starting with the wildflowers on the forest floor, then up to the bushes, then all the way to the treetops. The horses love it too, that sweet spring grass.
Like many of you I experienced the eclipse recently in the path of totality. I feel so grateful for the reminder of how precious this life is, and how powerful awe is to open a portal into remembering that each of us being alive on this planet is the culmination of innumerable miracles.
I’m sitting with the curiosity now of what would it be like to live each day open to that kind of awe? Allowing awe, and truly being present with it, is powerful. Whether it’s witnessing a beautiful event in nature, feeling a horse breathing on our skin, or experiencing an incredible coincidence, awe has the potential of dissolving a little bit of the perceived separation between “us” and the universe.
I recently accompanied my husband to see his 98 year old grandmother, and we asked her advice on living such a long life: “enjoy your life. As much as you can.” That struck me. And then a day later, as circumstances felt annoying and things out of control and uncomfortable, I remembered her words of wisdom. HOW? A voice screamed inside.
Maybe that’s what we’re all doing here, learning to accept what is in each moment, and even feel awe for this unfolding creation. It’s easy to enjoy life when everything is going just as I want it to, people are saying things I like, I’m experiencing the totality of a solar eclipse, my body feels great, and I’m in the flow. But what about when it’s not all comfortable? Because since I last wrote a newsletter at the end of 2023, not everything has gone exactly as I would have liked. I’ve felt challenged, just like anyone. At times angry, or betrayed, or worried, or sad; and at other times I’ve felt so grateful, joyful, deeply connected with this mysterious web of existence, in love with all of it. In other words, life.
I have spent my winter meditating on the lessons I learned in 2023, listening to the herd, and following my heart’s desires to reconsider how Inner Freedom creates spaces for people to connect with horse medicine. I love to explore how horses can be allies in expanding our capacity to accept what is, reconnect with the wisdom of nature, and remember our true self. I am really excited to share several collaborations and retreats for this summer, as well my new session format which is inspired by my desire to bring in more of a Qigong and energy perspective as I work toward my Qigong teacher and healer certification:
Guest Facilitator
- Kerri Lake: Courage to Feel. UPDATE: we have shortened this from 3.5 days to 2.5 days! I am thrilled to participate in this event, a playful exploration of regenerating a heart-centered experience of living. Come join us!! See below a short conversation about this upcoming event. A recent participant testimonial in one of Kerri’s events: “Overall, this is the most impactful course I have ever done! I feel it is literally more valuable than most of the other education I have undertaken my whole life. I cannot thank you enough. I hear your voice in my head often, bringing me back to that loving space.”
Retreat Announcement
- Circling Center: A Retreat Series Unveiling the Guidance of Tarot and Horses. This is a collaboration with my magical friend Julie, an incredible Tarot reader, who will guide us in developing our own relationship with Tarot to read for ourselves. The overlap between her work and Inner Freedom continues to inspire. We will have lots of time with the horses too for observation and integration. These two retreats build on each other; you can sign up for one or both.
New Session Offerings
- Herd Meditation: ~2 hours, for up to 4 people
- Herd Observation with Children: ~60-75 minutes, for up to 5 people
- Custom Group Experiences: half day or full day, up to 8 people
Finally, totality reminded me of this Mary Oliver poem, and so I leave you with this, feeling the approach of days in the summer grass, listening to the insect orchestra, feeling the gentle breeze, observing the horses and their majestic presence.
The Summer Day
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean—
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down—
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
—Mary Oliver
With love,
Elizabeth and the herd