Renee:
Friday was one of those days.
The kind where nothing is technically wrong, but everything feels like it’s happening at once.
We had a few unexpected cancellations for the retreat. Not dramatic, not personal, just the normal ebb and flow of an event coming together. At the same time, new registrations were coming in from people we hadn’t even known were planning to attend, which felt exciting and grounding in its own way.
By the end of the day, the venue reached out with a handful of details that needed decisions, not huge things, but more things. Add-ons to an already full mental list. The kind that don’t fit neatly anywhere, but still need care.
And outside of work, life didn’t pause.
Two teenagers with packed social calendars.
Rides to and from everywhere.
Client calls are still happening.
And a bridal shower that night for one of our friends who is also a client and partner, something I wouldn’t have missed for the world, even after a long day.
It was one of those Fridays where you’re holding the business, the people, the logistics, and the relationships, all at the same time.
Mark:
I could feel how full it was for Renee.
Not frantic. Not panicked. Just… layered.
That’s often how it looks when you’re carrying a lot with care. Nothing is falling; you’re just very aware of how many things are being juggled at once.
We joke about it with a Cat in the Hat reference, the moment where he’s balancing plates, fish, umbrellas, and somehow smiling through it all. That’s Renee. Calm on the outside, fully aware of every moving piece.
And then, the next day, we had Disney Springs on the calendar.
Not as a break.
Not as “self-care.”
But because Eden had a school event with her yearbook class.
Renee:
On the drive there, I remember saying something out loud to Mark, not as a complaint, just as a noticing, “I have a lot going on right now… but I’m really excited to be with you and Xen and not think about work for the next few hours.”
Nothing had resolved.
The list hadn’t shrunk.
The event was still ten days away.
The emails were still waiting.
But I knew, in that moment, where I wanted my attention to live.
We dropped Eden off with her group and spent the afternoon with Xen walking, shopping, eating, and talking. No agenda. No productivity. Just time.
The pressure disappeared, and I wasn’t postponing life until things felt lighter.
Mark:
That’s something we’ve both learned over time and not gently.
There was a season where life made that lesson very clear: nothing is guaranteed, and waiting for the “right time” to be present is a losing strategy.
Presence doesn’t come after the chapter resolves.
It happens inside the chapter even when it’s busy, unfinished, and unresolved.
Renee:
I used to think presence required space.
Or quiet.
Or fewer responsibilities.
Now I know better.
Sometimes, presence is a choice you make while everything else stays exactly the same.
The emails still come. The plans still shift . The to-do list still exists.
But for a few hours, I wasn’t rehearsing conversations or presentations in my head or solving tomorrow’s problems.
I was with my kid. I was laughing. I was walking next to the people I love.
And that mattered more than perfect focus or perfect timing.
Mark & Renee:
As we head into the final stretch before the Soulful Leadership Retreat, this feels like the real work.
Not managing every detail flawlessly. Not controlling the variables.
But choosing, again and again, where our attention goes, even when life doesn’t slow down to make it easier.
Because leadership isn’t just about what you hold. It’s about what you don’t postpone.
The most important moments don’t wait for your calendar to clear. They just show up.
And you decide whether you’ll be there.