Over the past few weeks, I’ve found myself thinking a lot about the courage it takes to reinvent ourselves.
I’ve had a lot of conversations with clients, friends, and colleagues over the past few weeks who are standing at a crossroads. Some have made the difficult decision to leave roles that no longer align with their values. Others have reached a level of burnout where they simply can’t tolerate a system of working that asks them to sacrifice their health, relationships, or humanity. And some didn’t choose the change at all—they were let go.
No matter how the chapter ends, I continue to believe that rejection is often redirection. Not because it doesn’t hurt, but because it creates space for something that couldn’t have emerged otherwise.
Living in the Columbia Gorge, it’s cherry season. This week I was out picking cherries, and I couldn’t help but notice how nature never questions its seasons. The trees spend months growing, they bear fruit in abundance, we enjoy the harvest… and then they let go. They don’t cling to what was. They trust the cycle. They rest. They regenerate. They prepare for the next season of growth.
There’s wisdom in that.
We often expect ourselves to produce continuously, as though every season should look the same. But maybe this season isn’t about producing at all. Maybe it’s about releasing. Listening. Recovering. Becoming.
I’ve come to believe that reinvention rarely happens in one dramatic moment. It unfolds through quiet conversations, moments of stillness, unexpected insights, and the small choices we make every day to move toward what feels more true.
That’s why I’ve been intentionally gathering a small group of people who are in their own season of reinvention. People taking a breath. Paying attention to the micro-moments that spark clarity. Letting go of what no longer fits. Planting the early seeds of what’s next.
It’s called ReSoul Labs, inspired by the framework in The ReSoul Revolution. It’s not about having all the answers. It’s about creating space for honest reflection, meaningful conversation, building gentle momentum alongside others navigating change to create direction and reinvention.
I’d love to hear from you. Are you in a season of reinvention? What are you releasing… and what are you beginning to grow?
Sometimes the most courageous thing we can do isn’t hold on.
It’s trusting the next season.
