Just because someone can do something—talk, stay, engage—doesn’t mean their nervous system feels safe.
We don’t rush that.
We don’t override it.
We work with conditions.
We build capacity.
We follow connection.
Because real healing isn’t compliance.
It’s when the body starts to say yes on its own.
04/29/2026
There’s a moment that happens with horses who have “been there, done that.”
The moment where everyone assumes they’re ready.
Ready to be caught.
Ready to be ridden.
Ready to perform familiarity.
And sometimes they are.
But sometimes what looks like readiness is actually history.
History of pressure.
History of moving forward because there was no other option.
History of learning that the safest answer is compliance.
Rainey came to us labeled a “deluxe trail horse.”
And in many ways, she probably is.
But alongside her curiosity and affection was something else I could feel almost immediately:
A nervous system bracing for pressure.
Fast movement.
A raised hand.
A rope shifting overhead.
A halter appearing in the field.
The whites of her eyes would show.
Her neck would rise.
She would freeze, look away, or quietly move off.
Not explosive.
Not “bad.”
Not resistant.
Just vigilant.
And when a horse arrives in a new place carrying that kind of sensitivity—new land, new herd, new routines, new humans—the question isn’t:
“What can this horse do?”
The question becomes:
“What conditions help this horse stay connected?”
That’s the work.
Not forcing participation because the horse technically knows how.
Not bypassing the nervous system because the behavior appears manageable.
Not assuming familiarity equals readiness.
In The Language Between, we talk often about the relational field:
Human • Horse • Conditions
Because behavior never exists in isolation.
A horse may know how to wear a halter and still not feel safe approaching one.
A horse may know how to stand still while simultaneously bracing internally.
A horse may move forward while disconnected from themselves, from us, and from choice.
So instead of insisting, I slowed down.
I spent time simply being with Rainey.
Scratching her.
Letting her approach and move away.
Bringing the halter into the field without needing anything from her.
Letting her sniff it.
Rewarding curiosity with scratches, soft words, or grass pellets.
Placing the halter briefly over her nose and then releasing pressure entirely.
Following her movement instead of trapping it.
And if she trotted away to rejoin the herd, that information mattered too.
Not failure.
Not defiance.
Information.
Over the last few weeks, something has been shifting.
Not because we pushed through.
But because the conditions changed.
The herd settled.
The routines became familiar.
Her body softened.
Connection started replacing vigilance.
And today felt different.
I haltered Gracie first while Rainey watched nearby. Gracie and I walked small circles together, practiced backing softly, breathed, paused, received reinforcement. Rainey watched the entire interaction with deep curiosity.
She approached.
She moved closer.
She investigated.
And when I offered the halter to her, she willingly placed her nose forward.
No bracing.
No high-necked retreat.
No freeze.
Just participation.
We walked together for a few moments. Breathed together. Scratched her neck. Practiced tiny moments of backing and waiting. Nothing dramatic. Nothing performative.
But underneath it was something profound:
Involvement.
Not submission.
Not endurance.
Not simply doing the task.
Relationship.
Afterward, I removed the halter and stood in the field with Rainey, Gracie, and Maya. We practiced small moments of spatial awareness and waiting together at liberty—backing softly, pausing, receiving reinforcement one at a time, sharing space without urgency.
It felt quiet.
Connected.
Unforced.
And maybe to some traditional horse people, this all sounds impossibly slow.
Why spend weeks doing what the horse already knows how to do?
Because knowing how is not the same thing as feeling safe enough to participate.
Because a horse can physically comply long before they are relationally available.
Because slowing down enough to notice the difference changes everything.
This is the kind of work we explore deeply in The Language Between.
Not technique first.
Not outcome first.
But learning to listen to the conversation happening underneath the behavior.
Learning to notice when a horse is surviving a request versus joining it.
Learning how our own bodies, expectations, urgency, history, and nervous systems enter the field too.
Today wasn’t meaningful because Rainey wore a halter.
It was meaningful because there was a moment where I could feel her choosing to stay connected inside the interaction.
And that changes the entire conversation.
PS. There is still time to join us for The Language Between program starts June 1
04/28/2026
Your horse isn’t merely a mirror and they aren’t JUST responding to what you do. They are responding to what’s happening in you.
The tension you’re trying to hide.
The urgency underneath your request.
The moment you stop listening and start pushing.
They feel all of it.
Not because they’re being difficult—
but because they’re in the relationship with you.
This is where somatic work matters.
Because you can’t separate the horse from the field
you’re both inside of.
We’re in the final stretch to The Language Between start date! We still have some spots open. Reach out if you want in. This program is not just about your horse and it’s not just about you, but it will transform the both of you and your relationship to self and other. Ask about new founding cohort pricing and limited sliding scale
Last week there was tension. Today there’s allogrooming — the mutual grooming horses use to bond, regulate, and build connection with one another.
Relationship is rarely linear.
04/27/2026
So much gratitude for everyone who showed up and made our Spring Emergence Retreat meaningful. The herd did so well to show up for everyone and we loved seeing our new addition Rainey Blue step in!
04/24/2026
The Language Between: The Moment I Almost Got It Wrong
There was a moment during integration where I thought I needed to step in.
Rainey kept sneaking toward Maya—
subtle, quiet movements that looked like they could turn into a kick at any second.
It didn’t feel random.
It didn’t feel playful.
It felt like something I should stop.
And this is the moment I see so often—
not just in others, but in myself.
Where we interpret what we’re seeing too quickly.
Where we move from observation…
to conclusion.
“She’s being aggressive.”
“She’s targeting her.”
“This is going to escalate.”
And once we’ve decided that,
we act.
We separate.
We correct.
We try to control the outcome.
Not because we’re wrong to care—
but because we’re uncomfortable not knowing.
So I went out, ready to intervene.
But when I got there…
Rainey and Maya were standing in the stall together, half asleep.
Resting.
Soft.
No tension.
No story.
Just two horses, sharing space.
And it stopped me.
Because nothing I thought was happening…
had actually finished happening.
⸻
This is what we often get wrong with horses:
We think behavior is the truth.
But behavior is only a moment in a much longer conversation.
We think we need to act at the first sign of tension.
But tension is often part of how relationship organizes itself.
We think proximity means safety or danger.
But horses move in and out of space constantly to find regulation.
We think we’re seeing the whole picture.
But we’re usually seeing fragments—filtered through our own threshold.
⸻
What I was witnessing wasn’t a problem to solve.
It was a conversation still unfolding.
And had I stepped in too soon,
I would have interrupted something I didn’t yet understand.
⸻
This doesn’t mean we never intervene.
But it does ask something more nuanced of us:
Can we stay present
long enough to see what the relationship does next?
Can we notice the conditions—
space, resources, nervous system states—
before assigning meaning to the behavior?
Can we tolerate not knowing…
without rushing to control?
⸻
That moment reminded me:
The herd doesn’t rush to conclusions.
They stay in relationship.
And if I’m willing to do the same—
I start to hear something different.
Something quieter.
Something more honest.
⸻
That space between—
where nothing is fully decided yet—
that’s where the real language lives.
Join us for The Language Between register now!
04/23/2026
🌿 NEW structure, Start date and pricing for The Language Between — Founding Cohort
There’s a way of being with horses that isn’t about getting it right, fixing behavior, or following a method.
It lives in the space between.
Between your body and theirs.
Between what’s asked and what’s actually possible.
Between participation, hesitation, and refusal.
This is the space I’ve been teaching from for years—through my work in equine-facilitated psychotherapy, somatic practice, and time spent in relationship with the herd.
And now, I’m opening the first Founding Cohort of The Language Between.
What this is
A 3-month relational and somatic learning experience for those who want to:
deepen their ability to listen to horses beyond behavior
understand the relational field (human • horse • conditions)
shift from pressure and expectation into request and response
work with participation, not compliance
This isn’t a step-by-step training program.
It’s a practice of learning how to see, feel, and respond differently.
Relationship is the method.
Founding Cohort (June–August)
This first round will be intentionally small—
a more intimate, high-touch experience as the program takes shape.
Online modules + guided practices
Live group calls for integration and case exploration
3-day in-person immersion on the farm (late August)
Note: The immersion will take place later in August to allow for spacious integration and to accommodate a personal medical procedure I’ll be moving through this season.
Investment
Founding Cohort Rate: $1,350
(Future cohorts will return to full pricing $2100)
A limited number of sliding scale spots are available to support accessibility. If you have been wanting to join but cost was prohibitive reach out!
04/11/2026
This spring gathering is still on—and it’s going to be special 🤍
Join us for Qigong, intention setting, time with the horses, and meeting the new addition, Miss Rainey Blues (plus the famous piggles!). It may be the last offering before I pause for knee surgery. Reach out via email to join us.
04/09/2026
I also want to share—this temporary shift in my in-person capacity does not mean that The Language Between or Echoes of the Herd are slowing down.
If anything, this season has deepened them.
Being more in observation with the herd during this time has given me space to witness their integration in a way that feels incredibly aligned with everything I teach—real-time validation, nuance, and moments I couldn’t have planned.
It’s been a powerful reminder that the work is always happening… when we slow down enough to see it.
I’ll be pouring my energy into these spaces in the coming months, and I’m genuinely excited to share what’s been unfolding.
If you’ve been thinking about joining The Language Between or stepping into Echoes, this is a rich time to come in.
I’ve been watching something really interesting unfold in the herd…
At first, I was honestly worried.
Rainey was quick to activate—turning her butt, kicking toward Maya, running through tight spaces between the others. It felt chaotic at moments, like the energy could tip too far.
Gracie kept the structure of the herd really clear:
She allowed Maya into the stall with her and Skip—
while Rainey stood just outside, head and neck in.
Not excluded.
But not fully in yet either.
Out in the field, things began to shift.
Maya and Rainey started standing close.
Resting butt to butt.
Walking together.
The tension softened without anyone forcing it.
And then yesterday…
I walked in and found all four of them standing in the stall together.
Side by side:
Skip — Maya — Gracie — Rainey.
Just like that.
Looking back, it felt like Gracie was helping organize the whole thing.
Not through dominance.
Not through correction.
But by staying steady.
Not getting pulled into Rainey’s activation.
Not matching it.
Not chasing it away.
Almost like she was saying:
“We’re not joining you there…
but we’re here when you settle.”
—
And Rainey did.
—
This is what I mean when I talk about The Language Between.
So much of what looks like chaos…
is actually a system learning how to regulate, relate, and belong.
If we can slow down enough to see it. There is so much I am witnessing that has deepened The Language Between Principles it’s like a gift unfolding before my eyes reassuring me I’m on the right path with this program and life with my herd.
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Welcome to True Nature. We aim to provide a supportive journey toward restoring balance and harmony within your life. We value each persons inner wisdom and strive to help each person on their unique journey to wholeness, to their true nature. We take a holistic approach that incorporates mind, body, and soul wellness.
With over 20 years combined experience and practice we offer a wide variety of practices including psychotherapy, coaching, yoga, meditation, bodywork, wellness workshops and retreats. We value diversity and are a culturally sensitive, trauma informed, LGBTQ+ affirming practice.
Our primary space is located in downtown Homewood, IL. While the primary practice is individual Psychotherapy and Zen Shiatsu, we offer a wide array of wellness workshops throughout the year. In the warmer months retreat style experiences are offered on our 5 acre farmette, only 45 minutes from downtown Chicago. We are excited to share our love of nature and connection to all beings. We can’t wait to connect and support you on your journey to wellness!
Our Team
Marie Sian, AOBTA-CP, LMT, LPTA
Marie is an Asian Bodywork Therapy - Certified Practitioner of Zen Shiatsu and Traditional Chinese Medicine. She’s also a License Massage Therapist, Licensed Physical Therapist Assistant, Yoga teacher, Reiki Master and has done extensive training in Qigong.
Marie been on a quest for true healing and restoring the natural balance of the body. She found long term chronic pain, syndromes and dis-"eases" were not resolving with physical therapy alone and knew there was more to healing than just working on the physical body. Marie takes a holistic approach that integrates the body, mind and spirit. She is an advocate of being proactive with your health versus reactive as western medicine tends to be. She is excited to work with you to help restore your natural balance.
Jennifer A Baker, LCPC, RYT, CADC
Jennifer is a licensed Psychotherapist, Yogi, and nature lover with over 20 years experience in the mental health field. Jennifer has brought her passion and service to a variety of settings including community mental health, residential programs, hospitals, correction facilities and private practice. She is a firm believer that compassion, connection and radical self care are key to well being. Jennifer has considerable experience working with clients facing challenges related, but not limited, to relationship and interpersonal concerns, histories of trauma, mood instability, grief and loss, depression, anxiety, psychosis, adjustment difficulties, and recovery from addiction. Walking with clients on their journey to healing is a sacred and personal honor. Jennifer strives to create a collaborative and compassionate space to promote growth and healing, taking into account mind body and soul. Jennifer is currently working toward offering equine guided learning and therapy to the community and is excited to share her love of animals and nature for healing.
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