The Equestrienne

01/08/2026

“Before enlightenment chop wood and carry water, after enlightenment chop wood and carry water”.

This quotes been stuck in my head for weeks, not because of enlightenment but because of grief. I’ve walked through enough kinds of grief to know there isn’t just one version. Losing Kat has been another iteration. Another lesson in what the quote is telling me.

At first I thought it was just responsibility. That before the awareness and after the awareness, life goes on. I’ve searched for understanding, thinking that understanding would free me. Life doesn’t wait for understanding, nor does it wait for grief.

Horses are still hungry. Stables are still dirty. Water buckets are still empty. I do it crying if I need to. But still I do it. I do it because I have to.

The “have to’s” creates the room, cracks in the grief that let the light get through.

The doing. The movement. The responsibility. They don’t let the world stop. They simply continue, and in doing so, quietly invite me to continue too.

The practice doesn’t change. It’s what the practice brings. “Cut wood, carry water” isn’t about enlightenment, it’s about the practice not changing. You do.

Insight doesn’t move you through grief, practice does. Ordinary responsibilities keep us tethered to life when grief would rather untie us.

The practice doesn’t ask whether I’m ready. It simply waits for me to return. Bringing Olympia back into work isn’t the opposite of grieving Kat. It’s part of carrying the water.

It’s the bridge between understanding and becoming. You don’t get to the other side because you finally understand. You get there because you keep cutting wood and carrying water until, one day, you realise you’ve crossed.

26/07/2026

Definite vibe around the place today.

26/07/2026

Yesterday was a week since I made the decision to let Kat go from 3,500kms away. In the end I feel like it was no decision, the choices were taken away from me when she stopped showing signs of improvement and the vets couldn’t get her the hormone she needed to even get a chance.

It’s never easy to make the call. On a good day or a bad day. I wondered if it was right, the blood tests weren’t back yet as it was a weekend. If I was giving up on something that was treatable crossed my brain more than once.

I’d spent days away constantly on the phone between judging classes, the split thoughts going on so long between watching showjumping rounds like a hawk to avoid missing penalties only to step away and focus on what was being said to make sure I didn’t miss a crucial bit of information, ask the right questions to make decisions for her without ever seeing her, only to then call my tribe, those at home with her and those who help me stay stable when the ground I stand on begins to feel shaky. A desperate attempt to not let the situation swallow me whole, after all I’d made a commitment to Katherine Show to judge and sometimes s**t things just happen.

I was almost begging for relief so it could go one way or another. So we could move to a potential future or I could end the pain of uncertainty for both of us.

And so it did.

The pain of making the right decision melded into the pain of letting go. Grief for a life I’d hope we’d have.

I’ve realised grief isn’t just the loss of who or what we love. It’s the loss of the future quietly created. The rides I thought I’d have. The ordinary mornings. The milestones I never knew I’d treasure until they disappeared. Not because the future is owed but because loving her and showing up for her time and time again meant I couldn’t help but imagine one. The future mattered because of what was already there.

So now I’m left with the only thing that was ever truly mine, the way I loved her, the way I showed up for her and the privilege of having shared part of my life with hers.

I would have chosen more time every single time but I would still choose her, the journey we had together, pain, grief and all.

12/07/2026

12/07/2026

Sometimes horses can take you places even when they stay home.

This week we’ve escaped the Central West winter for Katherine Show but first a few days of R&R in Darwin, kicking off with a sunset at Mindil Beach.

07/07/2026

For a long time I have been thinking about getting back into things, everything. Working with the horses, lessons, pilates, living intentionally.

Only there is no “back”, time moves in one direction. We just keep moving forward, carrying everything we’ve learnt along the way.

Maybe that’s why this feels so special. Another horse, taking another quiet step in her journey while I take another in mine.

Nothing extraordinary. No big milestone. Choosing consistency, showing up, being present and trusting that progress will happen.

18/11/2025

Another week chalked up to things this year that haven’t gone to plan. A bad case of sinusitis and I feel like I want to conceed all plans for the rest of the year.

I’ll get back into things I know but for now it’s pretty sucky, just can’t seem to get a break. Guess it will be a few more days at least of napping with Stick and a few more drugs until I can breathe properly without coughing up a lung before I finally can get back into things.

10/11/2025

I blinked and somehow its November, meaning Clint and I have just spent the last week as officials at the Australian Showjumping Championships held at what was a very wet Boneo Park.

It was a huge week but now we are back, rested and dry, I am happy to be able to get back into doing bowen and lessons as well as my own horses.

07/09/2025

While I’ll be out of the saddle for a few months yet I’ve been cleared to begin some groundwork with the horses. I actually got cleared nearly a week ago but I’ve stalled mainly because I am kind of s**tty to be back at groundwork and partially because everyone has had months off which can be challenging enough when I fully trust my body let alone now in my semi quarter somewhat rehabbed state after a major spinal surgery. Ground 0 for everyone once again.

This morning I ripped off the band aid and spent some time with Kat and Friday. I’d like to say the heavens parted, angels sung and it was like none of us had ever had a day off but that would be a lie to say the least.

Kat had a meltdown away from her best friend Bonnie so we found a mid way point where she was away enough and worked on focus and relaxation with rugs on until it was safe for me to take them off, give her a groom and work a little on establishing connection again. Friday was fresh and feeling GOOD. She needed to move and move she did… in every direction.

But we got through, both girls settled and I feel good that I got out there again. While many would be aghast with all the dangers about working unbroken and fresh horses less than 12 weeks post surgery the reality is I’ve been working towards this for years.

As my body has failed I’ve gotten smarter, I can’t rely on brute strength or force to train so I have found other ways. I keep myself safe at all times with clear boundaries, I am well aware how soft and fragile I am. I work on connection and relationship so the horses turn to me when the pressure increases rather than away and consequently over or into me.

While today wasn’t exactly a remarkable day in terms of externally recognised progress, it is news worthy nonetheless. Newsworthy in a way that 12 weeks after last touching a horse with any intent of training or performance, I can with a limited physical capacity, safely handle and train an unbroken warmblood and a very fresh chestnut part arab pony mare and for that I am so grateful.

07/09/2025

As the days grow longer and the temperatures get warmer I’m struggling more with rehab as I notice the absence of riding and horses in my life. It felt easier not to miss being out it in the midst of a freezing and wet Central West winter, even if we don’t get the snow and ice of our northern neighbours.

Wobbling my way through lunges loading the wrong leg, I wonder how this body of mine ever did ride. Uncovering a few unconcious expectations along the way. It seems its easier to imagine how easy it would be to move again while still under restrictions but the reality is unsurprisingly different.

So yesterday on my stupid walk for my stupid mental health and stupid tight legs, I got to the end of the road and turned left instead of right. I walked somewhere new. Went further than I have done before. I watched the sun set through the trees and embraced the hard and the suck. It didn’t feel like it then but today it has made all the difference.