Giving Thanks

I woke before sunrise this morning, spurred awake by my son’s wiggling little legs. Unable to fall back asleep, I slipped outside to feed early.

In the cold morning dark, the little tomcat trailed me along the fenceline, frost clinging to his whiskers. My stallion snored from his pile of straw, and the horses stirred, their breath rising in soft, foggy clouds beneath the starlit sky.

This life—both sharp and soft at once—this work of art I get to walk through, I realized, is the culmination of a kaleidoscope of people and horses. I am more wholly myself than ever, my mind stitched together from small pieces of every person I’ve known, every interaction I’ve been lucky enough to have.

And what a gift that is. The learning, the growth, the unexpected lessons tucked into every exchange. Because of you—readers, students, teachers, horses, friends, and fleeting connections—I have become who I am.

I toss hay over the fenceline, surrounded by nature’s quiet masterpieces: horses chewing softly in the chilly dark, illuminated only by starlight and God’s steady gaze. And as I stand there, full of years of lessons and stories and shared moments, all I can think is how deeply grateful I am—how small the word grateful feels in the face of it all.

I wish you a peaceful day of giving thanks, and all the gratitude in the world.