Some places quietly enter our hearts before we can understand why. I first sensed it while driving through upstate New York this summer. I felt deeply drawn to the lush green surroundings, the majestic silhouettes of the trees, the grass, the groundhogs, the deer, and the silence and stillness that felt like a sacred land. Everything around felt dear and welcoming; there was no hustle or rush. No forcing to experience anything, just a gentle invitation. I had never been here; however, somewhere inside, it felt like belonging and wholeness, from the depths of my soul.
Friendly bushes surrounded the dusty country dirt roads and greeted the travelers with the shadows of their branches.
The thick, earthy smell of the field after the rain stayed in the air. The rain brought freshness to a land that seemed to welcome every drop.
I was captivated by the sunsets. I wish I could hold the flames of the orange sunset in my heart forever.
Meeting Joel, a sheep and an old soul, felt unlike any encounter I had experienced before. We stood quietly together, looking into one another’s eyes. Something passed between us that seemed to exist beyond words, somewhere between feeling, knowing, and recognition. I have no language for it, and perhaps I do not need one. It was something that made me want to remain there, inside the moment, rather than leave.
I knew our time together was limited, and I felt reluctant to leave. In a fleeting moment, I reached for my camera with unsteady hands. “May I please take your photograph?” I whispered, looking into Joel’s deep eyes.
I never had a chance to say goodbye to Joel. I stood by the closed gates in the evening light and gazed at the field and the place where Joel lives. In my soul and my mind, I thanked him for his presence and for the heartfelt companionship we had shared. When I speak to Joel silently in my heart, I ask him to please remember me.
I thought I was traveling to upstate New York for my graduation as an Animal Chaplain. Before I arrived, I thought the trip would be exhausting. I was nervous and wanted to return home as soon as possible.
I did not know I was entering a relationship. Joel introduced me to a strange experience of loving someone whose daily life continues thousands of miles away from mine. Joel became a bridge, a doorway that widened my sense of kinship. From one gentle sheep, Joel helped me to connect with other sheep, other animals at the farm, wild animals, trees, and beings whom I will never know personally.
The land allowed me to witness a place where animals were regarded differently, with dignity, love, and care. Maybe my feeling of sacredness comes from experiencing breathtaking landscapes and meeting amazing beings that are dear to my heart? Maybe the land became sacred in my heart after I met people whose care for vulnerable beings felt like an expression of reverence for life?
I witnessed another expression of this reverence while I was there.
Four people interrupted their busy day for a being they hadn’t known. Our class gathered to bury an unknown cat whose life was cut short on the roadside. Someone brought flowers, and stones marked a resting place.
I returned home carrying a relationship that changed the way I understand connection, and something deep in my soul never completely left. I found myself thinking about Joel long after returning home.
Perhaps this place remained so powerfully with me because I witnessed something there that I desperately needed to know existed in the world. People stopping. People noticing. People saying, through their actions, that this being mattered.
During my trip, I witnessed different expressions of the same thing: reverence for individual life. I discovered a world in which a sheep could become my friend. Where people would interrupt their work for an unknown cat they had never known. Where an individual being didn’t have to be useful, famous, owned, productive, or even known in order to matter.
Perhaps that is what felt like home.
A note of gratitude: This reflection was inspired by my time at Farm Sanctuary in Watkins Glen, New York, and by the remarkable beings I had the privilege of meeting there. I am deeply grateful to the people whose compassion and care made this experience possible.