What’s the Time?

Last night’s new moon provoked an emotional journey into the past and a night of very restless sleep. All kinds of memories about my pony Sugar Maple came rushing back to me, and the grief felt as fresh as it did the day I said goodbye to him forever. Grief is not something you get through; it’s something you learn to carry. Some days the load is light, and others it’s crushing.

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When I finally did fall asleep, I had a dream the moon herself must have sent me to help me feel better. The Dalai Lama came to me and I asked him for his most wise piece of advice. He replied, “The only time is now.” I recently had a realization that I was letting certain things in my life stop me from being happy—that I was actually stopping myself from being happy. Truly the only moment is this present one. Focusing on NOW makes it easier for me to recognize how much I have to be grateful for instead of focusing on what I’ve lost.

I had the privilege of attending a yoga class with my most favorite teacher, Denise Moore, this morning. She led my 200-hour teacher training, and to practice pranayama, meditation, and asanas led by her this morning was such a treat. Towards the end of our practice, Denise guided us through a lovingkindess meditation. We silently repeated to ourselves, “May I be safe. May I be happy. May I be healthy and strong. May I live life with ease.” We then extended the intention out to our loved ones (including our four-legged loved ones!), and then out further to our town, our state, and I eventually thought of the entire earth, humanity, animals, plants, and insects. I felt a serene oneness with the earth. When Denise mentioned living life with ease, she pointed out that this doesn’t mean challenges don’t arise—it means that when they do, we continue to let go.

I’ve learned that letting go doesn’t fix everything, but it does give me the strength to listen to my inner wisdom and find creative solutions to whatever challenges I’m facing. Letting go doesn’t mean going down the river without a paddle; it means accepting that you’re going down the river no matter what, but that you can choose which rapids to go over.

What’s stopping you from being happy? I’m going to bet that deep down, it’s you. So get out of your own way and let yourself feel joy and love and compassion. Life isn’t always rainbows and sunshine, but as Vivian Greene said so well, “Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass. It’s about learning to dance in the rain.”

Transforming the Pain of Loss into Love

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“Oh, Sugar, I miss you. I want to see you right now! I can dream of you. But that’s still not enough. Oh yes, it’s pretty rough without you. I’m sailing up to the stars, catching some sparkles for you. Oh, Sugar, how I miss you. Your shiny, velvety coat and flaxen mane and tail. Oh, Sugar, I miss you! Yes, I do.”

I wrote this note to my pony when I was eight years old. School was a distraction; my horse was my life. Not much has changed, but Sugar Maple has moved on to another plane. When I found this note the other day, it hit me in the depths of my heart. Sugar was my pony soul mate. He taught me patience, perseverance, empathy, and compassion. He taught me love. He saved me. You never get over a loss like that. It’s been over a year and a half since I said goodbye for good to Sugar, and the pain is still there.

Even in his death, Sugar taught me. I thought I would never love another horse again. I didn’t think I could. And yet, Snowy, Sugar’s grandson, has worked his way into my heart and makes me smile every day. Sugar has shown me that loss can lead to healing if you allow it; that grief can open the door to more love.

Snowy always knows how to make me laugh.


When I discovered the note, a great sadness settled into me, but right next to it was joy. I never knew sadness and joy could exist simultaneously, but in my heart they did. I was sad for my loss, sad that Sugar is no longer here; but I was also joyful that I was lucky enough to have such a special love in my life. My relationship with Sugar cannot be summed up in words. Our bond surpassed language.

Snowy has been a vital part of my healing process. He makes me laugh even on my worst days. His facial expressions at times look just like Sugar’s, and sometimes I could swear I see Sugar twinkling in his eyes. Still, Snowy is a very different horse than Sugar was and Snowy has taught me new lessons. Snowy lightened me up and taught me not to take myself or life too seriously. He humbled me and showed me how to laugh at myself. He taught me when to be bold and when to half halt.

Horses are mystical, emotional creatures, but they still have four feet on the ground. They can teach us how to soar while staying grounded. They can teach us how to be the best versions of ourselves. They can teach us how to love. The world is going through a turbulent time, and now more than ever we need to remember that love can accomplish more than hate. Compassion will allow for healing and guide us forward into a future with less violence, less racism, less prejudice, and less fear. The horse can show us the way if we simply open our hearts to learning from their wisdom.

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Why I Practice Yoga on Horseback

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“Love is the bridge between you and everything.” ~Rumi

“Do what is healing to your spirit, and without effort you will bring the world healing in return.” ~Alan Cohen

Pain is part of life. Pain enables us to heal and grow. My journey of healing began with horses and continues with my yoga practice, both on the mat and with Snowy. I began practicing yoga on horseback out of curiosity. My passion for yoga and horses fueled a quiet, but nagging thought in my mind—what would happen if I combined the two?

Good horsemen and women learn a lesson at some point in their equestrian careers: horses are much more than recreational vehicles—they are sentient beings who deserve to be treated with kindness, respect, and dignity. This lesson punched me in the gut when I was eight years old. The equestrian center my mom managed at the time housed an athletic little Appaloosa pony named Trixie. She and I would explore trails for hours. She was every little girl’s dream come true—pretty, reliable, and fast. One day Trixie and I returned to the barn and my mom noticed with horror that Trixie was huffing and puffing and lathered in sweat. My mom pulled me aside and explained to me in a stern voice that I couldn’t just go out and run Trixie as much as I wanted to. She said to me, “Horses aren’t machines. They have feelings. You have to be considerate of them. You should never cause them suffering.” My heart ached for the way I had treated Trixie. Until that day, I didn’t realize that horses had a limit, that they shouldn’t be run all the way back to the barn even if they seemed willing. I felt horrible that I had caused a sentient being suffering. As I walked Trixie out that day, allowing her to cool down, I vowed to never cause such suffering again.

“Under no circumstance should your hand disturb the horse’s mouth. You must learn to stay calm in all situations and control your emotions. There is no room for anger.” ~Xenophon

That day proved to be a turning point in my horsemanship. From then on, I dedicated myself to learning all I could about horses and how to have harmonious, mutually respectful relationships with them. I participated in Dressage, Centered Riding, and Natural Horsemanship clinics. I read all the literature I could get my hands on. And, most importantly, I learned to listen to the horse. My horsemanship and training methods are based on a deep love for and ever-increasing knowledge of the horse as a sentient being. Do I still make mistakes? Of course, but I learn from them. I do not force my will upon any horse. I do not cause any horse pain or suffering. During my yoga practices with Snowy, I pay close attention to him to see if anything I’m doing is causing him even a hint of discomfort, and if so, I immediately stop doing that pose.

“Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darkness of other people.” ~Carl Jung

When I embarked on my yoga journey, I couldn’t have fathomed where it would eventually lead. I first tried Hatha yoga at Smith College during my first year there. I was bored and could not for the life of me understand the point of savasana. During my senior year, a friend dragged me to a Baptiste Yoga Studio in town, Shiva Shakti Power Vinyasa Yoga. I walked out of that first class feeling like I was floating on air. I had officially experienced my first yoga high. Classes with Brandon and Naima transcended a physical workout and showed me how to use yoga to look within and grow spiritually. I attended classes there daily until I moved away after graduating from Smith.

I continued to practice vinyasa yoga at Awakening Yoga Studio near Savannah, GA, where I lived for two years after graduating from college. Classes with Lisa, the owner, enabled me to continue to grow my practice. I achieved headstand under her knowledgeable instruction. When I moved to Virginia in 2013, I discovered Yoga Time Studio and went there to sweat away all my stresses and uncertainties. Mindy, the owner and fabulous teacher, had a way of helping me focus on the present moment intensely while having a great time doing so. She told me about a teacher training that was being held at her studio, and that’s when I met Denise Moore. Denise created and led the first Open Dimension Yoga Teacher Training, which I graduated from in May of this year. I have never met anyone as knowledgeable and passionate about yoga as Denise. Through her training, I gained thorough knowledge of how to teach Hatha yoga to beginners and advanced beginners, and also learned about anatomy, pranayama, meditation, the yoga sutras, and more. You can learn more about Denise and her yoga classes here.

I came full circle, beginning with Hatha and ending with Hatha, although my yoga journey has really only just begun. I’ve been teaching Hatha yoga classes at Native Barre and Barre Buddhi and hope to return to teaching when I get back from Costa Rica. What I love about Hatha yoga is that it builds a strong foundation that yogis can practice on for the rest of their lives. If and when a yogi decides to try other types of yoga, Hatha teaches him/her how to stay safe and prevent injury through being mindful of proper alignment and breathing. The more I practice and teach Hatha yoga, the more I love it.

“Truth is a matter of perception. People only see what they’re prepared to confront.” ~Unknown

One sure thing I’ve learned about horses and yoga is that there is always more to learn, there is always room to grow. Admitting I don’t know it all enables me to keep learning, and I will keep learning, but I will never know all there is to know, and that’s okay. I will learn all I can and pass on all the knowledge I can, and that will be enough.

“The willingness to face life’s challenges before you have the skills in place—without shrinking from the fear and pain involved—is courage personified.” ~The Power of the Herd by Linda Kohanov

I’m making up this whole horse yoga thing as I go, guided by my heart and Snowy’s responses. I practice yoga on horseback for no other reason than I love it. Practicing with Snowy enables me to deepen my yoga and horsemanship skills. It has also cultivated even more trust between me and Snowy. There are no tricks in my photos. No one’s standing just outside the frame in case Snowy decides to move. Sometimes Snowy does fidget, and that’s when I pay extra close attention to see if something I’m doing is uncomfortable for him. Most of the time, though, Snowy stands quietly, breathing deeply, steadily, and slowly, enjoying the yoga high as much as I do. The deep peace I experience during savasana with Snowy is extraordinary.

“Don’t start chasing applause and acclaim. That way lies madness.” Ron Swanson

“Don’t start chasing applause and acclaim. That way lies madness.” ~Ron Swanson

Some critics have said I’m doing this for attention. Others have said it’s cruel to the horse. Allow me to address both of those concerns. I am not doing yoga on horseback for attention. I share my journey on social media in hopes that it can inspire others, and I share it to make others aware that horses are beings with emotions and depth, and that they deserve to be treated with kindness, respect, and dignity. And to those who think practicing yoga on horseback is cruel, I’ll tell you what’s cruel. Competing a horse in a sport it doesn’t enjoy because it feeds your ego is cruel. Confining a horse to a stall with hardly any time to just go out in the field and be a horse is cruel. Using any bit with a harsh hand is cruel. Using ill-fitting tack is cruel. Using spurs, whips, and harsher bits because you lack the skills necessary to have a mutually respectful relationship with your horse is cruel. Blaming the horse for your mistakes is cruel. Viewing the horse as anything other than a sentient being is cruel.

Yoga on horseback can be cruel. If I ignored Snowy during our sessions and tried to force him to stand still when he’s clearly trying to tell me he’s uncomfortable, that would be cruel. Any equestrian sport has the potential for cruelty. What matters is whether or not the horseman or woman understands the horse as a sentient being and respects its desires and emotions. I do. I always put the horse first. If you don’t believe me, I invite you to come watch, or even participate in, a yoga practice with me and Snowy.

“Success means we go to sleep at night knowing that our talents and abilities were used in a way that served others.” ~Marianne Williamson

“Success means we go to sleep at night knowing that our talents and abilities were used in a way that served others.” ~Marianne Williamson

I know that no matter what I say or do, there will be critics, but I’m not here to make everyone happy, and for every critic there are countless others who are inspired and supportive. I’m here to follow my heart and stay true to myself. I dare you to do the same.

“Worry is a misuse of imagination.” ~Dan Zadra


  
  
  
  

A Little Girl’s Love Story

This is a love story. Like any good love story, it has a tragic ending. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Sugar & Me
“Sugar, Sugar” began to blare through the speakers and my breath stuck in my throat. It was our song. It always will be. This is the end though, and I need to start from the beginning.
Cute Sugar
His blond, tousled mane waved in the wind so beautifully, Fabio would’ve been envious. His caramel coat was shiny and soft. But those features aren’t what made me fall in love with him. There was something special in his eyes—isn’t there always in love stories? This pony stallion was only three years old, but his eyes belonged to an old soul. They held ancient secrets and wisdom a little girl could only dream of. I was eight years old when we met.
Western Sugar

My mom bought this wild pony for just $300. He caught her eye every day on her way to work, so she inquired about him. The owner raised horses for meat and this pony was going to the sale in two weeks. The first time I saw him, I climbed the fence into his field, and he was the only horse in the entire herd to raise his head and acknowledge my presence. He kept his gaze locked on me and came cantering down towards me. I looked back at my mom and asked her what I should do. She said, “Stay put!” Feeling sure I was about to be trampled, I decided it was too late to run. He stopped just out of reach, his ears perked and his head held high. I offered him an apple and he slowly stepped forward, taking it from my hand. It was the first human touch he’d ever had.

Sugar in Roundpen 2

Sugar and one of the many members of his fan club

My mom assisted me with his training when she could, but she was busy running a Five-Star Equestrian Center, so Sugar and I were mostly on our own. I named him Sugar Maple after the Maple tree because his coat was the color of maple syrup. I trained Sugar using Natural Horsemanship methods, but mostly he taught me. I learned patience, perseverance and compassion. He gave me companionship when I could find it nowhere else. I endured emotional and verbal abuse from a man who lived with us for a few years, and I wouldn’t have survived those years without Sugar. He reminded me that not all the world is cruel and gave me a safe place to pour my tears.

Naptime at the Show Sugar at Mt Top

Sugar and I won Champion or Reserve at every show, whether we competed in Hunt Seat, the pony division, or Western Pleasure. Sugar could do it all and he did it well. That 13.2 hand pony would jump anything for me, including a four-foot oxer. My favorite ride was one where Sugar gave me a glimpse into his world. He lived on a 100-acre farm at the time, and I went into the field and hopped on him bareback with just a rope halter. I whispered in his ear, “Show me your world,” and he took off trotting up the hillside. We went into the woods and he took me onto little deer paths I didn’t even know were there. He broke into a gallop and we raced into the wide-open field.

Georgia Trail Sugar Jumping Log

Sugar and I grew up together. When I outgrew him, other little girls and boys took lessons on Sugar, explored the woods on his wide back, and competed in horse shows, earning not just ribbons, but life lessons.

Sugar Hoof Picking

I remained petite enough to continue riding Sugar non-competitively. We’d go out on trails for hours, just the two of us, no words spoken between us, but so much said in our silent togetherness in nature. Sugar taught me how to find peace in stillness and how to hear the words of my heart. He taught me how to navigate the delicate balance between audacity and reason. Almost the only time we did speak on trail is when I would sing “Sugar, Sugar” to him, but my lyrics were a bit different: “Sugar, Sugar…Oh, Honey, Honey…You are my super pony, and you make me so happy.”

Yoga with Sugar

Sugar’s the first horse I practiced yoga with, and he graciously humored me.

I had to say goodbye to Sugar in March of 2014. He was only twenty years old, but he had colic one time too many and I had to make the difficult decision to lay him to rest. Not a day has passed without me thinking of him and my heart remains heavy. Our song came on over the speakers at a horse event I was attending, and I had to push down the surge of emotion welling up in my throat and eyes. I had to stifle my expression of grief. A couple of nights later, I couldn’t sleep, the wounds of my loss freshly opened. Outside my bedroom window, I noticed flashing lights. The lightening bugs were performing their nightly ritual. Every night they’d light up the trees behind my room like a festival light show, but I was rarely awake to enjoy the magical sight. Lying there watching a wonder of nature, I realized Sugar’s still here. He’s in every happy moment I have, every moment of awe and wonder, every moment of love and magic. Love is the greatest gift he gave me and love doesn’t just die. His body is gone, but his soul lives on. I hear him in birdsongs, I feel him in the breeze and sunshine, and I know that wherever he is, he is young again and he is happy.

“Beyond ideas of right and wrong, there is a field. I’ll meet you there.” ~Rumi