The Horses Reminded Me

There are moments in life that don't change you.

They remind you of who you've been all along.

Earlier this week, I had the incredible gift of attending Kami Guildner's Equine Vision Retreat, and I'm still allowing the experience to settle into my heart.

Kami has such a gentle, graceful way of guiding women through personal and spiritual growth. She doesn't force transformation. She creates the space for it. The kind of space where truth rises naturally and your soul gets a chance to speak.

The Wisdom of Stillness

On our first day, we spent time with the horses—Thor, Goldie, and Sugary.

The first thing I noticed wasn't their size or their beauty.

It was their stillness.

They weren't trying to prove themselves. They weren't performing. They weren't worried about what came next. They were simply present.

Watching them, I realized how often I'm moving. Thinking. Planning. Fidgeting. Living just outside my own body instead of fully inside it.

The horses reminded me that embodiment isn't something we achieve.

It's something we return to.

In their quiet presence, I found an invitation to slow down, breathe, and simply be.

The Circle of Protection

Later that day, we participated in a Medicine Wheel ceremony, bringing meaningful objects from home to represent different parts of ourselves.

Of course, I overthought it.

I don't keep many sentimental objects, but I do have a collection of rocks and crystals gathered over the years. For my inner child, I chose a small rose quartz elephant.

Years ago, I attended a conference with my daughters and one of my dearest friends, Christina. During the conference, we learned how female elephants instinctively form a circle around their babies whenever danger approaches.

That image has stayed with me ever since.

As I looked around this retreat—surrounded by two of my closest friends and a beautiful circle of women—I realized I was living inside one of those circles.

During the meditation, a message came through so clearly:

You have always been protected.

Even during the seasons when it didn't feel that way.

Even as a child.

I've always had God.

I've always had my ancestors.

I've always had guides walking beside me.

I've always been held by something greater than what I could see.

That realization softened something deep within me.

It reminded me that a childhood wound doesn't have to become a lifelong scar.

It can become evidence of resilience.

Evidence of healing.

Evidence of the strength you've carried all along.

The Fear I Didn't Know I Was Carrying

On the second day, we each had one-on-one coaching with Kami while working alongside the horses.

Honestly, I wasn't sure what I wanted to work on.

Life feels good.

I feel deeply content.

But as I watched the other women courageously step into their own breakthroughs, something quietly surfaced within me.

Over the past year, something happened that caused me to withdraw.

Not physically.

Energetically.

Without realizing it, I had made myself just a little smaller.

A little quieter.

A little less visible.

The irony wasn't lost on me.

Michelle and I are being called to become more visible in our business. To speak more. Lead more. Share more.

Yet somewhere beneath that calling was an unconscious fear.

If I become more visible... will I be attacked again?

It wasn't a new fear.

It was an old pattern.

Teachers.

People I once called friends.

Past relationships.

Business experiences where I felt criticized or judged because I wasn't doing things someone else's way.

Consciously, I know my worth.

I know my value.

But my nervous system was still trying to protect me by staying small.

Safety had quietly become more important than visibility.

What the Horses Reflected Back

The horses didn't offer advice.

They didn't need to.

Without speaking a single word, they reflected something back to me.

They saw me.

They accepted me.

They reminded me of the love and support surrounding me.

Most importantly, they showed me that I don't have to carry everything alone.

For much of my life, I've worn hyper-independence like a badge of honor.

But strength isn't found in carrying everything by yourself.

Sometimes the strongest thing you can do is lean into the people who love you.

Support doesn't make us weaker.

It allows us to become more fully ourselves.

When we make ourselves small, we aren't protecting our gifts.

We're hiding them.

And the world misses out.

Remembering

I didn't leave the retreat feeling like a different person.

I left feeling more like myself.

More peaceful.

More grounded.

More embodied.

More willing to trust that I don't have to earn my place.

I don't have to prove my worth.

I don't have to shrink in order to feel safe.

The horses reminded me that I am enough exactly as I am.

That I am supported.

That I am protected.

And that my light was never meant to be hidden.

Perhaps that's what healing really is.

Not becoming someone new.

But finally feeling safe enough to become fully yourself.

A Question for You

Where in your life have you been making yourself just a little smaller?

Not because you lack confidence…

But because somewhere along the way, your nervous system decided it was safer.

What might become possible if you trusted that you are already supported?

That you are already enough?

That your light was never meant to be hidden?

Sometimes the greatest transformation isn't found in learning something new.

Sometimes it's found in remembering what your soul has always known.