Horses, Highways & Healing Waters
“Sometimes the best therapist has four legs and says nothing." — Unknown
October 12th, 2026
📍House of Loto—Salida, Colorado, USA 🇺🇸
Greetings from the wilderness!
October is turning out to be quite the month. Last weekend, I had the opportunity to attend a women's equine therapy retreat at Middle Way Sanctuary in Hartsel, Colorado, a nonprofit dedicated to equine-assisted therapy and providing sanctuary for horses who are difficult to rehome.
One of the most meaningful moments for me was approaching the horses with the same practice of consent I bring to my Morning Altars.
When creating earth art in nature, I practice asking permission before gathering rocks, twigs, flowers, pinecones, and other natural materials. And considering what I have to give in return. It's part of how I practice reciprocity with Creation—recognizing that the natural world is not simply a collection of resources at my disposal (a mindset deeply rooted in our culture of consumption), but something I'm in relationship with. Something I'm a part of.
While I've practiced this for years in my altar making, I'd never consciously extended it to my interactions with animals in quite the same way. So I found myself asking the horses for permission to approach and engage with them, paying attention to how they responded and what I could learn about them through those responses.
Consent, presence, and reciprocity aren't simply ideas we explore in spiritual practice, community building, or creative pursuits. They're ways of being in relationship with the world around us. It's something we practice at Forest Church, too, as we learn to engage with Creation not as something separate from ourselves, but as something we belong to.
My greatest takeaway from the retreat, though, was remembering how much I need these experiences myself. As much as I love creating and hosting retreats for others, I also need to make time to receive, to be held in spaces that someone else has lovingly prepared.
And the timing couldn't have been better.
This weekend, I'll be shifting from participant to host as we gather for our final retreat of 2026 at the House of Loto. I'm carrying that reminder with me as we prepare to welcome another group into the forest.
And somewhere between all of that, I'm packing my bags again!
Next week, I'll be hitting the road for California on my annual solo road trip, where I'll be participating in an Aguahara retreat. I'm excited to expand upon my Janzu training, deepen my exploration of aquatic bodywork, and connect with others in the water community.
But I'm equally excited for the journey itself: the open road, silence and solitude, beautiful landscapes, and starry night skies. I'll be sharing plenty of pictures and stories along the way on my travel Instagram account, so come along for the ride!
And that's not the only road trip on the horizon.
In just over a month, I'll be making my annual migration south to Mexico for the winter. Only this year, instead of flying, I'm driving!
Thankfully, I won't be making this journey alone. My roommate from Bucerías last winter, Gordon, happens to live in Frisco, Colorado, and we'll be making the round-trip journey together.
I've also been grateful for friends who've made the border crossing many times and generously shared their wisdom. There's quite a bit to consider when packing up your life and work for several months in another country. I'll be sharing more about those preparations and what I'm learning about driving versus flying in an upcoming letter.
Meanwhile, there's plenty unfolding behind the scenes at Loto. I've been exploring new venues for our upcoming RENEW Retreat as we navigate the aftermath of hurricane damage along Mexico's Pacific coast.
It's another reminder that the places we love and gather in are not simply beautiful backdrops for our experiences. They're living communities and ecosystems, deserving of our care and reciprocity.
Some things are coming together beautifully. Others are still taking shape. And perhaps that's the invitation of this season: to remain present in the movement, open to what emerges, and willing to let the journey unfold without needing to know exactly where every road will lead.
I'll have more stories to share from the road soon.
Until then, with Love, unconditionally—
Jennifer
P.S.—I’d love to hear from you! Send a DM via socials, email me, or drop a comment below 👇
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