“The wild woman carries the bundles for healing; she carries everything a woman needs to be and know. She is the essence of the female soul.” —Clarissa Pinkola Estés
A note: This week, I’m away leading my Wyoming Expedition—off-grid with ten amazing humans and over 80 beautiful horses. Since I won’t be writing these meditations in “real time” as I usually do, I’m sharing with you some of the stories I’ll be telling around campfires, on the shores of alpine lakes, and at the edges of high cliffs. These are stories that journey with us—quiet companions that do their work over time as we carry them within. I hope you enjoy them.
There was once a woman who lived at the edge of a quiet village—neither fully in nor fully out, neither completely seen nor entirely hidden.
By day, she was much like the others. She swept her floor. Tended her garden. Nodded politely in the marketplace. Her hands were steady. Her words few. The village considered her dependable, if a bit peculiar.
But the woman held a secret.
Each night, after the village had gone to sleep and the stars had claimed the sky, she walked barefoot into the field behind her house.
And there, waiting in the tall grass, was a wild mare—black as shadow, eyes like firelight. The mare would lower her head and the woman would climb onto her back, no saddle, no reins. And they would ride.
Across hills and moonlit streams, into forests no map could name. The wind tore through the woman’s hair. Her laughter—full and fierce—rose into the night air like music the stars remembered.
They said nothing to each other. They didn’t need to.
She returned before dawn. Always.
When morning came, she tied back her hair, put on her apron, and returned to the roles the world expected of her. This went on for many years, until one day, the village elders came to her door.
They had been watching her. Not the riding—they never saw that—but something in her presence. The way she listened. The way she moved through the world without apology or arrogance. The way her eyes held both fire and calm.
“We want you to lead us,” they said.
She laughed—at first.
But they were serious.
And so she agreed.
But only on one condition.
“By day,” she said, “I will sit in your councils, walk your roads, serve your people. But by night, the mare must come. I will not shut her out to earn your trust. I will not tame the wild in me to make you comfortable.”
The elders looked at one another, then bowed their heads. “So be it.”
And so it was.
She became a wise and beloved guide. She showed up fully—in meetings, in markets, in moments of sorrow and celebration.
But every night, the wild mare returned.
From that sacred rhythm—between galloping freedom and grounded presence—a new kind of leader was born, one who remembered that the world does not need more domesticated women (or men). It needs those who have ridden the dark and come back with their fire still burning.
We are in this together,
Cameron
Reflection Questions
Is there a part of you that feels “untamed”—a longing, an instinct, a creativity you’ve hidden or silenced?
What would it take for you to welcome this part of yourself without fear or apology?
What might leadership look like if it was rooted in both wildness and wisdom?
A Prayer for the Day
For Those of Free Spirit
Holy One, You made us of earth and wind, of structure and wildness. Help me honor both. May I never forget the part of me that laughs under starlight, that listens to dreams, that gallops beyond the fences of fear. And may I bring that same spirit into the work of love and justice— into the healing of the world. Amen.
Spiritual Practice
The Two Chairs
Set up two chairs in a quiet space, facing each other. Imagine one chair represents your day self—the one who shows up for others, handles responsibilities, leads with care. The other chair represents your wild self—the one who longs for freedom, who dreams, who dances under the stars.
Sit first in the chair of your day self. Speak aloud, as this version of you:
What do I carry every day?
What am I proud of?
What do I wish I could say or do more freely?
Then move to the chair of your wild self. Speak aloud again, as her:
What have I been trying to tell you?
What do I remember that you’ve forgotten?
What do we need in order to become whole?
When you’re finished, sit in stillness between the chairs.
Breathe.
No fixing. Just witnessing.
Let this inner dialogue stay with you today. Perhaps journal what surprised you or felt true.
Upcoming Events That Might Be of Interest…
August 11, 2025, 2pm ET - Dr. Andrew Root and I will be hosting a 6 part series on Spirituality in the Secular Age based on his research. The dates are August 11, 18, September 8, 15, and October 6, 13. Register here!
September 4, 4:30pm ET - I will be collaborating with the Anderson Forum for Progressive Theology to host a conversation with Thomas Jay Oord on Open and Relational theology. It’s a FREE event. Register here.
October 15-18, 2025 - Converging 2025: Sing Truth Conference (all musicians invited!) at Northwest Christian Church in Columbus, OH. Register here!
October 23, 30, November 6, 13, 2025, 7pm ET - In Search of a New Story: Reimagining What Comes Next, A 4-Part Online Series with Matthew Fox, Cameron Trimble, and Special Guests. We are living through the unraveling of many old stories—about who we are, why we’re here, and how we are meant to live together on this Earth. As these inherited narratives collapse under the weight of climate crisis, social fragmentation, and spiritual disconnection, the question becomes clear: What story will guide us now? REGISTRATION OPENING SOON!
I drafted a Strategic Framework for Congregations as we move into the coming years of increased authoritarianism around the world. If interested, you can download it here.
If you are a leader or member of a congregation looking for consulting support in visioning, planning, hiring or staffing, please consider Convergence.
As I wrote on my restack, I love this. I just came back from a "Journey of the Soul" in Ireland, called "Rebel Country." It's the Cork area, in geogrphy, but "rebel country" is inside, too. The Wild and Wise Horse, whose untamed nature gives us wisdom and without which our souls would be dead. I honor and respect that dimension of myself and care for its preservation as I have cared for the preservation and aliveness of my child.
This story filled my eyes with tears of thankfulness. Last night I attended the reelection kick off for one of our State Senators. She is a compassionate listener and kind person. Yet when she spoke about her work in our senate and advocacy for schools, immigrants and treating each person with dignity, I heard the roar of a strong leader that others recognized and elected her to serve.
Thank you for this story, Cameron. ❤️