Today marks our 15th anniversary of living in the States. What a journey it’s been. From Virginia to Ohio to Florida, and now California, this country has offered us countless opportunities to learn, grow, and connect with people and places beyond our wildest dreams. The past month, however, has felt like a tornado of chaos and upheaval, and I’m so relieved to have made it through to the other side.
In case you missed my recent updates, here’s a recap of my life over the past four weeks:
- My husband was offered a new job in California.
- Traveled to California, found a new house in three days, got back to Florida, put the farm on the market, and went into contract within 48 hours.
- Made the decision to relocate the horses to Ohio. Moved them 3 weeks ago.
- Returned to Florida. Packed up the farm.
- Closed on the new house in California within 13 days from contract.
- Drove across the country in four days with our dog, Gracie.
- Our belongings arrived in California. Unpacked 275 boxes in four days.
- Closed on the farm sale within 23 days from contract.
- Ten days after arriving in California, I flew to New York to attend the HAI Conference at Green Chimneys and delivered a keynote entitled “Embodying a sense of belonging with the help of horses.” Ouf.
- Left the conference and traveled to Ohio to visit the herd.
And breathe…
To say that I am exhausted, physically and emotionally, would be an understatement. And yet, I am also feeling deeply humbled and held. I wouldn’t have made it through any of this without the incredible love and support of our friends and HERD community. As I sit in Katie’s kitchen right now, looking out her back deck to the view of the herd who have settled so beautifully and integrated with her horses, I am overwhelmed with gratitude. My heartfelt thanks go out to each and every one of you who have sent messages of encouragement, love, and care our way during this period of transition.
Somehow, aside from a couple of minor hiccups, all the million moving pieces of this enormous relocation jigsaw puzzle fell into place. We are now officially suburban Californian residents. My husband has started his new job, and I am discovering what it means to live in suburbia without my beloved herd, chickens, and farm cat. My mornings are now centered around walking the dog through our new neighborhood rather than barn chores, as I re-orient myself to finding a new sense of home and belonging.
The HAI Conference couldn’t have come at a better time. I knew that I would be surrounded by folks who would understand my ambiguous grief of moving the horses. The audience’s response to my keynote was confirmation that those of us who work with animals feel a deep sense of belonging and kinship with our more-than-human counterparts. And while I was fretting about not ugly crying on stage in front of 300 people, I also knew that my raw emotions would seep out, and that was okay too. In fact, I was met with such overwhelming compassion and understanding, and so many attendees sought me out afterwards to share their own stories of grief and loss with their beloved animals, that it became the healing balm I didn’t know I needed, at exactly the right time.
While my grief for not being in daily proximity to my herd will linger on indefinitely, I also know that new opportunities and possibilities abound with this transition. I’ll take my time to lean into those and trust that our Stateside adventures of the last 15 years will continue to unfold in meaningful and unforgettable ways. What I am sure of is this: when we speak of healing in community, we’re not referring to some hierarchical entity where only the elders, leaders, or parents tend to the rest of the flock. We’re talking about the impact that each of us has on the whole community, in our own unique ways of offering love, support, and care in ways big and small. From Katie and Ryan pulling a 20-hour day to help haul the horses from Florida to Ohio, to my neighbor taking in my chickens for a few weeks until the new owners of the farm are ready to bring them home, to HERD members texting to say that they were thinking of me, to friends who listened when I cried and ached for my horses, I am grateful for it all. It is this reciprocity of generosity that heals, and I am forever grateful for the community we have built together. At a time when the world is feeling precarious, I can’t help but wonder how we can extend this attitude of abundance beyond our immediate community.
Perhaps one answer lies in the gatherings we choose to create and show up for. Our 10th Anniversary HERD Conference is just around the corner, and after everything this past month has held, I’m holding it with even more tenderness. Ten years of this work. Ten years of practitioners, students, and friends finding their way to The HERD, and to each other. The conference is a reminder that none of us are doing this alone, and this year especially, I’m looking forward to gathering with all of you, to celebrate, to learn, and to keep nurturing the kind of community that holds us when life feels uncertain. I hope you’ll join us in Columbus, Ohio.
In the meantime, if you’re curious about what our community offers, I’d like to extend an invitation to our next monthly HERD Gathering on Monday, May 4th at 2pm EDT. Join us via Zoom here:
https://us02web.zoom.us/j/88485544144
Meeting ID: 884 8554 4144
Passcode: 644597
Our HERD Gatherings are virtual community events that keep us connected through the work we do and the struggles we face. Our next gathering will feature our guest speaker and conference sponsor, Julia Rose of Bridle & Brand.
With love and gratitude,
Veronica