Dedication to Kat

We lost our sweet Kat this past week, and I’m not sure there are words that could ever truly capture the way my grief has been moving through this recent loss. It hasn’t been linear. It hasn’t been tidy. It has simply been coming in waves — sometimes soft, sometimes heavy — asking only to be authentically felt as time carries me forward without her physical presence beside us.

Over the last few years, I have developed a beautiful relationship with grief and death. I’ve learned to see those moments not as endings, but as transitions… as shifts in form rather than a disappearance of love. My beliefs, and my quiet knowing that there is more beyond what we can perceive in this lifetime, have helped me move through loss with a sense of peace.

And yet, Kat’s passing has touched something deeper.

I’ve noticed the egoic thoughts arising: Did I go enough? She needed more time. She still had so much more to give.

And in the stillness of this past week, as I’ve sat with both the ache and the love, I’ve come to understand that those thoughts may be true — just not in the way my mind was originally presenting.

Perhaps she did need more time. Just not here.

I have come to believe that in leaving her physical body so unexpectedly, she has been gifted the space to step into something limitless. Into a place where time is no longer measured in moments, and where the giving of her authentic self is no longer filtered through a body that had known so much hardship. A body that, through years of neglect, may have felt like a barrier to the fullness of who she really was.

Here, she did what she could with what she had. There, she is unbound.

And maybe this transition wasn’t something taken from her… but instead, something being returned to her. A release from the limitations that once held her back, allowing her soul to move in the fullness of its power — exactly as it was always meant to.

I sat in meditation the other day and she came to me. I could see her body moving through the energetic landscape with ease and speed, her mane and tail flowing with power and grace. She felt powerful. She felt strong. She felt at peace.

I know she is always with us because I can already feel her in the energy around me. Touching each moment with blessings and love. Divinely guiding us from afar. This morning was an affirmation of her continued presence, as I received an email from a kind soul reaching out to offer support to our sanctuary. Through our conversation and brief meeting, something within me was reignited. It was a reminder to remain in alignment with who I am and what I believe in. A reminder to come back to my body and my connection to the horses.

My heart still has moments of sadness. Moments of missing her, and all those we have lost, so deeply. I think it always will. Yet my heart also feels lighter. More open.

As we continue forward, taking each step toward the expansion that’s calling us, I trust that we are always being divinely guided — by the herd who walks beside us now, by the souls who have transitioned on, and by the quiet, loving presence of the guides that surround us each day.

And in those moments when I feel uncertain or untethered, there is always an invitation to pause… to breathe deeply, root my feet into the earth, and listen for the wisdom carried on the wind.

Rest in Peace Sweet Kat, We Love You.