THIRD SPACES
Campbell’s Lane Farm... ...continued from page 27 Yes, the Donkeys The donkeys are part of that shift.
They are not here merely as charming animals or therapeutic com- panions, though they are both tender and delightful. They are fre- quency holders. They anchor innocence, groundedness, relational truth, and a kind of unwavering presence that many humans have lost contact with. They do not hurry themselves away from what is real. They do not abandon their own knowing in order to conform. They remain in direct relationship with the moment, with the land, with one another, and with us. In their company, we begin to remember how to do the same. There is Maggie and her babies, Boo and Tinkerbell. Silas Paul and his mother, Fiona — the mother presence — who softly oversees the herd, always protecting, always letting us know we are never alone. To be near them is to be seen differently. Not through the eyes of judgment, social identity, defense, or role — but through a deeper rec- ognition. They seem to meet the essence first; something in us that has been buried beneath over-efforting, grief, fatigue, or adaptation begins to stir. The sweetness of the heart. The quiet truth of the body. The simple goodness of being. So imagine what it feels like to be in their presence.
You may think you are coming to do a thing called donkey cuddling, but instead, they invite you back into your original nature, and to be seen for who you really are: the sweetness that still lives deep in your heart, the laughter that always wants to bubble up, your uniqueness, all the goodness that makes you you. That is how the donkeys see you. They do not ask us to become anyone else. And the donkeys want to come to you — slowly and gently, if that is what they sense is needed. After a while they stand very close, as close as you like, because they do love to be cuddled, and they cuddle in return. They want nothing from you. They simply delight in your presence — your heart, your quirks, your whole way of being. Gleeful - ly, if it is Boo. Warmly and steadfastly, if it is Maggie who you are lucky enough to be with. The hour flies by. When you leave, you are gentler, more yourself, maybe even happy. Even the gruffest heart has melted and rediscov - ered childlike wonder. The farm as a whole is part of the transmission. The stillness. The pace. The lack of demand. The humans who tend it all with devotion — Anne, Jack, Jenn, Cayman and Allison — do not merely manage a property. They see themselves as stewards of the land, the animals, and all of us who visit this magical place. Together with Blair, the an - imal communicator and healer, and Melissa, the artist and organizer, Land of Deeper Connection No, it is not only the donkeys.
28—PATHWAYS—Summer 26
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