19/08/2026
❤️ this from Firenza Park Equine Services with Kathryn Christieson 🐎
Random thoughts on a Wednesday morning…
I keep being given opportunities lately to reflect on this idea, and apparently my brain has decided today is the day to put it into words. One of the things I love most about horses is the way they constantly hold up a mirror to us. They teach us about patience, boundaries, fear, confidence, resilience, communication and, perhaps more than anything, about growth.
Roger has taught me an enormous amount about this. Roger is a pony who, left entirely to his own devices, would choose to do very little. Not because he is naughty or stubborn, but because the world genuinely frightens him. Staying with what he knows feels safe. The interesting thing about Roger is that if I allow him to stay completely within that comfort zone, it doesn’t stay the same size, it gets smaller.
The less he goes out, the harder going out becomes. The less he experiences, the more overwhelming new experiences feel. The more we avoid the things that make him uncomfortable, the more things eventually become uncomfortable. So part of loving Roger is asking him to do things he wouldn’t necessarily choose for himself. Not throwing him in the deep end, not overwhelming him and not ignoring what he’s telling me, but gently saying, I know this is hard, and I also know you’re capable of more than this.
And I think humans are much the same. Comfort is lovely. Rest is necessary. There are absolutely seasons of our lives when surviving is enough. But I don’t think we’re designed to spend our entire lives making everything as easy and comfortable as possible. If we never challenge ourselves, our worlds can become smaller too.
We stop doing something because it feels hard. Then we stop going somewhere because it’s uncomfortable. We find perfectly reasonable excuses for ourselves, and gradually we can build a life around avoiding discomfort rather than pursuing the things that actually matter to us. Sometimes we don’t even notice it happening because each individual decision feels completely justified at the time.
Growth nearly always asks something of us. Sometimes it asks us to be uncomfortable. Sometimes it asks us to admit that we don’t know something. Sometimes it asks us to practise when we’d rather simply be naturally good at it. Sometimes it asks us to find someone who knows more than us and be humble enough to let them teach us.
I’ve realised that this is quite a strong value of mine. If something matters to me, I want to do it well. I have lessons with my horses because I want someone to challenge me and improve my riding. I work alongside professionals when there is something I want to understand better. When I go to the gym, I work with a personal trainer because I want to learn how to use my body properly rather than simply going through the motions.
I don’t expect perfection from myself, but I do expect effort. And when I think about it, I ask the same of my horses. I don’t need them to get everything right. I don’t need them to be the best horse in the arena. But I do want them to try. I want to help them become stronger, more confident and more capable versions of themselves.
And I probably, consciously or unconsciously, value that quality very highly in the humans I surround myself with too. I am drawn to people who are curious, who want to learn, who take responsibility for their own growth, who are willing to be beginners and who can recognise where they’re comfortable and occasionally choose to venture beyond it.
Not because our worth depends on how much we achieve, and not because every moment of life needs to be spent striving for the next thing. There needs to be room for rest, enjoyment and simply being. But I do think there is something incredibly rewarding about discovering just how much more life exists on the other side of “this is easier.”
Roger would probably vote for staying home forever. Thankfully, he doesn’t get to make all of the decisions. And occasionally, I think we probably shouldn’t let the most comfortable version of ourselves make all of ours either.