GIỚI THIỆU VỀ TẬP NÀY
This week in Stable Roots, a rug becomes much more than a rug.
As I begin clearing out the room where my father died, I unknowingly prepare my heart for the loss of a dear friend. A conversation over Middle Eastern food, a horse covered in mysterious welts beneath the moonlight, and an old hospice nurse's wisdom all converge into a single realization: we almost never understand the purpose of our ordinary moments until they're behind us.
This week's essay is about grief, timing, horses, and the unrelated threads that stitch our life together.
In this episode:
- Why one room in our farmhouse is called The Mourning Room
- The surprising connection between Turkish rugs, asymmetrical music, and the rhythm of riding horses
- What Bentley's midnight medical mystery taught me about paying attention
- The intersection of faith, science, and the mysteries don't fit neatly in a box.
- Why the horses may understand rest better than we do
I hope this story feels like coming home.
Thank you for listening and for walking this journey alongside me.
🌿 About Stable Roots
Stable Roots is my weekly collection of essays from Lavender Hill, where the horses, the land, and farm life reveal extraordinary truths about being human.
If these stories resonate with you, I'd love for you to subscribe, share an episode with a friend, or tell me your thoughts. Every small act helps more people discover this work and supports the ongoing restoration of Lavender Hill and our senior herd of horses.
Love,
Kim
This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit stableroots.substack.com/subscribe
