About a month has passed since I shared the story of the mama sheep and her two lambs. The black lamb did not survive. And the grief of that moment stayed with me longer than I expected. But something else has been unfolding since then.
Every morning on my walk, I pass the same pasture. And now, almost every day, the mama sheep comes running toward the fence when she sees me — her white lamb close behind her. She runs in a way that feels purposeful, almost like recognition. Maybe she remembers me. Maybe she doesn’t. Maybe she’s simply responding to movement on the path. But when she looks at me, I feel something that is hard to explain — a quiet sense of gratitude. Whether that is truly hers or simply my interpretation almost doesn’t matter. Because what it does inside of me is real.
I stop.
I say hello.
I acknowledge her.
I acknowledge the little life beside her.
I acknowledge the loss that happened there just days ago.
And in that moment, something in me settles. This simple pause has become a small daily ritual. A moment of ReSouling. In the midst of full days — work, leadership conversations, corporate environments, decisions, politics, complexity — I step out of that world for a few minutes and stand at the fence with a sheep and her lamb. Nature has a way of resetting the nervous system in seconds. It reminds us that life is happening in cycles much larger than our meetings, our inboxes, our pressures, our roles.
Grief and life coexist.
Loss and resilience coexist.
Stillness and momentum coexist.
And so must we. This is something I’ve come to believe deeply:
The contrast between nature and the world of work isn’t something we should try to eliminate. It’s something we need to hold together.
Because when we pause long enough to feel life — to notice the animals, the air, the quiet, the small moments — something inside of us reorganizes.
Our nervous system recalibrates.
Our perspective widens.
Our energy returns.
That is ReSouling. Not escaping life. Not leaving leadership or responsibility behind. But remembering how to be human inside of it.
The month has tugged deeply at my heart. But they have also reminded me how powerful it is to stop for a moment…
to acknowledge life…
to acknowledge loss…
and to simply be present.
Sometimes the most profound resets don’t happen in big breakthroughs. They happen quietly. Standing at a fence. Saying hello. Letting nature remind you who you are. ✨
