Ridge and Rust

Ridge and Rust Rooted reflections, handmade offerings, and quiet wisdom from the ridge.

Guided by the woman who’s learned when to stand, when to wait, and when to tend the fire.

Some dreams arrive all at once.Some arrive shelf by shelf.Jar by jar.Notebook by notebook.I can see it so clearly.A Reik...
06/24/2026

Some dreams arrive all at once.

Some arrive shelf by shelf.

Jar by jar.

Notebook by notebook.

I can see it so clearly.

A Reiki room filled with the things I have spent years learning, creating, testing, and loving.

Shelves lined with herbs gathered for healing.

Hand-poured candles glowing softly in the corners.

Balms and oils made with intention.

Bath salts for women learning to rest.

Journals waiting to hold someone’s story.

Not because every person needs every product.

But because sometimes the thing that helps us return to ourselves is different for each of us.

For one woman it might be an hour on the Reiki table.

For another it might be a journal and a quiet evening.

For someone else it might be a candle, a balm, a cup of tea, or a simple ritual that reminds her she matters too.

This room is a dream.

Not because of what fills the shelves.

But because of what happens here.

The exhale.

The remembering.

The returning.

And while it may not exist exactly like this today…

I think every dream begins by seeing it before you can step inside it.

✨ If you could add one thing to your dream healing space, what would it be?

From the ridge, always.

— Burgandy | Ridge & Rust

This evening, Sam and I were sitting in lawn chairs in the pool.The water was still.The sky was clear.And for a little w...
06/24/2026

This evening, Sam and I were sitting in lawn chairs in the pool.

The water was still.
The sky was clear.
And for a little while, there wasn’t a single thing chasing me.

No mental checklist.
No problem-solving.
No running through tomorrow before today was even finished.

Now, don’t get me wrong. There is plenty that needs my attention. Laundry waiting. Projects half-finished. Ideas scribbled in notebooks. The usual things that make up a life.

But for those few moments, none of it felt urgent.

I have spent enough years believing that rest had to be earned. That I could relax after everything was done.

The trouble is, everything is never done.

There will always be another project.
Another responsibility.
Another reason to wait.

Tonight reminded me that peace isn’t found at the end of the list.

Sometimes it’s found in a lawn chair, sitting next to the person you love, with the sun on your face and nowhere else you need to be.

And for a little while, that was enough.

From the ridge, always.
— Burgandy | Ridge & Rust










A few days ago, I found this little guy drowning in our pool.He looked exhausted, waterlogged, and completely spent.So I...
06/22/2026

A few days ago, I found this little guy drowning in our pool.

He looked exhausted, waterlogged, and completely spent.

So I scooped him out and tucked him into one of my succulents to dry in the sun. I figured he’d rest for a bit, gather himself, and fly away.

Instead, he apparently decided we were friends.

Now every time I step outside, there he is.

On the porch.
Near the door.
Checking on whatever I’m doing.

Like he has somehow decided that after one rescue, he now has unlimited visiting privileges.

It made me laugh, but it also made me think.

I’ve learned that some of the sweetest parts of life arrive disguised as interruptions.

A bee in a pool.
A conversation you weren’t expecting.
A moment that asks you to stop what you’re doing and pay attention.

Most of us are in such a hurry to get where we’re going that we miss the small miracles standing right in front of us.

Maybe today is a good day to notice one.

From the ridge, always.

— Burgandy | Ridge & Rust









For a long time, Ridge & Rust has existed through words.Through journal pages.Through letters.Through conversations abou...
06/21/2026

For a long time, Ridge & Rust has existed through words.

Through journal pages.

Through letters.

Through conversations about healing, rest, and returning to yourself.

Now it’s becoming something more.

Beginning in July, I’ll be opening a limited number of evening and weekend appointments for Reiki and energy support.

These sessions were created for the woman who has been carrying a lot.

The woman who is always taking care of everyone else.

The woman who knows she needs a moment to pause, breathe, and reconnect with herself.

Whether you’re curious about Reiki, moving through a difficult season, feeling overwhelmed, or simply longing for a space where you don’t have to hold it all together, I’d be honored to walk beside you.

🌙 Evening appointments available

🌿 Select weekend sessions available

Current offerings include:

• Distance Reiki Session

• Returning Reiki Session

• New Client Reiki Experience (90 minutes)

• Reiki + Intuitive Oils Experience

Founding client rates are available for a limited time while I continue growing this practice.

If you’ve been feeling the nudge, this is your invitation.

You deserve a space to be held.

✨ Bookings open for July appointments:
https://calendly.com/ridgeandrust

Questions are always welcome, and you’re welcome to send me a message anytime.

From the ridge, always.

— Burgandy 🌙
Ridge & Rust

For the good of all and the harm of none,I set down what was never mine to carry.I release every burden, expectation, em...
06/21/2026

For the good of all and the harm of none,

I set down what was never mine to carry.

I release every burden, expectation, emotion, attachment, and energy that does not belong to me, that comes with ill intent, or that has reached the end of its purpose in my life.

Like mist lifting from the valley at first light, I let it go.

Like leaves carried downstream after a storm, I release it without chasing it, without holding it, and without fear of what remains when it is gone.

I call my own energy home.

From every place I have wandered.
From every worry that borrowed tomorrow.
From every conversation that lingered too long.
From every version of myself that believed she had to carry more than her share.

I call it back gently.

May it return cleansed by wisdom, softened by grace, and strengthened by all that it has learned.

May what is mine find its way back to me.
May what is not mine continue on its own path.

I have learned that not every weight belongs on my shoulders.
I have learned that peace often arrives when I stop carrying what was never mine to begin with.

So now, I stand like the ridge itself:

Rooted.
Steady.
Unmoved by what passes through.

Only that which serves my highest good may remain.

The rest may return to the wind.

And so it is.










We pulled over for this sky tonight.Most people would probably call it a storm.Dark clouds.Wind in the grass.The kind of...
06/21/2026

We pulled over for this sky tonight.

Most people would probably call it a storm.

Dark clouds.
Wind in the grass.
The kind of evening that makes you wonder if the rain is coming.

But standing there, all I could see was the light.

Not because there wasn’t darkness.

Because the light was still finding a way through it.

The longer I stood there, the more I realized how much life feels like this sometimes.

There are seasons when everything overhead feels heavy.
Seasons when answers are hard to find.
Seasons when it feels like the clouds have taken up permanent residence.

And then, without warning, a small opening appears.

A little light.

A little hope.

A reminder that the sun never actually left.

I have learned that some of the most important lessons arrive this way.

Not in the absence of storms.

But in the realization that light can exist alongside them.

Tonight, the prairie reminded me of something I needed to hear:

The light remained all day.
It was simply hidden from view.

From the ridge, always.

— Burgandy 🌙
Ridge & Rust

Good morning.This morning I was thinking about how easy it is to believe that progress should feel bigger than it does.W...
06/18/2026

Good morning.

This morning I was thinking about how easy it is to believe that progress should feel bigger than it does.

We imagine transformation as something dramatic.

A new chapter.
A clear sign.
A moment where everything suddenly makes sense.

But most of the meaningful changes in my life have arrived much more quietly than that.

A conversation.

A decision.

A small step repeated often enough that one day I looked back and realized I wasn’t standing where I used to be.

Sometimes growth is less like crossing a finish line and more like walking a trail you’ve never taken before.

You don’t always notice the distance while you’re moving.

You notice it when you turn around.

A thought for this morning:

You do not have to make a dramatic change today.

You only need to keep moving in the direction that feels true.

Before you begin the day, ask yourself:

“What small step would make me proud of myself tonight?”

Start there.

From the ridge, always.

Burgandy | Ridge & Rust 🤎










🌙 Letter from the RidgeTonight, I keep thinking about how often we mistake movement for progress.I’ve done it myself.I’v...
06/18/2026

🌙 Letter from the Ridge

Tonight, I keep thinking about how often we mistake movement for progress.

I’ve done it myself.

I’ve filled days with tasks, lists, plans, and good intentions. I’ve rushed because I was afraid standing still meant falling behind.

But the ridge has taught me something different.

When you stand high enough to see the valley below, you begin to notice that not everything moves at the same pace.

The river doesn’t rush the meadow.

The meadow doesn’t rush the trees.

The trees don’t rush the mountain.

And still, each becomes exactly what it was meant to be.

I have spent seasons believing I needed to move faster.

I have spent seasons believing more effort would create more certainty.

I have spent seasons trying to force clarity to arrive before its time.

What I know now is this:

The women who make it the farthest are rarely the ones who rush the climb.

They are the ones who keep walking.

Not because they can see the whole path.

Not because they have all the answers.

But because they trust the next step enough to take it.

If this season feels uncertain, let tonight be a reminder that you do not need to see the entire mountain before you move forward.

You only need enough courage for the next step.

And perhaps enough patience to trust that the rest of the path will reveal itself when it is time.

Keep tending what matters.

Keep showing up for the life you’re building.

Keep walking.

Little by little.

Step by step.

The valley below was never reached in a single day.

From the ridge, always.

— Burgandy | Ridge & Rust

📖 Field NotesI’ve been thinking about certainty lately.We like certainty because it feels safe.It gives us permission.It...
06/17/2026

📖 Field Notes

I’ve been thinking about certainty lately.

We like certainty because it feels safe.

It gives us permission.
It gives us a plan.
It gives us the illusion that we’re in control.

But when I look back at the things that changed my life, very few of them began with certainty.

I wasn’t certain when I started Ridge & Rust.

I wasn’t certain when I began learning Reiki.

I wasn’t certain when I stepped into leadership roles that felt bigger than I was.

I wasn’t certain when I started dreaming about the life I’m still building.

Most meaningful things seem to begin the same way.

Not with certainty.

With a step.

With a willingness to move before all the answers arrive.

I’ve started to wonder if clarity isn’t something we receive before we begin.

Maybe clarity is something we discover because we began.

A few things I’m wondering today:

• Where am I waiting for certainty before taking a step?

• What would change if I trusted myself a little more?

• What is one next step I can take with what I know today?

I’d love to hear your thoughts.

From the ridge, always.

Burgandy | Ridge & Rust

Good morning.Sometimes it can feel like you’re standing in the middle of a field full of seedlings, turning in slow circ...
06/17/2026

Good morning.

Sometimes it can feel like you’re standing in the middle of a field full of seedlings, turning in slow circles, wondering which one needs water first.

There are seasons when everything seems important.

The business.
The dream.
The healing.
The house.
The relationships.
The work.

And when everything feels important, it’s easy to believe everything needs your attention today.

But I’ve learned that not everything that matters needs to move today.

Some things need tending.
Some need building.
Some need waiting.

The women who create lasting things are rarely the women who do everything at once. They are the women who learn which fire needs wood today and which fire can safely burn on yesterday’s coals.

Before you dive into the day, ask yourself:

“If I could move only one thing meaningfully forward today, what would it be?”

Let that answer guide the next few hours.

From the ridge, always.

Burgandy | Ridge & Rust












Address

Shelley, ID
83274

Opening Hours

Monday 9am - 5pm
Tuesday 9am - 5pm
Wednesday 9am - 5pm
Thursday 9am - 5pm
Friday 9am - 5pm

Telephone

+12085692696

Website

Alerts

Be the first to know and let us send you an email when Ridge and Rust posts news and promotions. Your email address will not be used for any other purpose, and you can unsubscribe at any time.

Shortcuts

Share

Category