January 16, 2026
How can you improve your nervous system?
Guilt without self-flagellation: Guilt is information. Shame is identity.
Guilt says: Something I did mattered.
Shame says: Something is wrong with me.
When guilt shows up, try this exact move:
Pause. Put a hand somewhere solid. Chest, thigh, table.
Then say, quietly or internally:
“I can let this inform me without punishing myself.”
Do one concrete thing differently next time. One. Not a vow to be better forever.
If your mind starts spiraling into “I’m terrible” or “I should’ve known,” that’s not responsibility. That’s your nervous system trying to discharge energy by attacking yourself.
Self-flagellation feels productive, but it fixes nothing. Repair requires enough self-safety to stay present.
Grief without defensiveness: Grief shows up when you realize something mattered more than you acknowledged. Defensiveness is the reflex to protect your self-image so you don’t have to feel that. The key is letting grief be sad, not a verdict.
When grief arises, don’t explain. Don’t justify. Don’t contextualize yet.
Try this:
Name what’s true in one sentence.
“I didn’t see this before, and that hurts.”
Then let the feeling move through the body.
Tight throat. Heavy chest. Slow breath. Maybe tears.
Grief completes when it’s felt.
Defensiveness keeps it stuck and turns it into arguments.
You’ll know you’re grieving cleanly when compassion expands instead of contracts.
Uncertainty without rushing to answers: This one is brutal for high-capacity, intelligent people. The urge to solve is often an anxiety response, not wisdom.
When you feel the need to figure it out now, ask:
“What am I afraid will happen if I don’t know yet?”
Usually the answer is:
– I’ll harm again
– I’ll be judged
– I’ll lose control
– I’ll feel helpless
Instead of solving, anchor.
Slow your exhale.
Soften your jaw.
Widen your vision. Literally look around the room.
Then replace “What’s the answer?” with:
“What’s the next kind step?”
Not the right step. The kind one.
Uncertainty becomes tolerable when you trust your ability to respond, not predict.
How this looks with horses specifically:
Guilt: “I missed a signal.”
Response: Pause, soften, adjust the ask.
Grief: “I thought this was fine, and now I see it wasn’t.”
Response: Feel it. Change your approach. Don’t erase the past.
Uncertainty: “I don’t know if this exercise is helping today.”
Response: Lower the demand. Watch. Let the horse inform you.
This is regulation in action.
One last thing, because it matters
If you grew up having to be hyper-competent, responsible, or emotionally ahead of the room, this work will feel threatening at first. That doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong. It means you’re touching something real.
You don’t become safer by being perfect.
You become safer by staying present when things are imperfect.
That’s how harm stops repeating.
And the quiet truth is this:
Horses already forgive the moment we stop forcing ourselves to be above the learning.
They don’t need us flawless.
They need us available.