Truth

Today is Martin Luther King Jr. Day, and Tolstoy perfectly sums up the meaning with today’s wise thought: “You can kill those who speak the truth, but once it is spoken, the truth will live forever.”

In our current political climate, the truth is hard to decipher among the many lies being told. Whom do you believe? I suppose many pick one side to take the easy way out. Believe whatever they say. But there are pitfalls to that choice, such as failing to really understand what’s being fed to you. Failing to use critical thinking to figure out the reason behind their words and their motivation.

Some people choose to close their ears and not listen to anything. Whether it be lies or the truth, they prefer silence and to live within their own bubble where they find their truth. Maybe that brings them peace, which isn’t such a bad thing, but if everyone did that, then the lies would prevail and truth would no doubt be buried under evil intent.

Tolstoy continues: “The truth is inherently simple and clear. A lie, however, is always complicated and requires endless words and excuses.”

I recall the struggle to tell the truth when I was a child. One particular time it was over a flake of hay. My horse became colicky, and when my trainer asked me why she had so much uneaten hay in her stall, I denied giving her extra even though I had gone up to the loft and thrown down a flake, thinking I was making her happy. Then he looked at me wisely and said, “We got new hay yesterday, fresh alfalfa. It probably made her stomach hurt when she ate too much..”

I was deeply ashamed to have not only lied to him but to have also made my horse sick. It was a life lesson. A lie not only can hurt your soul when you tel it because you know at the moment it’s wrong, but it can also hurt others and create many more problems.

Thankfully, he knew the truth, gave her some medicine, collected the extra hay from her stall, and she soon felt better.

Our world is filled with people who lie, and now with AI consuming our lives, it’s even harder for truth to prevail. Today, I will pause in my work and think about all that MLK did in speaking his truth and fighting for civil rights and equality. “The greatest obstacle to understanding truth is not the lie itself, but the fact that the lie tries to look like the truth.”

Red and Gray Horse

This painting by Alfred “Alex” Gockel caught my eye as I scrolled through my emails yesterday. It’s part of an upcoming online auction that ends tomorrow. I’ve always been attracted to colorful and modern art, and, of course, anything horse-related is a bonus.

Even though the last thing I need to do right now is purchase art, I registered to bid. I’m in the process of downsizing my life and the possessions around me, but something about this painting touched me. Perhaps it’s the fact that my first horse was a chestnut, and my last horse (most likely) is a gray. I’m also quite fond of this artist’s style, which reminds me of my early favorites Matisse and Van Gogh.

I’ll likely keep an eye on the bidding tomorrow as the day unfolds. I can’t say whether I will press the buy button, but I just might. This isn’t a piece of art to purchase as an investment; rather, it’s to simply appreciate and enjoy for how it makes you feel in the moment. I would be happy to see this painting every day to remind me of the past and the present and how horses have made my life so rich. Not rich in monetary meaning, but in allowing me to have a passion throughout my life. In reality, horses have prevented me from being “rich” since I spent most of my disposable income on them. But I’m blessed to have enjoyed their presence and companionship, which means more to me than the numbers in my bank account.

Thoughts

“All human action depends on our thoughts.” That’s Tolstoy’s message today, and it gives me much to ponder.

He says our real lives unfold when we’re alone with our thoughts. Last night I woke up at 3:40 a.m., when Poppy needed to go out. Afterward, I spent more than an hour tossing and turning and thinking while trying to fall sleep again. Reflecting on my thoughts after reading Tolstoy’s words, I do understand.

When I lie awake at night, I’m often thinking about what I should or could do tomorrow or in the future. I consider what steps I need to take moving forward, whether that’s an upcoming deadline, next week’s schedule or even where I want to be at the end of the year.

I do have some goals that I’m working toward, and I think my thoughts do help propel me toward them. I rarely share my thoughts with others, unless I’m relatively confident that I’m firm in my commitments. I’m not sure if everyone is like me, but I suppose they are. As Tolstoy notes, other people don’t or at least shouldn’t be the driving force of our actions. They can help us fine-tune them, but to be confident and happy in our direction, it’s up to us to choose the way.

Which way am I headed in 2026 and beyond? That’s still dwelling in my thoughts. There are lots of options that I’ll continue to weigh as I drift into sleep.

Trust

The eye of a trusting horse is soft and dark, and that’s what I see in this photo of my horse that my friend Tom Brennan sent last night.

Tom’s student is leasing Sunny through the spring, and I’m grateful that he’s under the care of someone I’ve known for more than 30 years and trust. I’ve had Sunny since he was a yearling, and this June he’ll be 10. It’s hard to believe so much time has passed since I first photographed him as a foal. He’s grown up to be a trustworthy and quiet horse, quite unlike he was in his youth.

Early on, I wasn’t sure how he would turn out. He was the most difficult in the crop of 3-year-olds for colt starter Jose Alejos. He was virtually uncatchable, shy and spooky. It took Jose two solid days to get Sunny to submit to him, and watching them work it out was stressful. I knew Jose’s reputation was golden, but still the process was hard to watch, as two strong wills converged.

Sunny was still a challenge throughout his youth, with a penchant for spooking and bolting. But, when he turned 6, everything changed. After a solid year of showing, trail riding and lots of flatwork, he began to relax and become the quietest and most trustworthy horse I’ve ever owned.

Some of my favorite memories of our years together were the long trail rides we took through the Francis Marion National Forest, where just the two of us would explore, trotting and cantering down long sand paths to see where they took us. I’d sometimes bring my binoculars and bird watch while we walked, and all but once Sunny was perfectly behaved. The exception was one day when he spooked at some sound in the bushes and spun me off. Thankfully, he stopped and stood waiting while I got up and remounted.

I miss those days with him but know that it was time for him to explore on his own and find someone else to teach. He now has a 12-year-old girl to love him and learn from him how to ride, show and trust a horse. I see in his eye that he’s content in his world and with Tom, and that says it all.

Coincidences...or Not?

Are there coincidences, or is the universe steering us in some way? That’s a question I’ve pondered a lot the past couple of years. And it’s never been more on my mind than this week.

The evening I received news of Brunello’s illness and wrote his obituary the following day (see yesterday), my longtime friend Teresa Ramsay began sending me memories from her scrapbooks. Over the past year, she’d occasionally send me a photo she’d taken of me many years ago that she thought I might like. Some of the photos I remember, but others I don’t recall seeing before.

Then, last night, this collage from Middleburg Life showed up in my messages just when Lisa Towell texted to let me know that Brunello was stable, and the obituary I wrote could wait.

I have no memory of this collage being published, and the photo included of me was the first time I’d shown with Finally Farm on the Winter Equestrian Festival in Wellington, Florida. It was a special time for me. I had a catch ride aboard a sale horse named French Copper that the Towells were selling for her owner. I don’t think they expected much from me, and I recall their surprise and elation as I earned great scores and ribbons in the Adult Amateur Hunters among a competitive group.

At the time, I was a staff reporter for the Chronicle, and I had a very small salary. To show at WEF was a huge deal and a dream come true. I stayed with my friend Carrie in her RV, a way for me to save money but also to spend time with one of my best friends. After my first successful day of showing, I remember laying awake that night worrying that it was a fluke. “How could I do it again?” I barely slept.

But, the next day went just as well, and the mare ended up finding a new owner shortly afterward. My catch riding career was born, and showing with Finally Farm became a regular occurrence that brought me much success and helped me become a better horsewoman.

I believe the universe does help us along in our lives in some way, steering or influencing our course and then sometimes reminding us of where we’ve been in mysterious ways. I’m currently working on just such a project in a completely different realm, but more and more often I’m seeing these mysteries play out in my daily life. Perhaps it’s because I’m more attuned to it all and opening my mind to accept, but whatever the reason, I’m grateful.

Ode to Brunello

Last night I received a text message from Lisa Towell letting me know that Brunello’s health was failing. She asked me if I would prepare his obituary, to which I readily agreed. So, this morning I spent a few hours researching and reminiscing about the many years I watched “Ike” and Liza Boyd perform together. My first memory of them was during the Winter Equestrian Festival circuit, just after Ike was imported. Liza showed him in the Second Year Green Hunters, and he was still a bit too jumpery for top ribbons, but you could tell he was going to be something special.

Over the years, I was fortunate to be a part of Ike’s team, photographing and writing about him while cheering him on and joining in the celebrations after his many victories. Many of the photos of Ike on their website are mine, and this one in particular is a favorite. Ike and Liza clear the 4’6” final oxer in the rain on the way to victory in the 2014 Platinum Performance/USHJA International Hunter Derby Championship.

I visited him several times during his retirement, where he looked fat, fuzzy and happy in his grass paddock in Camden. If every horse could be as fortunate as Ike, they’d be lucky indeed.

Now, I await the update on Ike’s health after the veterinarians attended to him today. Whatever his fate, I’m sure he’ll have a smooth transition surrounded by those who love and adore him. And if he’s able to rally for more grazing time, I’ll be thrilled and relieved to shelve his obituary for another day.

A Year of Books

I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t surrounded by books. My first bedroom included a white-and-gold bedroom set with a desk and hutch along with a free-standing, matching book shelf. I kept it full of books, and one of my favorite elementary school memories is walking down rows of long tables set up in the gymnasium when the Scholastic Book Fair arrived.

Earlier, we had been given small catalogs of books for our grade-level, which we took home to our parents. Together, we checked the boxes on the ones that we wanted to order, and our parents slipped a check into the built-in envelope. Then, the day came when all the books were assembled and set out in piles to be picked up.

As I walked down the aisle looking for my pile (usually among the tallest!), I was so excited to feel the new, smooth covers and smell the paper fresh from the printer. Fortunately for me, my parents didn’t hesitate to provide books throughout my childhood. From trips to the library and bookstores, to Christmases and birthdays, my love for reading was honed and fully supported.

I’m currently less than a mile from a relatively new bookstore here called The Archive. While I love that I can visit regularly when walking Poppy, it’s also a bit troublesome. Each time I go, I find another book to add to my collection. My TBR (to be read) pile is now probably the tallest it’s ever been, and I just purchased a new bookshelf to better accommodate them.

My goal is to read a book a week, with work and travel allowing me some flexibility. I also started a new reading journal, which will allow me to track and remember the ones I really enjoy. The Archive posted Zodiac Signs for Reading Resolutions this week, which couldn’t be closer to the truth. As a Gemini, I currently have three books going, and once I finish these I will follow their advice and go with “depth not distraction.” As eager as I am to jump into the many new titles on my shelf, I know I should slow down and savor the stories and writing. Quality over quantity; more isn’t always better!

Kennedy Center Memory

I awoke this morning to the news that the Washington National Opera was leaving The Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts in Washington, D.C. after 70 years. The end of an era in so many ways.

For me, the news evoked strong feels of nostalgia. One of my fondest memories with my father was attending my first opera there back in the early 1980s when he took me to see The Daughter of the Regiment by Gaetano Donizetti. It was a night I will never forget. From the fancy dress I wore, to the second-row seats to my first taste of Champagne during intermission while standing on the terrace overlooking the city and the Potomac River, there were so many firsts. But perhaps the most memorable was transitioning from a young child to one on the precipice of adulthood while surrounded by the aura of the Kennedy Center and our country’s history.

Growing up, I wasn’t really into music, although I did play the clarinet through elementary and middle school (and still have that cherished instrument my father purchased for me). He was an opera buff and a serious one. He collected operas and had hundreds of albums and later CDs and DVDs, books, programs and knew many of them by heart. After he passed, I donated the collection to the College of Charleston so others could enjoy and learn from it. He regularly encouraged us (OK, sometimes forced) family to watch them on TV and video, and I gradually learned to appreciate and enjoy many.

He purchased season tickets to the WNO for years during our time in the DMV, and he and my mother went regularly. But one winter night she was unable to attend, so he took me on the 30-minute drive from our home in Maryland to the Kennedy Center. Our seats were so close to the stage I could feel the vibrations of the marching and dancing as they performed and admire their makeup and costume details.

During one march, the lead Marie stamped her foot and pounded her rifle onto the stage, and it unexpectedly broke in half. She startled for a quick second, but then laughed and picked up the pieces and kept singing and marching. I’m not sure why, but that incident truly impacted the perfectionist in me, and I think of it often. When something doesn’t go quite right, keep going and laugh it off. Not everything goes perfectly, and a sense of humor can make all the difference.

You never know when one average day will end up becoming a vivid memory for life, and my first experience at the Kennedy Center was just that. My father is no longer with me, but in my heart we will share that special night together forever.

Judgment

“When a dog is bitten by another dog, the dog bites back.” This the first sentence for Tolstoy’s January 11th “Wise Thoughts for Every Day.”

Poppy is typically an easy-going Alfa female. She loves most other dogs, although she does show an extreme dislike for a few dogs that walk by our house. Although they look innocuous to me (a pitbull cross and a German shepherd), not so much to her. The moment they come into view, her hackles rise and she’s in attack mode. She barks and whines, and I know if I let her out she’d charge them even though she’s never met them face-to-face.

My dog-park neighbors and I have talked about how some dogs seem to have a strong negative presence, and other dogs pick up on that energy. Even when I try and placate her, she continues to display agitation. But when other new dogs walk by, sometimes she simply wags her tail and whines in eagerness to meet them.

Tolstoy talks about judgment today and how “an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and a life for a life” isn’t human law but made by animals.

I firmly believe that giving people the benefit of the doubt and prefer not to judge so quickly. Some people have an uncanny inner sense and can tell if a person is good or evil with a five-minute conversation. That’s not me. But, as a close friend says, “Most people are generally bad, and you would do well to remember that.”

Maybe that’s true. Maybe I should take some lessons from Poppy and my friend. When Poppy does “bite back,” maybe there is a good reason. But for now, I’ll continue to not rush to judgment but perhaps shorten my timeline a bit from a 10-minute conversation to nine minutes.

White Point Garden Stroll

Winter in Charleston is mostly wonderful. Yesterday, the high was 79 degrees without humidity or bugs, and it was the perfect day to explore the renovated White Point Garden on the Battery. My friend Howard and I took a two-hour stroll along the waterfront and through the streets South of Broad talking about the future and the past. It was such an unusual and enjoyable day that I didn’t expect when I met him to discuss our next project.

Life can be surprising that way. You simply go about your daily business, expecting to follow the usual schedule or routine, and suddenly there’s a choice. Do you continue on with the familiar or take the path less traveled?

Recently, I’ve faced a plethora of paths, some of which are comforting and well trod, while others are dimly lit, with shadows and hidden turns. I thought that 2026 would bring me some firm direction, but so far it’s been rocky, with some major hurdles just ahead on the horizon.

But, while walking with Howard I found some compass points in the wise words he shared. You can map out where you want to go, but sometimes the traffic or detours take you in an altogether different direction. It may reveal some exciting new adventures but could also take you into uncharted territory, where you may find “bad,” and feel compelled to do a U-turn.

On my drive home that evening, as I waited in traffic to head back over the Ravenel Bridge, I thought about our conversation and where it might lead. While it likely won’t be straightforward, it could result in something new and exciting. And that’s always a reason to never stop exploring.

Of Greed and the Soul

Today, Tolstoy talks of Greed and Wealth in his “Wise Thoughts for the Day.” He says, “People who spend all their lives acquiring wealth will never be satisfied.” How apropos for today’s world and the current administration in power. I decline to talk detailed politics on my blog, but I will mention it now and then if it’s pertinent to my story. Today, it’s on my mind after reading the morning newspapers and columnists.

For me, money has been important because my passion for horses is expensive. I’ve worked hard my entire life—from my first jobs of de-tassling corn in sixth-grade and making pizzas at Jerry’s Subs and Pizzas during high school—to help pay for my riding lessons and showing. And, I will admit, over time I’ve come to realize you truly get what you pay for. There are exceptions, of course. But even my father, who was notorious for his frugality, knew when to spend more money now for a greater return later. He drove Japaneses imports before they were common and didn’t hesitate to blow the budget on season tickets to the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts. (Note, I used the true title of the institution.)

Over the years, I have splurged on special occasions and for good reasons. There are times and places when a special memory or experience deserves to be recognized and commemorated. I wrote an article once about a woman who swam with wild dolphins. Her story touched my heart, and I even wrote a follow-up piece as she continued to meet them to swim while battling cancer. Sadly, she lost the fight and passed away a few years later. Last fall, I ran into her widow while at a horse show, and while we caught up he noticed a bracelet I was wearing and asked if I might like to buy her collection of Hermes bracelets for a fair price.

I really didn’t need to spend money on jewelry at that moment, but without hesitating I said yes. It wasn’t because I wanted to impress anyone by wearing designer jewelry. I was touched and honored that he thought enough of me to ask.

Tolstoy says, “You must remember that life is a lesson. This lesson is about how to nourish your soul.” I now proudly wear her bracelets and think of the two of them each time I slide one on my wrist. They are beautiful, but more importantly, thanks to the wonderful memories I have of her, my soul is happier.

Cheers to Great Neighbors

When neighbors are friends, it takes where you live to another level. I’ve been fortunate that my parents chose a wonderful place to build their final home in 1989. Molasses Creek is a hidden gem, tucked just a walk away from the Arthur Ravenel bridge that connects Mount Pleasant to Charleston. It’s tucked between several larger enclaves of homes and the marshy tributaries of Molasses Creek, and if you didn’t know it was here you’d drive right on by while casually admiring the towering oak trees that dominate the entrance.

I began visiting my parents immediately after they moved in, escaping the frigid winters of Wisconsin to spend holidays with them. I recall walking on nearby Sullivan’s Island beach regularly on Christmas breaks, reveling in the warmth and watching my dogs play in the surf. After I relocated to Virginia, I continued to drive down whenever I could to visit and enjoy the city.

When I got engaged, my mother insisted I have a wedding, and she offered to host it in Mount Pleasant. To be honest, I didn’t want an elaborate, traditional wedding. I’d been to plenty of weddings recently, and they all followed the same script, which I sought to avoid. In the end, my mother and aunt hired a boat and a live band to take us out to the middle of Charleston Harbor, where we were married as the sun set and the city gleamed orange and gold in the background.

Many friends and neighbors here celebrated with us, and if I was considered a visitor before the wedding, afterward I was family. We came down so often after my son was born that he made many good friends in the neighborhood, most of whom are his best pals today.

Fast forward to 2021, when I moved in to take care of my mom. I had an immediate core group of friends here, and we’ve only grown closer. Tonight, four of us started a girls’ night out for dinner, where we talked about trying different restaurants in this foodie city on a regular basis. Two of us have been in the neighborhood for 37 years (the first houses built here), another 35 years. We are all a stone’s throw from one another, know where each other’s hidden keys are, join each other’s parties, and enjoy our afternoon dog park breaks in the common lot.

Although I loved Virginia and living in horse country for 30+ years, I didn’t realize how much I missed having friends as neighbors as I did growing up. While we’ve all gotten more addicted to screens, remote work and distant friends over the past few decades, I’m so glad that I’ve turned the clock back to when we can raise a glass and toast to great neighbors in real life.

Happy 91

My mother turned 91, and we celebrated her birthday today with friends and family to mark the occasion. She didn’t want a big party or celebration, so we kept it small and relaxed. “I can’t believe I’m 91,” she kept saying as the day unfolded. “I don’t want to think about it.”

In fact, I probably think more about her age than she does. She’s defied the odds to live to this age after smoking more than half of her lifetime, drinking her fair share (well, honestly, more) with my father and their lively group of lifelong friends, and mostly following an upside-down food pyramid.

These days, her favorite foods vary and can change on a whim, but she basically survives on coffee and sugar. As her primary caretaker, one of my roles is to make healthy meals in the evenings and keep the pantry and fridge stocked with foods she will eat during the day, and that’s a continuing challenge.

For example, at the moment she’s devouring Publix Volcano Roll dip, ham and cheese sandwiches (no crusts, please), popcorn and bananas. Last month, it was cherry yogurt, apples, candied pecans and Wickles pickles. So, consequently, there are now a half-dozen yogurts languishing in the fridge waiting for someone else to eat them, two jars of pickles in the pantry on hold, and I took the old apples to the barn this week to feed the horses.

But, if that’s the biggest challenge I face caring for a mother with Alzheimer’s, I’m one lucky daughter. I’m fortunate to have a strong circle of supporters on this journey, including my husband and son. They allow me to live a semblance of a normal life and continue to travel for work when needed and take the occasional girls’ night out.

I’m coming up on five years of holding down the fort, and while I never thought I’d be living here full-time and taking care of my mother, it’s been rewarding and enjoyable. I’ve made new friends and clients and enjoy living in a wonderful neighborhood. Of course, I miss Virginia and my friends there, but seeing them at shows and keeping in touch on the phone and social media has kept us connected.

This experience has also helped me to realize how important family is in our lives, and caring for someone who cared for you is a blessing. It may not always be easy (OK, it’s pretty damn hard sometimes) or how you thought your life would unfold, but it’s a choice I’m happy I made. Happy Birthday mom, and may there be many more!

A Challenging Return

Fourteen years ago, I was a different person. I know that’s a given, that we’re all evolving over the years and day-to-day we change. But, back then I really was different. After four+ years of hard work, I’d earned my black belt in Taekwondo, and my body was tough and strong. I could easily do 50 push ups, jump and kick with power and accuracy, and I was fitter than I’d ever been in my life. I even won trophies for my innate ability to break boards!

But then life got in the way, and I quit to pursue other interests and focus more on establishing my fledgling media business. My red-white-and blue gym bag, filled with my belt, uniform, and sparring gear, gathered dust in the corner of the basement storage room. I would gaze at it every once in a while when I went searching for something, but I never did unzip it again.

Fast forward to today, when I finally walked into a new dojang at Charleston Taekwondo after contemplating restarting for the past six months. It wasn’t easy going into the bright, clean gymnasium by myself and facing an unfamiliar group of people. In fact, it was downright intimidating. I had watched Youtube videos to try and recall some of the blocks and forms, but I didn’t even remember exactly how to tie my belt.

But, I was warmly welcomed by Master Luke, who gave me an overview of the program and confirmed that I wouldn’t lose my black belt and have to start all over. “You worked hard for that belt,” he said. “You can wear it as you get back up to speed and continue on.”

My introductory Family Class had about 15 participants, with a half dozen black belts and other mixed colors. I stood at the back of the class following along as best I could with their routine. As we warmed up, did some line drills and exercises, my mind and body slowly started to fall into rhythm and muscle memory returned. It was hard. I had to push myself to finish some of the drills with my legs burning. Master Amelia, a young college student, was my partner at one point and was very encouraging, which broke the ice in my mind. “I can do this again,” I thought.

As I drove home that evening, I still had the adrenaline rush flowing through my veins, even though the lactic acid was already starting to pulse. I know I need to do this. I’m soft, and without a horse, I’m not riding as often. I no longer want to feel like my body is going downhill, so it’s my job to do something about it. It’s time to reconnect with the stronger me; even if I can no longer turn back the clock, at least I can slow down the process. I may only be able to do 25 push ups in the future, but that’s 24 more than I can do now.

Preparing for the Fire Horse

The Chinese Year of the Horse begins on the Chinese New Year, which falls on February 17. While many people are already celebrating and noting that 2026 is the Year of the Horse, we really have more than a month before it officially begins.

I was born in the year of the Wood Snake, and this is actually quite appropriate for my personality. The traits are that I’m strategic, thoughtful, observant. I prefer planning, subtle influence and value privacy, depth and control. I move slowly and deliberately.

I’m also a fan of snakes, and well before I knew my zodiac sign I had an aquarium of pet garter snakes in my bedroom when I was in elementary school. I also had a bad habit of searching for and catching wild snakes. One regularly retold family story is of my near miss in Northern Michigan on Bois Blanc Island where we took summer trips at my aunt and uncle’s cabin. One day while out exploring, I captured a snake and brought it back for them all to see. I don’t recall exactly how it went down, but my uncle quietly said to me, “Tricia, please let that one go.” So, I gave it one final turn in my hands, and placed it on the ground, where it slithered away. I later found out that I’d caught a northern water snake, a venomous snake that, thankfully, didn’t bite me. I’m pretty sure my later walks were accompanied by a guardian, which back in the ‘70s, was atypical. Children were generally let run amok back then, which was why I recall my childhood so fondly, and also why I sometimes reflect on my good fortune to survive to adulthood.

But back to preparing for the Year of the Fire Horse, which is described as fast, bold, outspoken, restless. It favors action over analysis. In public, it’s expressive, impatient and moves quickly and visibly. This creates tension, but also creative friction. Kind of the exact opposite of me.

So, imagine a wood snake and fire horse meeting on a wooded trail. The snake would likely move out of the way on the horse’s approach, but what if one side of the trail had a steep drop and the other side was a rocky outcrop. In that case, the snake would have no choice but to encounter the horse face-to-face.

This mismatch may result in the snake feeling rushed or chaotic in its effort to escape. There would be pressure to make a quick decision, take a chance on falling down the cliff or being trampled if no purchase was found in the rocks. The snake would be unable to make a plan, and its emotional reaction would be intense. The danger for the snake is feeling pushed into decisions or overexposed.

On the positive side, the Fire Horse energy could pull the snake out of over-analysis and help it to bring long-held plans into motion. Maybe it was meandering down the trail without a destination. Now, it had to decide immediately whether to sunbathe on the rocks that afternoon or head down to the stream for a swim. The immediate response would reward quiet confidence paired with decisive action.

As it turns out, snakes often win in Fire Horse years by letting go of perfection, acting when intuition says “yes,” even if conditions aren’t ideal. (A good thing!). The best strategy for a snake in a Fire Horse Year is to act on well-prepared plans you’ve been refining, choose one or two bold moves, but not too many, protect your energy and boundaries, and use your natural diplomacy to smooth conflict.

This year, snakes are to avoid rash financial decisions, overcommitting socially or professionally, and avoid power struggles (Fire Horse energy escalates quickly).

So, as I await the true start of the Fire Horse year, I’ll ruminate on these positive outcomes and cautionary advice to map out the year ahead. Today, Monday January 5, is back to work after a lovely two-week break, and we’ll see what 2026 brings.

Just Start

I read a great article over the weekend titled “The Most Important Question of your Life” by Mark Manson. He talks about how to achieve happiness but in reverse. “What pain do you want in your life? What are you willing to struggle for?”

In short, what do you care enough about to hurt for?

Each choice we make, especially when starting something new or changing a bad habit, requires a struggle. A beginner in anything will struggle to learn and, if they are so motived, then master the new task. Someone who seeks to break an addiction will struggle to change patterns in their life. Neither are easy, and nor should they be. The harder the challenge, the more satisfaction you have in the outcome and the happier you will be to have positively enhanced or changed your life.

When I was a young adult, I started my career with a salary that was barely above minimum wage. But I had a passion for horses, which are expensive to purchase and keep. I was determined to live my dream, though, and after about a year at my new job I decided to buy a horse. My first stop was to the Middleburg Bank, where I sat down with a banker who went over my finances and budget and decided I was capable of a $5,000 loan for a horse.

With that budget in mind, I went off to search for my dream horse. I learned a lot through the process, not only of turning a fantasy into reality but also how to sacrifice today for what I wanted tomorrow. Everything I did in those days was on the economy plan, from keeping my horse at a self-care barn where I did all of the work, to giving up expensive dinners out, designer clothes, having multiple roommates and really giving up most anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary.

The struggle was real—riding in the 6 p.m. darkness in an open field with a headlamp or under the light of the moon in frigid January or arriving at the barn at 6 a.m. before work in hot, humid August to ride—but the results were what I was willing to struggle for. I lived for those rides, for the improvement in me and my horse and our growing partnership. I fantasized of the ribbons and victory gallops we’d achieve, and each day I cleaned his stall or groomed him, I knew I was one step closer. And, now, the memories of that horse and the years we spent together are cherished many decades later along with the knowledge that I am able and willing to hurt for something I truly want to achieve.

As Manson says, “our struggles determine our successes…so choose your struggles wisely.”

It’s a new year with new challenges, and I will remember that each day there will be another challenge to overcome on the way to a greater reward and happiness.

Life Choices

Faith is Tolstoy’s theme for today. “If people believe that they can please God through rituals and prayers alone—not by deeds—then they have lied to both God and themselves.”

Over the years, I’ve often been referred by the nickname “Switzerland” due to my tendency to be neutral. I prefer not to “kick the beehive” as one of my previous employers was known to do on a regular basis. I think I was likely born this way because I’ve never been one to create drama or pick fights. That’s not to say that I wouldn’t stand up for myself, though.

I was actually sent home from elementary school for punching a boy in the nose during second grade recess. His name was Ross, and on a wet winter day just after Christmas he ran by me and pulled my brand-new wool hat off my head, throwing it into a puddle and soaking the pom-pom.

I retaliated by chasing him down, jumping on his back and giving him a bloody nose just as red as the bright rainbow colors on my muddy hat. I loved that hat, and it was a cherished possession of my childhood, along the same lines at the powder blue JanSport backpack I also received for Christmas one year around that time.

I recall being punished for fighting but not for standing up for myself. My parents asked me to apologize to Ross the next day, which I did. We were again friends but did give each other a wide berth for a while. I learned a valuable lesson, though, and never again hit anyone (other than my brother) in anger.

Much later in life I did punch people again, but it was on the way to achieving my black belt in Taekwondo. I was faithful to my pledge to not hit with anger in my heart but to learn how to defend myself with honor. It was a bad deed that turned into a valuable life lesson, and Switzerland was born.

One Soul

The soul of a human being has been on my mind today. A life is precious, and we are all so very fortunate to be here on earth. Each individual’s creation was a miracle of chance, of a singular moment in time when everything came together at the perfect moment.

Today Tolstoy talks about the Soul and how understanding ourselves involves realizing that life is not within the body but within the soul.

However, when the body is no longer functional, where does the soul go? When we die, what happens?

Tolstoy says our souls are the most powerful things in the world? When a life is ended, though, does that power just disappear?

These are thoughts people have likely had for as long as we’ve been a species.

What I love about Tolstoy’s words are that we are One Soul in All. “We are united with all people and all creatures. Thus, we must treat as we would like to be treated not only other people but animals as well.”

He goes on to say “God lives in every kind person.” I like to think that’s no matter one’s religion. If you’re a kind person and do good deeds, you’re one with whatever god you choose as well as the earth.

Souls are lost every day to natural and tragic deaths. Some are unfair and premature, while others are gifts to end suffering.

I have witnessed both losses in the past week, one whose life was well lived and the other whose life was taken unexpectedly during a tragic accident. You hope to be the former, but we just never know when our soul will be called to the next journey.

Wise Thoughts for Every Day

Leo Tolstoy’s wise words have been cherished by readers all over the world for more than a century. While going through my father’s books after his death, I found a small, red hardcover titled “Wise Thoughts for Every Day.” The subtitle is: On God, Love, Spirit, and Living a Good Life.

I set it aside to keep, and eventually it landed on my own bookshelf. As I was reorganizing my office at the end of the year, I pulled it out and sat down with a cup of coffee to find out what prompted my dad to have it in his library. It didn’t take me beyond the introduction to understand.

My father didn’t believe in religion, although he would say to anyone who asked, he was a Druid. As a child, we did attend a Unitarian church briefly, which in retrospect was most likely because it was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright and a beautiful place to visit and meditate in the gardens.

After my elementary school years, we were on our own. My father encouraged us to explore faith and attend church with our friends if we were invited and curious. Our next-door neighbors were extremely religious and often asked me to their Baptist church with them and to summer Bible Camp, which their mom hosted. I don’t remember much about it other than the craft projects we did, which often focused on friendship and memorizing Bible passages for colorful patches. It obviously didn’t stick.

During high school, we invited a friend of mine to live with us for a year so she could be closer to our horse trainer and her horse. She was Jewish, so I learned about her religion through osmosis. My dad made her feel most welcome in our home and even celebrated Hanukkah with her, lighting the menorah he purchased for the occasion. I also attended my neighbor’s bat mitzvah around that time in a gorgeous temple and was impressed by her recitation of the Torah and the mesmerizing tradition of the ceremony.

But over time, organized religion has never been a part of my life. As with many horse people, we work and show on Sundays, and attending a church service just isn’t on our schedule. Do I believe in God? That’s a good question. I believe that there’s a higher power out there, but I don’t think it’s one god. There are countless gods in history, from the Greeks and Romans to the present day. How can one be “the one?”

With that in mind, picking up Tolstoy’s book and reading through it brought me back to those days of curiosity. It’s not so much choosing one religion to believe in but instead living a good, honorable life and having faith in always striving to be the best person you can be. And that’s why I believe my father kept this book on his shelf.

As I learned, this was the last project Tolstoy embarked upon before his death. The third book of a trilogy, it offers readers a sequence of thoughts for each day of the year. In his introduction, he hopes “the readers will experience the same benevolent and uplifting feeling that I experienced while working on its creation…” I’m going to keep this book front and center on my desk this year and read a passage each day as Tolstoy intended to discover if his thoughts will help me also live an even better life.

My ChatGPT Year in Review

I began using ChatGPT and other AI software last year, and I have to admit it’s been a game changer for me. In addition to using it to design a coloring book that I sold on Amazon, I also dabbled in editing photos, condensing interviews and fact checking. It’s also come in handy when decluttering to find out what’s worthy of donating, selling or trashing.

During the holidays I received a ChatGPT year in review, which was generated based on my use of the program. It’s quite interesting that it captured so precisely my life in 2025 in such a creative rendition.

Yes, I asked a lot of questions about our Alaskan cruise while researching which excursions to do in the various cities we visited. I also purchased two new FujiFilm cameras this year (as well as a new lens after accidentally breaking one in half), spent ample time visiting my new favorite bookstore, The Archive, where I walk Poppy to peruse the new releases, grab a latte and chat with friends.

And, of course, what year would be complete without attending and reporting on various USHJA events around the country, including the International Hunter Derby Championships. While I haven’t competed in the championships, I admire those who do and interview and photograph them each year. For many decades I did dream of competing there, but that goal has slowly slipped away as time, money and other commitments have curtailed such major ambitions. These days I’m content to enjoy the horses at home and show at a lower level simply for the enjoyment and camaraderie. The ribbon ChatGPT placed on the desk reminds me of past achievements and that I’ll always strive for more of those blues in life!

So, what did ChatGPT miss? Well, I enjoyed judging horse shows around the country, from Aiken to HITS Chicago to Paso Robles in California and many places in between. I checked off South Dakota on my list of states, as well, when judging for South Dakota State University (in a blizzard, of course!). I’ve now visited 42 states and plan to add a few more in 2026 with the ultimate goal of seeing all 50.

One aspect of my year it also overlooked was the loss of my dear friend and business partner. Michelle passed away on March 3, and I felt her loss profoundly every single day. I considered continuing Ink Horse Publishing to keep her memory alive, but after about six months I realized the joy I found in the business was gone along with her. I struggled to pick up the pieces that Michelle had so effortlessly handled, and it was hard to ignore the reason for my procrastination— it just wasn’t fun anymore.

I’ve built my life around deadlines and achieving them, but without Michelle by my side, the Ink Horse projects just sailed on past, and the guilt I should have experienced simply evaporated. So, as December 31 turns into January 1, I will formally lay Ink Horse to rest. We had a great run, Michelle, and I’ll be forever grateful for your support, creativity, enthusiasm and, most of all, your friendship of 30+ years. ChatGPT may follow my online movements with ease and accuracy, but it can never truly know what’s in my heart.