The Accessibility of Belonging
- annekrocak
- 3 hours ago
- 4 min read
The Accessibility of Belonging
Notes from Axl one of the eight Equine Herd Members at Art, Heart & Hoofbeats Sanctuary
Hi. I’m Axl Rose. I’m a 3-year-old horse living at Art, Heart & Hoofbeats Sanctuary.
Before I came to Art, Heart & Hoofbeats Sanctuary, my life was confusing and painful. When I was only two months old, I became tangled in twine. I fought hard to free myself and ended up tearing muscles in my body trying to escape. Humans helped heal the infection and patch the open wounds, but I still carry the emotional scars of that time. When I was about a year old, my owner needed to find me a new home. She feared what might happen to me if I ended up at a horse auction, so she chose Art, Heart & Hoofbeats Sanctuary instead.
That choice changed my life.
At AHHS, they do not expect perfection from horses or humans. They make space for differences here.
And I’ve noticed something important:
The people who visit us often arrive carrying tangles too.
Not twine wrapped around their legs like mine. Invisible tangles. Fear. Anxiety. Grief. Loneliness. Exhaustion. Shame. Overwhelm. Disconnection.
This May, the grass was especially delicious and high. David and Izzie, our resident peacocks, called from the trees while goats wandered between visitors looking for snacks and attention. The horses stood quietly in the shade watching people arrive one by one.
Hundreds of people visited Art, Heart & Hoofbeats Sanctuary in May. People of all ages, backgrounds, abilities, and experiences. Some struggled physically. Some emotionally. Some socially. Some quietly carried things no one else could see.
The changes I witnessed were quiet, but profound.
I watched one young man stand quietly in the pasture with his hair hanging over his eyes. He kept pulling grass for Fable. Instead of walking away, Fable stayed beside him. She moved to protect him, placing her head and neck gently over him like an umbrella. He stayed with her standing over him. After a few quiet minutes passed, he slowly brushed the hair from his face and fed her the grass he had picked.
No one told him to. No one forced him to speak. Connection happened first.
“Sometimes healing looks like standing quietly beside someone who finally feels safe enough to breathe.”
I watched another teen arrive buzzing with nervous energy, talking nonstop and struggling to settle into herself. During an equine education game, something shifted. She found her center. Her breathing slowed. Her body softened. Soon Fable and Moon began following her wherever she walked. She smiled and asked for a photo of the three of them together, grinning from ear to ear.
Horses notice regulation before humans do.
“The herd notices when your nervous system changes. We notice before words do.”
I watched visitors who struggle with balance — physically or emotionally — climb into the “HaRT Cart,” our six-person electric golf cart equipped with seat belts and turn signals. It moves slowly and quietly through the sanctuary trails. The horses often walk right over to greet the cart and the people inside. Accessibility matters.
Not just ramps and pathways.
Accessibility means creating spaces where people do not feel like a burden for needing support.
It means allowing someone to participate differently.
It means someone can sit quietly while others talk.
It means someone can stim, fidget, pause, cry, laugh too loudly, move slowly, or need extra time.
It means people are welcomed exactly where they are.
“Accessibility is not special treatment. It is making room for everyone to belong.”
At Art, Heart & Hoofbeats Sanctuary, wellness is not about fixing yourself.
It is about gently remembering yourself.
Maybe there are parts of you that have been pushed aside. Parts you stopped listening to. Parts that feel tangled. Parts that feel tired.
Can you welcome yourself back in a small way?
Can you soften toward yourself the same way you would soften toward a nervous horse?
“Horses do not ask you to hide your differences. We ask you to slow down enough to notice them with kindness.”
You are welcome here.
You are precious.
We are so glad you found us.
A Small Creative Practice: Mod Podge Flower Pots
One of the things humans do here is create.
Sometimes healing looks like feeding horses. Sometimes it looks like laughing beside goats. Sometimes it looks like sitting quietly under a tree.
And sometimes it looks like decorating a flower pot.
What You Need:
A terra cotta flower pot (any size)
Pretty napkins or tissue paper
Mod Podge or white glue mixed with a little water
White acrylic paint
A paintbrush
Directions:
Paint the outside of your flower pot with white acrylic paint.
Tear or cut pieces from your napkins.
Brush Mod Podge or watered-down glue onto the pot.
Add your napkin pieces in any arrangement you love.
Brush another layer of Mod Podge or glue over the top.
Let dry.
No perfection needed. Celebrate yourself. Well done. Know that you are creative.
Know that you did a great job!
At Art, Heart & Hoofbeats Sanctuary, we believe wellness should not belong only to people with money, perfect bodies, perfect emotional regulation, transportation, or polished lives.
Wellness should belong to everyone.
The herd is still learning. So are the humans.
But together, we keep making space.
Every visit, donation, volunteer hour, and shared story helps us continue creating accessible, relationship-centered experiences for both animals and humans.
Your support helps both horses and humans experience safety, connection, and belonging.
If our work speaks to your heart, we invite you to support the herd, visit the sanctuary, volunteer, or share our story with others.
Thank you for joining us,
— Axl Rose (Translated by Anne)
Art, Heart & Hoofbeats Sanctuary
Comments