The Herds We Build
- annekrocak
- May 20
- 3 min read
Notes from the Herd (translated by Anne Krocak)
Zeus Wonders About the Herds We Build
Hello humans,
It’s Zeus. Yes, that Zeus.
The small white mini horse with the magnificent hair and excellent emotional observation skills.
I watch everything from the pasture fence while pretending I’m mostly interested in snacks.
This weekend I watched something beautiful happen at Art, Heart & Hoofbeats Sanctuary.
Sara, one of AHHS’s very first volunteers, brought her human herd to meet her horse herd.
And from where I stood, I realized something:
Humans build herds too.
Not with fences or hay or shared water buckets like we do.
You build them slowly over years.
Through friendships. Late-night conversations. Shared grief. Shared laughter. Helping each other move houses. Raising children. Showing up after loss. Remembering birthdays. Staying connected across decades even when life becomes busy and complicated.
All day long I watched humans arrive carrying history with them.
Some had not seen each other in years.
But their bodies seemed to remember each other before their words did.
At first they greeted each other like humans often do — carefully.
A little awkwardly. Trying to figure out how much time had passed.
But then the sanctuary worked its quiet magic.
People softened. Laughter grew louder. Stories grew deeper.
I watched childhood friends sit under trees talking as if no time had passed at all.
I watched people snuggle goats while remembering younger versions of themselves.
I watched humans look at one another with the kind of tenderness that only comes from surviving life together for a very long time.
And I wondered…
Why do humans wait for special occasions to slow down enough to truly see one another again?
We horses — even amazing minis like myself — do not fully understand this part.
In a herd, connection is daily. Quiet. Consistent. Unspoken.
We check in with each other constantly.
But humans seem to forget sometimes how much they need one another.
That is why places like AHHS matter.
Not because we are fancy.
Not because of the parties.
But because nature, animals, art, and open space help humans remember what actually nourishes them.
Connection. Belonging. Being witnessed and welcomed exactly as they are.
I watched Sara move between her different herds all day long: family, friends, childhood stories, new friends, horses, goats, community.
And somehow they all fit together here.
That felt important.
Because maybe wellness is not something humans “achieve.”
Maybe wellness is simply returning to the places and relationships where your nervous system can finally rest.
Maybe healing looks like laughing with an old friend beside a horse.
Maybe it looks like painting rocks with children.
Maybe it looks like sitting quietly under a tree realizing you do not have to carry everything alone.
And maybe the greatest gift humans can give themselves is not more productivity…
but more connection.
More slowness. More honesty. More time with the people who make them feel safe enough to fully exhale.
A Quick Art Activity from the Herd 🎨
Before you rush back into your busy week, Zeus has a little challenge for you humans.
Take a small rock, piece of paper, journal page, or canvas and create a simple “Herd Map.”
Who are the people, animals, places, or memories that help you feel grounded, safe, connected, and fully yourself?
Use colors, words, symbols, doodles, or simple drawings to represent the herd you have built throughout your life — and maybe the herd you still hope to find.
Sometimes healing begins simply by noticing we were never meant to do life alone.
So I have a question for you humans today:
What gift could you give yourself that would help you feel more connected, more grounded, and more alive?
A walk outside? A conversation? Time with people you love? Art? Rest? Quiet? Community? A visit with a horse… or goat? (We animals think about these things a lot.)
Love, Zeus