Years ago, I learned
how to truly breathe.
Not just the automated
inhale-exhale we do
while multitasking, but
intentional breathing—
the kind that slows you
down and tunes you in.
Mindfulness entered
my daily rhythm like a
gentle whisper, and
ever since, it’s been a
bridge to clarity, calm,
and creativity.
There’s a stretch of pasture
where my dog and I walk at
dusk, just as the sky paints
itself in fading amber. That
space—quiet, open,
untouched—is where I go to
listen. Not to podcasts or
audiobooks, but to myself.
Each step is a chance to
reflect, to process, and
sometimes, to unravel the
tangled thoughts that come
from leading, serving, and
creating.
These walks aren’t
optional. They are sacred.
It’s where my introverted
soul finds room to expand.
Where nature reminds me
that cycles matter—that
slowing down isn’t falling
behind but syncing up with
something wiser. It's often
after these walks, my face
kissed by country wind and
my heart a few pounds
lighter, that my best ideas
emerge.
I’ve learned that
my most
impactful ideas
don’t arrive when
I’m pushing—they
surface when I’m
syncing. My
rituals—red wine
at dusk, fuzzy
socks while
creating, quiet
solo walks—aren’t
luxuries. They’re
fuel.
MINDSET: EMBRACING THE
CHILL, CHANNELING THE FIRE
SHE TALKS | 35