​I ignored her at first, I know, but I didn’t want to chase her off when she was just finally getting involved. I mean, what if she was never interested again? Instead, I moved my own feet and just got away. Like a game of chess, she made her next move, and once again I found myself staring at her hindquarters. With horses, whoever gets the other one to move their feet is the leader, so I knew I couldn’t keep just walking away if I was going to earn a respected place with my herd. I moved her away from me. She turned right back again. I moved her again. And then, when she blatantly placed her rear end in front of me a fourth time, that was it, I had to make a bold move, or it was going to be checkmate. I chased her out of the barn.
 
I thought I was good at being clear about what was okay and not okay with me, but this encounter, and a recent exchange with my husband, were telling me otherwise. He had been in the room with me when I picked up a phone call I didn’t really want to take. I was moving into the inward parts of menstrual cycle and my energy was waning. I told my friend I was tired, but if it was critical, I could talk. She proceeded to talk; it was not critical. I tried again to tell her where I was at, but when she just kept going, so I gave up and just listened miserably. I got off the phone and complained to my spouse about how I had been direct about my boundaries but that it didn’t seem to matter. He proceeded to inform me that I had actually been quite indirect and not at all firm. Ouch.
 
No is hard for me. The fact that I am even doing it ineffectively is great progress. I used to just never do it and then no one ever really knew me. I was who others needed me to be and it was never real, and it was completely unsustainable. So, on Day 6 of my practice, when Dragon put her rump in my face again, I took my opportunity to practice being clear and direct. I didn’t hesitate, but immediately said no and chased her off. And guess what, she came back and it didn’t happen again. I didn’t push her away as I had thought, instead I told her how we could actually both be safely and enjoyably connected.
 
Equines communicate energetically. They don’t judge inward energy as bad and outward energy as good, they just want you to own your energy completely. When you are true to yourself in the present moment, with however you are feeling and whatever you are needing, they feel safe with you, they trust you. And isn’t that what we are all looking for in our intimate relationships? I am learning to trust that my relationships can handle my no. No, that my relationships need my no to be whole, to be holy, to be healing.

If you want to come learn from the equines too we would love to see you in October for the 2025 Equine-Facilitated Learning Retreat: Braving & Belonging.

Today begins an idea that started for me in 2021. I had foolishly and bravely bought a farm to run retreats and was having a soft-opening of my first retreat offering - a writing retreat - with two dear friends. After two magical days of writing together I gave them parting goodies of advent calendars with prompts, and we wrote together virtually for 25 days.

The writings I did during that time are the foundation of my book, The Writing Chrysalis. I’m running it virtually beginning today, and you can join our cocoon and receive a daily email with writing inspiration and a prompt. There will also be a group google doc if you wish to share your daily discoveries. The end of The Writing Chrysalis will correspond nicely with the annual Writing Chrysalis Retreat at Braving Star Farms for those who are able to attend, but it is not necessary to participate.

I hope you enjoy the free-sample below, and if you are inspired to join us you can do so here for just $1 a day. (And if you are finding this later, you can now buy the book and take your own self-paced journey).

Day 1 of The Writing Chrysalis
CHRYSALIS
Just as a caterpillar can’t transform into a butterfly without its chrysalis, a writer can’t make magic without the cocoon of the blank page. Whether a word document, college-ruled notebook, or a handmade journal with artisanal paper, the page holds the space for transformation to occur. Therefore, there is nothing more daring than entering the whitespace of the blank page.
Putting down any armor, you pick up your beloved pen, and cross the threshold into the writing chrysalis. Leaving the known and the safe is never comfortable, and will often be scary, but you are willing to risk it to experience the great mystery. In this vulnerable arena you bravely and honestly pour yourself out. Judging nothing. Witnessing everything.
Alchemy is a messy process, but you keep the ink flowing until you’ve met your word count, your timer goes off, or your battery runs out. When you finally emerge, you stop and rest, knowing that the ink must dry before you test or edit anything. You are tender with the fresh creation; with the changes that have taken place both on and off the page.
Free-writing prompt: Cocoon

The next person had chosen to work with the miniature horses – Snowy and Thunder – for her session. While everyone was enchanted by Thunder and his big personality in a tiny pony body, I went to see Snowy who was standing off to the side. As I was hanging out with her, I noticed she was starting to drift off. At one point in my life I might have taken her drowsiness the wrong way and worried I was boring, but right then, it was profound permission.

I was TIRED. It had been three full days of people and learning, and I had just given out lots of energy in my session. And here she was, showing me it was okay to be however I was. Then she hammered the point by laying down. I about died at the cuteness and the connection. If there hadn’t been rules about not being on the ground - damn safety - I would have been right there with her. Instead, I squatted down and just closed my eyes for a moment, giving into rest.

I didn’t think it could get any better or more meaningful, but then it was shared that Snowy was Thunder’s mother. Relationships with mothers can often be complicated, and mine is no exception. And as evidenced by living in the country and caretaking 19 farm animals, I often find compassion and comfort from animals and mother Earth. I also have done a ton of self-compassion work to learn how to mother myself and my inner child well. To have been mothered well by Snowy in that session was pure loving magic.
​
If you could use more rest and play in your life, I hope you will come retreat yourself at Braving Star Farms. The herd and flock and I would love to meet you! And if you want to mother yourself well please check out my book Self-Compassion Stories: 40 days of creative nurturing to help you remember you are rooted in love.

After I had my first hit of Equine-Facilitated Learning (EFL) at Brené Brown’s Courage Camp in 2017, I was hooked. So much so that I was willing to drive five hours away in 2018 to attend a Texas gathering of Certified Daring Way™ Facilitators that was going to include more EFL.
​
When I learned that only one or two of us would actually be going in with a horse, I felt my anxiety and scarcity rise. I didn’t want to take away from someone else, but I didn’t want to miss out on something if it was meant for me. I found myself blurting out my fears, and the facilitator calmly asked me to be curious about my discernment struggle. I pretty much hated that.

​The truth is I’ve lived a lot of my life as an observer and not really in the arena. It was always safer to let others be vulnerable, and I would wait on the sidelines until I’d gathered enough trust in the space and courage to be seen. And while I’d been practicing being braver and bolder, it was still hard to trust myself and my instincts. My worried head often got in the way of my wholeheartedness.

When my phone rang with a client emergency as I was observing the first arena participant, it was a little helpful nod from the universe as to why I was not in there. I walked away from the group and towards the parking lot to handle the call, and after being a calm witness for someone else, I was inspired to take a moment to offer myself the same gift. I acknowledged that I had been expecting things to go differently, and that I was feeling doubt, disappointment, and frustration. I also praised myself for taking the risk to come, and for vulnerably sharing what I was thinking and feeling with the group. And when I turned around to head back, I saw this face greeting me at the main gate:

Tears that had already been close to the surface were immediately freed to flow onto my face.
There I was feeling like I had driven miles to just miss out, and this sweet soul saw me and let me know that I mattered and that I hadn’t been forgotten. This is the gift of the herd - we are all connected and everyone belongs. And it didn’t really matter what else happened, that moment of being seen and loved was enough. The fact that it came only after I had really connected with myself made it even more meaningful.

​At the end of the day (which to my happy surprise had gone on to include plenty of other equine interaction time for all) we were invited to add a take-away message onto the barn wall. I took up a lot of space and planted a thick tree with the words, “Take Your Time,” because I was in the process of uprooting my life and would later that year would be planting myself in the country.

I’m so grateful for all the wise beings I got to share that magical day with. And I’m so glad I had that image and those words to hold onto because I sure needed them to build Braving Star Farms. It’s been a messy-wonderful-terrifying-journey, and to my happy surprise, 5 years later, I now am certified in Equine-Facilitated Learning and hold my own EFL retreats and events, along with writing retreats and more!
​
If you are looking for connection, whether to yourself, nature, or others, I hope you will be brave and come visit soon!

2. Living my values
 
The only reason I was in the arena with two young horses was because I had said yes to living my values in the arena of life. With a leap of faith, and a ton of anxiety and fear, I had let go of who I thought I was supposed to be and said yes to living my new values of creativity and compassion. I was at Courage Camp, taking this workshop, because I had become a Certified Daring Way™ Facilitator. I had left the world of non-profit psychotherapy and started my own business, something I never thought I would do. And the only thing that carried me through all the shit of that transition was my values. Then, just like now, I didn’t know what I was doing, but I was showing up - vulnerable, brave, and ready to be seen.
 
3. BRAVING Trust
 
After spending most of my life not listening to my body, part of my self-trust practice is taking its signals seriously. With the remnant tingle at my ribs, my quick breathing, and my pounding heart, I knew I needed to calm down. I stopped walking towards one of the horses and reached out to the nearest tree. With my hand on the rough bark, I took a deep breath, and grounded myself. Almost immediately, the horse that had been nibbling on grass stopped grazing and looked up at me. I was seen with that big brown eye, and now my heart was pounding in a new way. Slowly, I walked forward, not wanting to startle him and break the moment. Amazingly, he didn’t turn and run away, and before I knew it, I had a new sensation of soft warm fur at my fingertips. I was so appreciative of his trust, but I wanted to get closer. But what if, I thought, the horse doesn’t want that? I became tentative, and in my head, and suddenly, he turned away.
 
4. Rising Strong
 
A facilitator stepped in at that time to process what was happening for me. I shared that I wanted to hug the horse, but that I wasn’t sure if that was okay with him. The facilitator asked if it was a pattern for me to feel that my needs were a problem, and warm, wet tears of confirmation slid down my cheeks. I have always been hyper-attuned to everyone else and their needs but struggled with believing that mine mattered. The facilitator asked what it would be like to hug the horse, even if he didn’t need a hug, and I said that I could try. In my heart I told the horse I needed a hug and asked if that would that be okay. The horse didn’t move, so I approached, and he let me snuggle in close. And that was it. I carefully navigated out, miraculously managing not to step in poop. People did watch me, I did cry, I didn’t know what to do and seconded guessed myself, but I hadn’t stepped in shit!

​Even though my time in the arena was brief and over quickly, that experience continues to stay with me, a visceral learning that has made me braver in the arena of life with sharing my needs and believing it is okay to get them met. ​I hope you will be courageous and come join us for your own Equine-Facilitated Learning experience soon!

​Ordinary Courage

​“The root of the word courage is cor – the Latin word for heart. In one of its earliest forms, the word courage had a very different definition than it does today. Courage originally meant "To speak one's mind by telling all one's heart."

Over time, this definition has changed, and today, courage is more synonymous with being heroic. Heroics is important and we certainly need heroes, but I think we've lost touch with the idea that speaking honestly and openly about who we are, about what we're feeling, and about our experiences (good and bad) is the definition of courage.

Heroics is often about putting our life on the line. Ordinary courage is about putting our vulnerability on the line. In today's world that's pretty extraordinary.”
-Brené Brown, The Gifts of Imperfection

I've always loved collecting quotes. Here are 40 related to self-compassion that I've discovered over the years to use during Daring Discoveries' Annual Self-Compassion Retreat. And if you are ready to practice self-compassion for 40 days, grab your copy of Self-Compassion Stories. 

DISCOVER MORE

NOW AVAILABLE ON-DEMAND

I wasn't going to run a 100 Days of Building Creativity E-Course in 2019 (because I was working on having a book ready as guide for the following year), but I had already collected all the quotes, so I decided why not give my newsletter subscribers an on-demand experience for free. 

I spent this 100 Days final editing the book I had secretly written the first draft to during the 3rd 100 Days.  But this time I shared what I was doing and how the writing process was going for me. 

In 2021 we used the book I finished during the 6th 100 Days: Practice Pilgrimage. My practice was to spend time dwelling and learning from my equine herd of three each day. 

From January 24th- May 3rd 2022 my practice was Sand Play. I had a sand tray and all the supplies from my psychotherapy providing days, and while I had done some profound personal trays over the years, I was curious about using it more often.  

This pilgrimage was hosted within a private group in Hali Karla's Mighty Network, and that was really nice. 

...didn't happen. I listened to the energy I was feeling and decided I didn't want to lead others in a formal commitment in 2023. I personally practiced making a daily collage page in my journal, but I didn't keep track of days or streaks. 

That’s what a pottery wheel workshop was for me. I just wanted to do it. 
An artist and friend Joan Moody held a workshop at Alvin Community College Ceramic department in February 2016 and I went, ready to explore this desire I had.

I just wanted to try making something from clay. And try I did. Wow was it hard. Like anything, masters make it look easy. 

Because doing something new is scary, I had written my intention on my arms – let go and legt god, which is where the name LEGO came from and means, play well. Because that is what I was practicing in 2016, my year of letting go and playing well, of building a creation out of bricks each day. 

Little did I know I would end up creating a tea bowl (after one failed attempt and a lot of hands-on assistance) that would come in handy when Global Tea Hut came into my life later that year.

You never know how what you do today is creating and supporting your future.

I can’t encourage you enough to pick 2-3 creative endeavors you want to try in 2018.

I’ve been practicing this since taking Brené Brown's online course The Gifts of Imperfection in 2014 and it's powerful. That year my endeavors were to take her Daring Way™ training and to go with my artist friend Kathy Ericksen to take an in-person creativity class, any class would do.

Last year I wanted to dance more, drum, and try surfing.

Surfing took as much letting go and bravery as this pottery wheel did in 2016, and I have plans to do neither again, but learned so much from both.

This year I want to laugh more, write, and garden.

Do you have any creative endeavors you want to try for 2018?
​I’d love to hear them!


*I'd love to give credit to the photographer who kindly took the above picture for me at my request at the workshop, but I don't have his information anymore. Sending you much gratitude and if you ever see this please email me and I will update!