12/26/2025
❤️ 🐎 😇 🙏🏼
🐴 For those who go to the barn to heal....to think….
There’s a reason the barn feels different when your heart is heavy.
A reason the air seems softer,
the sounds quieter,
the world a little easier to breathe in.
Horses don’t ask what’s wrong.
They don’t expect you to explain
or justify or pretend you’re fine.
They just feel you.
They read the things you don’t say,
the weight you carry,
the storm you’re trying to hide.
Somehow, they know.
And in their gentle, wordless way,
they offer you the kind of healing
people struggle to give.
The kind that doesn’t require talking.
Because horses don’t heal you
with answers,
they heal you with presence.
Sometimes healing looks like
brushing out a mane
until your thoughts untangle with it.
Sometimes healing looks like
burying your face in a warm neck
and letting the tears fall because
you’ve been trying to hold it together
for too long.
And sometimes healing is just
standing in the quiet,
with a horse beside you,
while the pieces inside you
slowly settle into place again.
For anyone going through something heavy right now…
for anyone who slips away to the barn
just to feel like themselves again…
you’re not weak.
You’re human.
And if you’re staring at an empty stall or an un used dog bed, a cat food dish covered with dust. You are not alone. They are with you. They are in the silent tears running down your cheeks, the last light of sunset through the trees and the memories you hold in your heart, through both sobs and smiles.
This Christmas I’m missing a few extra special horses, one in particular, that I didn’t even own on paper, but he owns part of my heart forever, even from heaven.
Healing will always visit me…in the barn. Especially at Christmas.