Cynthia Tudball

Oftentimes, when I’ve endeavored into something new—whether a home project or something personal and profoundly significant—resistance shows up. It shows up in the people around us, in the obstacles that appear through unexpected illness, sudden financial demands, and, toughest of all, in the voices in our own heads. Sometimes it’s the unconscious ways sabotage creeps in and takes hold. The project gets placed in a corner, tucked away in a box. Trying something new gets pushed aside. It’s how...

Goodbyes carve us. They change the shape of our days, the rhythm of our breath, the way we move through the world. Some goodbyes are expected. Some arrive like a storm we never saw coming. The land here has held many of mine. There’s a small rise near the back pasture where the grass grows tall in summer and the wind moves like a slow hymn. I’ve stood there more times than I can count—sometimes with tears, sometimes with gratitude, often with both. Horses understand goodbyes in a way humans...

4th of 5 — Come Sit With Me a While The Way of the Spirit and the Quiet That Guides Us There are places on this land where the air feels different—lighter, steadier, almost threaded with something holy. I didn’t notice it at first. Grief had narrowed my senses, and survival had become my only prayer. But the Spirit has a way of finding the cracks. Of slipping through the smallest openings. Of reminding us we are not wandering alone. One evening, long after the sun dipped behind the ridge, I...