What Wild Horses Taught Me Before I’d Even Seen Them

I’ve been deep in the planning for July 2028’s Sable Island expedition, reading everything I can about the place before I set foot on it myself. And somewhere in all that research, I found something I didn’t expect: a wellness lesson from a herd of wild horses.

Sable Island’s horses have survived for centuries on a sliver of sand in the open Atlantic — no shelter to speak of, no one intervening on their behalf, nothing extra. And what struck me is how they’ve adapted. Not by toughening up in the way we usually picture resilience. By conserving. Staying alert without staying anxious. Moving as a herd instead of carrying everything alone.

It made me think back to Antarctica, oddly enough. Standing on deck in that soft polar light, what I remember most isn’t the scenery — it’s the stillness. Space to breathe. Space to reset. Space to reconnect with yourself. Two completely different landscapes, thousands of kilometres apart, and somehow the same quiet lesson kept showing up.

We tend to think of a well-earned trip as something we add to — more excursions, more stops, more to see and do and check off. But some of the most restorative travel I’ve witnessed, in clients and in myself, comes from the opposite direction. Needing less. Doing less. Letting a place be enough on its own.

So here’s what I’d offer you this week, wherever your next trip takes you: pick one thing you could leave off the itinerary. Not because you don’t have time for it — because you don’t need it. See what that space does for you.

I haven’t stood on Sable Island yet. But I have a feeling it’s going to teach me this lesson all over again, in person.

Live Life. Love Travel. Return on Life. ❤️
— Sheila