The Chalkboard Never Lies: Lessons from Aunt Ruth, Horse Sweat, and a Pilates Reformer…

By Melody Morton-Buckleair | The Pilates Cowgirl | elmwoodplacetx.com

Some folks need a podcast to feel heard.
Aunt Ruth had a chalkboard.

She didn’t need a ring light, a jingle, or a guest list. She had a mission, a ruler, and a blackboard that echoed with wisdom and long division. Her classroom wasn’t just a room — it was one half of a two-room Texas schoolhouse, built to teach the basics and shape the backbone of a generation.

Now, that same schoolhouse is mine.
Or rather, I’m borrowing it — just like Aunt Ruth did.

Today, I run Pilates and horse retreats, host somatic workshops, and teach people how to breathe again in that old building. The other half of the schoolhouse holds bunk beds and stories. Women come from all over to lie on reformers, sit by firepits, and experience what I call Conscious Contact — a nervous-system-reset disguised as a cowgirl weekend.

Aunt Ruth called it “paying attention.”
And she wasn’t wrong.

She Taught with a Ruler. I Teach with a Reformer.

Ruth had no tolerance for slouching, excuses, or poor penmanship. I inherited her no-nonsense backbone — just wrapped it in Pilates straps, a Texas twang, and a few trail rides.

These days, I use breath, movement, and horse work to help people reconnect with themselves. The schoolhouse where Aunt Ruth taught fractions and respect is now a sanctuary for grown-ups remembering their strength.

Pilates is my curriculum.
The reformer is my chalkboard.
The horse is my teaching assistant.

Raising Men & Rerouting Nervous Systems

When I’m not cueing spinal articulation or deciphering horse body language, I’m raising two boys into solid men — the kind who open gates, think deeply, and know how to protect peace.

And I’ll tell you the truth:
Sometimes running a studio, a retreat center, and a household full of animals feels a lot like a school day with no bell to ring. But Aunt Ruth would approve. She knew that teaching wasn’t just about reading and writing. It was about presence. And presence still heals — whether it’s on a reformer, in a pasture, or around a campfire under East Texas stars.

What the Chalkboard Taught Me

I keep a chalkboard in the Schoolhouse now — not because it’s trendy, but because some truths deserve to be written the old-fashioned way:

• Sit up tall.

• Finish what you start.

• Dream bigger.

• Always keep your word.

• Your body remembers everything — give it something good to remember.

• Love always.

• Remember please and thank you.

• Be happy.

• Respect each other.

• Use kind words.

• Be grateful, kind, and loving.

• Laugh often.

• If the horse won’t follow you, check your energy first.

• You are always, always loved.

• (And if Aunt Ruth wouldn’t wear it to school, maybe rethink the outfit.)

So no, I won’t be pitching myself for a podcast this week.
I’ve got carrots to feed, a pool to skim, and a retreat to prep for.
I’m here — teaching, mothering, moving, sweating, and praying the way she did:
With both feet planted, a spine like steel, and a little chalk on my hands.

Because around here, we saddle up, stand tall, and teach like the chalkboard never lies.

🐎 Learn More or Book a Retreat:

Join us for a Pilates Cowgirl Weekend at the farm in East Texas — where the chalkboard’s still in use and every woman is reminded of her wild, strong, free self.

📍 elmwoodplacetx.com
📧 pilatescowgirl@gmail.com
📲 Venmo: @Melody-MortonBuckleair

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Instagram: @thepilatescowgirl | @elmwoodplacetx
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