In memory of Jane Goodall, and the generations she taught to see the world with gentle eyes.

Small moments of magic surround us if only we choose to notice them amid life’s clutter and chaos. They serve as gentle reminders that wonder never truly fades, only waits for us to look up and notice. 

I’m on my fourteenth day in Paris, still carrying the warmth of an evening shared with a remarkable twenty-four-year-old who has called this city home for six years. Lauren’s story first appeared in the debut volume of SHE, where she bravely spoke about her struggle with anxiety and an eating disorder. Over dinner, we both realized that those difficult years, while defining, were just one chapter in a much larger story she is now writing with her life.

Today, she’s thriving, earning her master’s degree, leading campaigns for Gen Z audiences, and creating space for young people to pause, breathe, and experience what’s right in front of them; to remember how amazing they and life truly are. Her latest campaign calls it “The Micro Moment Movement.”

As I was about to share our conversation, I learned of Jane Goodall’s passing. The timing felt nearly divine. My chat with Lauren had centered around one of Jane’s lifelong themes: our shared pursuit of balance and wholeness.

We discussed how our generation, perhaps more than any before, holds both the privilege and the responsibility to become complete human beings. But will we? And can the next generation do the same? Lauren and I remain optimistic. We agreed that if each of us tends to our inner ecology—our integrity, compassion, and calm—those qualities will spread outward into our relationships, communities, and the larger world.

Jane Goodall embodied that kind of presence. She understood the slow progress of time and the healing rhythm of entire ecosystems. For decades, she observed her beloved chimpanzees in Gombe Stream National Park. Then, in her sixties, she shifted her focus to humanity itself—our fears, misunderstandings, and fragile hope. She spent her later years traveling the world, often with young people, reminding us that to care for the Earth, we must first care for one another.

My evening with Lauren reminded me of a simple, radiant truth: life’s meaning lies in the quiet, circular moments of everyday life… a smile from a stranger, my husband’s grin on a late-night video call, the scent of autumn in the Tuileries Gardens as my sons walk beside me, the courage to choose love over fear, and laughter over dinner with a friend who radiates grace.

These are the micro moments, the glowing fragments that make life shine.

I’ll continue to pause for Lauren and Jane, celebrating their generous, insightful, and radiant lives. Knowing that across space and time, I am surrounded by souls like theirs. All I need to do is slow down enough to feel the quiet heartbeat of wonder within them, and within all of us.