Month: March 2022

As I prepared my mind to go on leave, I shared with a coach that to pause what I’m building made me feel a bit powerless. He asked, “what about surrendering makes you feel powerless?” I paused. Hearing that back immediately provided me with a perspective shift. 

I wasn’t powerless. But rather, so powerful. To surrender what was, allows for what can be. This is the time to live this life I’ve been building towards. To go all in on this new human, this new family structure and each of our emotions that, as many of us know, require such intentional time and attention. That is so, so powerful. 

I blinked and somehow turned 40, have been raising kids for more than a decade, and celebrated 14 years of marriage. It hit me hard how much time I spent in my first 40 years focusing on things that brought me down, like what people thought of me or am I doing/being enough. Too much of my time went to caring about people and things that didn’t serve me in return. 

I reality checked the guilt that came with that examination of how and where I spent my time. Instead of wallowing, I felt a surprising sense of accomplishment. I was proud of how far I’ve come and who I’ve become. I was proud of my self-awareness. 

If I’m lucky, I have another good 40 years in me and I am now committed to them differently, approaching them with grace and a selective pursuit of happiness.

We are taught that success starts with a plan. And a plan “B.” Plans are necessary in life and in business. 

Sometimes, your carefully thought through plans don’t go according to well, plan. (How many times can I say plan before you question if it’s even a word?)

Four years ago, I tattooed a saying in my dad’s handwriting on my left wrist. If you would have asked me two years before, when he was still alive, if I would walk into a tattoo parlor spontaneously, I would have told you: “never.” A tattoo was never in my plans. 

But every day, I’m reminded of a saying my dad wrote down for my wedding speech, one that my late Nonna taught him: “We make plans and God laughs.” 

I said “never” to a lot of things before my heart was broken. Before grief became something I met every day. I still make plans, a lot of them. My to-do lists have to-do lists. Calendar reminders are a crutch. 

But I’ve learned that nothing is certain, except for uncertainty. 

I’ve learned that we aren’t in as much control over our lives, and our kids’ lives, as we think we are. 

I’ve learned to focus on the good, most days. 

I’ve learned that tomorrow may not go according to plan, and I’ll try to be ready for that.