I was completely oblivious to the power he held or the district’s hierarchy, let alone where he fit into it and why his opinion might matter, because that wasn’t what mattered to me. What was important to me was positioning myself where I could use my gifts with the greatest impact. It just so happened that my gifts were ideal for traditional leadership roles.

Imagine what our world would look like if more people focused on using their gifts with the greatest impact and let go of being seen as a leader.

The Ones Called to Serve & the Ones Eager to Lead

Later in my career, it was interesting to coach developing leaders. There were so many amazing teachers who felt pulled towards leadership, even if they had doubts about their abilities. When I became a school principal, most of my leadership team were just as new to their roles as I was. And they were eager to help me bring calm to a school that had just gone through a lot of turmoil.

But I also worked with teachers who were more focused on climbing the ranks than they were on making a difference. These weren’t bad people. They had knowledge, experience and ideas that were valuable. They were just motivated by the wrong things – what they thought they deserved because they’d put in the time, what they imagined it would be like to have a leadership title, or a certainty that they could do it better than the last person.

I’d support anyone, because coaching was always a part of how I felt called to serve. I was good at seeing people’s gifts, helping to hone and harness them as tools to lead. The ones who didn’t see their natural talents often struggled to own and embrace their gifts, a journey that was fun to help them through and watch unfold.

The ones who were focused on moving up the hierarchy, on the other hand, often misread their gifts, failing to see that doing something well wasn’t the same as leading well. Sometimes I was able to get them to see the importance of leading from a place of service; not just satisfying their desire to have an impact, but really looking at the incremental impact they were making on others each day.

Other times, I saw them get in their own way and create resistance from the people around them.

Why We Need a New Leadership Paradigm

There’s a huge discrepancy between how our culture positions leaders and how we experience the impact of a good leader. When I enter “leader” in a search for stock images, what I get are images of people, often men and always in a business suit, standing with chest proud, arms crossed or hands on hips. That simple search shows just how conditioned we’ve been to connect posturing with power, dominance, and leadership.

What I’ve seen from good leaders looks very different. It’s a willingness to walk beside, sit down with and lean in toward the people they feel called to serve. And it’s time to start changing the leadership paradigm to fit that image.

A growing number of us are starting to realize that we’ve been fooled by the posturing of people eager to lead. We’re also realizing we’ve put too much hope in too few people to pull us out of our collective troubles, believing that leaders are responsible for finding solutions. We’ve singled out leaders when they failed in our eyes, simultaneously failing to see the complexity of the problem and to admit that everyone plays a part in the solution.

Politics is a prime example, although not the only one. Some look at our current (U.S.) president’s tyrannical nature and see him as the reason people have lost faith in our country. But there is a deeper story hidden within his election – a last-ditch attempt to find one person to give us the peace and security we all seek. A desperate hope that someone radically different could accomplish what no one else has. The chaos, conflict and confusion we’re feeling collectively seems like a wake-up call showing us that it’s not a change in leaders we need; it’s a change in our understanding of leadership.

Know Yourself, Then Act in Service

Back to my days as a school principal – there was a teacher who I really wanted to step into a leadership vacancy. She was intelligent, creative, patient, kind, and great with kids and adults. But she had no desire to lead, at least not in the traditional sense. I respected her for saying no and protecting her inner peace. And even though she didn’t accept the position, she continued to lead just by being who she was. In fact, I wonder if accepting the position would have taken some of that away.

The reality is that our current paradigm of leadership is bound to dim just about anyone’s light. Place too many demands on one person’s shoulders and eventually they will stumble.

Shifting the leadership paradigm doesn’t require us to redefine roles or start a PR campaign to reappropriate what leadership means. All it takes is for people to get to know themselves and then act in service.

When we know ourselves deeply - the challenges we struggle with and the gifts we’ve gained through those struggles - serving others is much simpler than it sounds. A gift of imagination can serve by painting a picture of what’s possible. A gift of simplicity can serve by modeling contentment. A gift of humor can serve by making others laugh.

Our shared problems still won’t be solved overnight. It will take time for the world to come back into balance, as each person finds that balance within themselves first. But this longer, slower path shows more promise than anything we’ve seen from leadership so far. The paradigm shifts when enough of us stop searching for the right leader and start asking: what gifts am I meant to share?

Eskrima (also known as kali, arnis or Filipino stick fighting) is a beautiful and powerful martial art. Banned when Spain colonized the Philippines in the 16^th century, the art survived by being taught in sequences that resemble dance moves – large, flowing, circular patterns, deep, precise stances, and movements that glide across the floor, all meant to disguise the use of various weapons.

Tournament categories include demonstrating weaponry skills, primarily with arm length rattan sticks, and sparring against opponents in your weight class. The training was usually more brutal than the actual tournaments. We practiced fighting all our teammates, regardless of age, gender or size. No one was out for blood, but we also didn’t take it easy on each other. Getting used to the sting of a good hit (even through all the padding) and staying nimble (even with bruises covering our bodies and the broken blisters covering our palms) was part of the conditioning.

These are not the parts I look back on fondly! Neither is it the medals that I earned. What stands out when I look back at that time was the freedom I felt - training was the one place where I could set down the many expectations I carried around in most other parts of my life.

Years as a female and a dancer had taught me that I needed to be pretty and presentable. Not only was that not necessary in eskrima, it was almost impossible. We wore padding, gloves and helmets, not just when we fought but also when we did pushups, squats, sprints and whatever other form of physical conditioning would improve our strength and endurance. Ten minutes into practice and I’d be drenched in sweat. And when that helmet came off, any makeup I had been wearing would be smeared down my face accompanied by soaked, disheveled hair. Getting pretty and presentable was a waste of time and energy.

Years of navigating relationships taught me I needed to be polite and years of trying to achieve taught me that I needed to be poised. Those things still applied in martial arts, but there was also space to let out the real and the raw. I’d yell when my lungs were screaming for air. I’d roar when I needed to will my body into action. And if I collapsed on the floor at the end of practice, I didn’t feel judged. I felt honest, human, and strangely alive.

The Freedom to Be Real

Most of the environments we step into have an unspoken expectation that we show up with some level of polish, in our appearance and in our actions. The more formal the environment, the greater (and sometimes more explicit) the expectation. Training for this tournament was the one time in my life where it felt perfectly acceptable to show the messy side of myself. The sweaty, smelly, ugliness of it all was something to celebrate because it meant you were giving your all.

There’s something beautiful about being so ragged and real alongside other people; of not having to hold yourself together like we do in many other spaces.

Being a woman and on the smaller side compared to many of my teammates, proved to be good for me in many ways. My sparring partner was almost always bigger, faster, stronger. As much as I worked on my skills, strength, speed and strategy, letting go and leaning into animalistic instinct often paid off. It put me in touch with a primal part of myself that I found liberating; a part of our nature that we’ve become disconnected from in our curated world.

The fact that my teammates accepted and even loved me in that state felt validating. In low moments, when I had a rough training session or lost a match, it didn’t feel like the end of the world – the rough patches were an expected part of the process, an experience we all shared.

The high moments were even sweeter. When the referee held up my arm at the end of my final match, I couldn’t comprehend that I’d taken first place in sparring. It took a team coach running over, picking me up and swinging me around, to realize I’d won. One person’s victory was the team’s victory because we’d gone through so much together to get there.

Searching for that Feeling

Twenty years later, the thought of grueling workouts and being covered in giant bruises holds no appeal. Connecting with people at that level though – I ache for that every day.

I worked in a public school system for 20 years, which meant I was surrounded by wonderful, caring colleagues. But it was still a workplace. I always felt stifled and constricted, especially the further I moved up the ladder. Professionalism carries an inherent expectation that we only show the best of ourselves, often using nice clothes as armor and forced smiles as a mask.

I’ve tried different types of networking groups, book clubs, and community events, hoping to find a group that embraces the highs and lows like my tournament team had. The highs are always welcome. The lows, I’ve found, rarely are. As kind as I believe people to be, many struggle to deal with their own discomfort let alone hold space for others’.

I’m lucky to have loving, supportive friends and family. But time with them is so precious to me these days that I tend to lean into the joy and fun, refilling my cup and theirs.

Luckily, the universe seems to have heard my plea. I’ve met incredible people who understand the power of deep connections. Many of them have shared the same longing for a community where we can all drop the masks and armor we’re compelled to wear in other places. Because we know this, we build our relationships in a way that doesn’t just allow for those highs and lows; we invite them in.

Creating the Community We Need

Sometimes I’d wonder why I’d spent so much time training in martial arts. Was it so I could test my limits? To make me stronger? To give me something to be proud of? To try to win the respect of others?

All of those things are part of my journey, but only a small portion of my tournament days. What I took from that time training has nothing to do with martial arts, competing, or winning. It was the realization of how the armor I put on then felt more freeing than the invisible armor I put on just to make it through life.

Looking back, it feels like that time was meant to give me a chance to experience what a true community can feel like. The beauty of connections with depth and how that feeling can continue to hold you over time.

Now that I know that it was about connecting with people in a way that made me feel fully seen and alive, I’m devoted to making that a possibility for others. I see how many people feel disconnected, overwhelmed and exhausted from continually having to show up to places that only want pieces of them. I see how that burden dims our light and feeds the worst in us. And I believe that if we can just get back to connecting in a way that is real, we’ll live fuller, richer lives. That sounds like real winning to me.

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How could she have ever doubted her ability to lead people in prayer?! While it felt absurd in the moment, as I watched heads nodding and faces lighting up, later I thought about how common it is for people to be blind to their own gifts.

Sometimes our gifts come so naturally to us that we don’t realize the effort it would take for others to do what we do. Sometimes we’re so focused on skills that lead to results, that we don’t recognize the power we have simply in our presence. Sometimes our attention is drawn so closely to our weaknesses that strengths feel like a foreign concept.

Lately though, I’ve noticed a more pervasive issue keeping people from seeing their own gifts - an unconscious fear of their own power. A fear that if we let that strength inside us really shine, it will alter the nature of our relationships.

Learning to Stay Small

Most of us are led to believe we were too ____ at some point in our lives. Too much, too bold, too soft, too wild... Whatever word you choose to fill in that blank, there’s likely a clue to a raw, natural gift. With luck, patience, and guidance, maybe you learned how to hone that gift. With scolding, harsh looks and disapproval, maybe you learned your gift was more of a curse.

Direct – that’s one way I’d fill in that blank. My family jokes about me coming out of the womb loud and assertive. A three-year old speaking her mind was cute, even funny. But the older I got the less cute that trait became. I could tell that my voice was often unwelcome. I learned I needed to sit back and wait. To say things more gently, or to not say anything at all.

Let me be clear – this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I learned to soften my edges so that others would be able to hear what I said, not how I said it. And I was fortunate to come across people who recognized the power in my words and encouraged me to speak up. That’s how life teaches us – a series of interactions to navigate, at times messy and unpleasant, and at others supportive and empowering.

It’s not until recently that I’ve really come to see the hidden lessons I received along the way. With each reminder to soften my voice, I learned that my perspective was not as important as other people’s comfort. When I stood firm in my beliefs and refused to soften, I saw that the power in my words made people step back in shock, upset or anger. Rather than endangering my relationships, I began to acquiesce to their comfort more often than not. Eventually, my own voice became the stranger, the ostracized one.

Now, already in my mid-40s, I’m starting to reacquaint myself with my voice and to tap into the power within it. I’m leaning into the faith that I’ve built solid relationships that will withstand my “new” way of being. And I’m trusting that the ones that disappear are no longer meant for me.

When Our Strengths are Raw

I love gem and mineral shows, seeing the fascinating colors and configurations hidden within what appears like an ordinary rock on the outside. Our strengths come out much the same way – rough and raw.

If we catch a glimpse of something valuable inside that rock, we may learn to wash away the grime and chisel through the outer layer. To smooth the rough edges and to polish what remains so that beautiful crystals hidden within can be seen.

That takes time, intentionality, and focus. And while our strengths are still rough and raw, they rarely shine with their potential splendor. Our attempts to use these gifts fall short from poor timing, a lack of words to express ourselves, emotions that overshadow our intentions... Sometimes we may even wield our gifts like weapons, cutting off our own power at the knees.

The backlash from those missteps is what makes us fearful of our own power. We see how other people react to our partially polished strengths and decide to limit what we show the world. The power of our God-given, natural talents can be so immense that they feel unsafe; a liability that threatens the relationships we’ve built and the persona we’ve crafted. We may take those half-polished stones, crystals barely visible, and toss them into a box where we shove all the unpleasant parts of ourselves that we’d rather not look at.

Eventually, though, our hidden strengths reappear. We move that box and the bottom falls open. Those stones fall to the ground. They crack. And we remember the brilliance waiting inside us.

Breaking Open in Midlife

Back to listening to Krysten speak in her workshop about moving forward in life with faith: as a young girl, she felt the pull towards a life of ministry. But she learned that she was too different than other ministers, and that she should conform to be more like the amazing women around her. She let the dream of ministry go, tucking away her gift for being a walking embodiment of faith. Until one day when she cracked open under the weight of living a life that wasn’t fully hers.

People might have seen her and labeled this a breakdown. If she had bought into that label, she may have felt broken. Instead, she saw that glimmer of a crystal, that sparkle, that reminder of her inner spirit. She picked up the fragments of stone, saw the gifts waiting for her, and set to liberating her true power. I’ve known her for years and to see her shine now is a wonder.

As I go through my own similar process, polishing my voice through writing and speaking, I have to trust that there’s power in my words. It’s a grind. I catch myself wondering What would so-and-so think about...? How will people feel when I...? Will anyone ever speak to me again if I say...?

But at this stage of life, silencing myself is a choice I’m not willing to make. I keep turning my eyes back to the crystals I’ve rediscovered in my soul. I keep reminding myself that the most powerful force holding me back is me. I keep having faith that as I polish my voice, I put something beautiful and life-affirming into the world, no matter how pointed and sharp my truth may be. And, I keep imagining what’s possible when more people like Krysten and I continue to polish our gifts and step into our true power.

Oh, the sparkles I see in our future…

In her workshop, Kim talked about common patterns that leaders fall into and the need to disrupt those patterns to regulate their nervous system. The first pattern she named was one that resonated deeply with me because I saw it so frequently during my career in education – holding other people’s emotions.

I’d had a lot of experience as a school principal helping people to navigate the impact other people’s emotions had on them – kids worked up because their best friend was ready to fight, teachers distraught by the trouble in students’ lives, administrators carrying the weight of parents’ anger and frustration after a conversation about their child’s behavior. I became skilled at staying composed, creating space for people to express themselves, and supporting them in processing their feelings so they could go on with the rest of their day. My ability to be the calming force for everyone else was a gift I was grateful to have as a leader.

What I didn’t realize at the time was that in holding all that space for other people’s emotions, I wasn’t giving myself the same opportunity to feel, let alone process my own. That realization didn’t come to me until years later, when I was studying to become a National Board Certified Health and Wellness Coach.

The Night of Endless Tears

The program I was enrolled in took a holistic approach to health. In one of the modules, a guest speaker started talking about our body’s natural need to release emotions. I don’t know what else she said because the memory of a night I sobbed myself to sleep came rushing back.

It was my last day of being a school principal and an easy day – the middle of the summer break, the principal replacing me was transitioning in, and all I had on my agenda were a few meetings. I shared laughs with team members, tried not to cry as people hugged me goodbye, then left with a quick glance backwards at the school where I had started my teaching career and come back to serve as the principal.

As I pulled out of the parking lot, the tears came. I wasn’t surprised. That school, my colleagues, the kids and the community meant a lot to me. I had learned so much about individual people and families during my time there, as well as the highs and lows of the human experience. I had been pushed by extreme circumstances and learned that I was capable of more than I’d ever imagined. I was also forced to face my limitations. It made sense that I was sad to leave a place and the people who had played such a huge role in my journey.

But then I kept crying...

And crying...

And CRYING!

Hours later, when my husband was leaving for his night shift, he paused in our doorway and looked at me. I can only imagine the mess he saw! Here was his 39-year-old wife with a successful career sobbing like a hungry, tired, inconsolable toddler. He’d been surprised to find me that way when he woke up and the fact that things hadn’t improved made him uncomfortable leaving me alone.

“I’m fine,” I stammered through a stream of snot and tears. “I’m just SAAAAAAAAAD!”

The tears were gone the next morning. The only clues that the incident even happened were my puffy eyes and the mounds of balled up tissues. I went on to my new job and forgot all about the hours I’d spent sobbing uncontrollably. Until that guest speaker started talking about the role of emotional release in our health.

I wasn’t just sad that day! I was releasing everything I had held on to during my five years as principal! All of my emotions that I’d suppressed so that I could make room to help others with theirs came pouring out of me the moment I was no longer responsible for that school. I had trained my body to hold everything in and the second it had a chance my body pushed it all out!

Emotions & Leadership

We’ve come a long way in shifting the narrative that showing emotions is a sign of weakness, but the stigma is still there. Leaders get an extra dose of that stigma.

All leaders have to work with people, bearing the responsibility of making sometimes unpopular decisions and the emotional weight of people’s dissatisfaction when they can’t solve all problems. Good leaders learn to keep their emotions in check so that they can listen as others share how they feel.

But how many leaders learn the importance of caring for their own emotional needs? That wasn’t part of my master’s program or any professional learning workshops I attended. By the time I was a principal, I was so out of touch with my emotions that I didn’t realize there was anything to care for.

And how many leaders get the message that there isn’t time for their own needs because something or someone else is always waiting for their attention? Kids in crisis, overworked teachers, demanding parents, increased accountability measures...I barely had time to think about myself let alone to make room for what I needed.

I see things differently now. There was always another crisis to diffuse, another initiative to implement, another person waiting to talk, to ask for help, or to fire off complaints. There was no such thing as getting ahead or catching up.

What was possible, though, was finding times throughout the day to check in with myself. What I could have done was prioritize my own well-being, knowing that I could only give others my best when I was balanced, centered and grounded.

I still appreciate my ability to manage my emotions, but I also now know that I need to create space for them.

Getting Practical

I have this funny image in my mind of seeing a fight break out at the end of the school hallway. Students are shouting and crowding around. Teachers are scrambling to disperse the crowd, while administrators are throwing themselves into the middle of the fight. Instead of rushing to help, I pause...look up...and ask myself...How does this make me feel?

Sometimes life moves too fast for us to check in with ourselves when we need it most. But as Kim mentioned in her workshop, there are ways to disrupt unhealthy patterns. If I could give advice to my former self, at the time when rushing to break up fights and have parents scream at me for suspending their children afterwards was a regular occurrence, I would suggest three things:

1. Make time to acknowledge the hard parts of each day and to give yourself compassion. It doesn’t have to be a huge block of time to journal, reflect or repeat loving affirmations, although that’s all great! Turn off the radio and talk to yourself on your drive home. Pause for a few moments in the shower with a hand on your heart and your eyes closed. Or talk to God or whatever higher power you believe in before going to bed. What’s important is treating yourself with the same human dignity and compassion that you, as a heart-led leader, give to others.

2. Remind yourself that your emotions are a powerful force to embrace, not a detriment to leadership. In my post-education career, I coach people using Human Design, a system that identifies 50% of the population as having an emotional authority. In other words, half of us are meant to develop an understanding of our emotional waves and to use that understanding to help us navigate our lives. We not only waste energy trying to suppress how we feel, we can actually drive ourselves out of alignment, making ourselves unwell and even sick. As for the other 50% who operate differently, being in touch with your emotions is still powerful – it keeps us connected to what it means to be human and helps us understand the people we serve.

3. Find people who understand the emotional challenges of leadership and who support your well-being. I’m not talking about happy hours every Friday. While the camaraderie works for some, happy hours often feel more like gripe sessions and unhealthy group numbing. Finding people who make you feel well can be challenging. It may require you to test some friendships, to see who can go deep in a way that feels supportive. It may take finding a therapist or hiring a coach whose sole purpose is to hold space for you. Then there’s the FreshLeap Life community, the community that Kim and I have created alongside other guides because we know how important a nourishing environment is for our well-being, and how hard that type of environment can be to find.

When you’ve spent years holding in your emotions because it was necessary, the thought of letting them back in can seem like opening Pandora’s box. But it doesn’t have to feel that way. When you remind yourself that you are human and that your humanity is what the world needs, you’ve already taken the most important step in the journey.

And if your body needs a long, ugly, snotty cry, let it have its way. I promise it’s worth it.

Looking for a supportive community? Check out the FreshLeap Life or comment so we can connect.

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If you’re thinking to yourself “they must have gone through some kind of traumatic event together” or asking “How terrible was your past?” I hope you’re not disappointed when I say that we had an ordinary relationship and my past wasn’t all that bad. That’s what makes this experience all the more important, though – the ordinariness of it all. Any of us could have a moment like this…

A moment when our body lets us know that we feel unsafe before our awareness realizes something’s wrong. A moment when our mind says “no big deal” but our soul says “NO MORE!” A moment when we intuitively know that we’re no longer the same person, even if we missed the gradual changes along the way.

It had been 6 months since I’d walked away from my career in public education. I’d left, not because I was unhappy there but because I found work that made me feel more fulfilled and fully alive. I rolled the dice, knowing that even if I failed I’d regret not taking the chance. And even though I’d met a lot of challenges along the way and been told the odds were against me, I was grateful for what I was learning about myself and how to trust life.

When this old friend started filling me in on the school system where we’d worked together and how great her own career was going, it gave me a sense of heaviness that took me by surprise. It wasn’t jealousy – I was happy for her and had no desire to do the work she was doing. It wasn’t inadequacy – what feels like success for me is far different from what success meant to her. So what was causing me to have such a strange reaction?

What I realized on the drive home was that hearing her go on and on about a world that had felt so limiting to me dragged my energy back into that world. That out-of-body feeling was my spirit resisting those limitations.

Don’t get me wrong - I’m grateful for the opportunities and experiences I had during my 20-year career! I learned so much about people, systems and humanity. I sharpened my leadership skills and strengthened my resilience. I’d learned how to utilize my gifts and how to navigate my weaknesses. But most importantly, I learned how easily others’ beliefs, expectations and stories (even the good ones!) shaped who I thought I was and made me lose sight of who I truly am.

During the 6 months since I’d last seen this friend, I’d worked hard to shed the stories that no longer served me. Within 60 minutes, I felt all of those things creeping back in and weighing me down. Just being around someone from my past brought on familiar feelings of the past. Luckily, I’d also done a lot of work to rediscover what really matters to me and who I want to be, and I used that to guide me through the discomfort.

Not everyone can turn their lives upside down the way I had when I walked away from a stable career. Everyone can find their way to a more balanced, fulfilling, or alive sense of self. And, everyone deserves that.

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For too long we’ve been told that waking up one day and wanting to change our lives is a sign something’s wrong – at best we’re ungrateful for what we have, at worst we’re on the verge of burnout or in the midst of a midlife crisis. But what if it’s a healthy sign? A sign that you’re evolving? A sign that you’ve learned what you truly need to live a satisfying life? A sign that you no longer need someone else to tell you who you are, because you’re reconnecting with your true spirit? And, what’s possible if that was the perspective you used to guide you through the discomfort of reclaiming your life?

When the messages in our environment tell us one thing and our soul tells us another, amping up the volume of that little voice inside us makes all the difference. It determines whether we create the lives we want or succumb to a life that’s not our own. My hope is that my writing helps you amplify your own inner voice.

I write to offer a different perspective, a more hopeful lens to view life. To tame those voices that hold you back with narratives that help you recognize your own strength. And to nurture your inner spirit through lessons that show the powerful gift you are to the world when you give yourself the love you deserve. Are you ready to take a fresh leap into life with me?

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Jillian Pawlowski, the creator of Embodied Expression, describes the experience as a dance class where women get a chance to dance with their fear. The music starts slow and gentle, with most people swaying in place if moving at all. As the music selections build, Jillian offers cues to match and coaxes people out of their discomfort – Maybe, try taking up a little more space. Move across the room! Shake it the fuck off!!!

While you’re not supposed to pay attention to others (one of Jillian’s reminders is to mind your own business so you can get into your body and out of your head), it was obvious how much more free and alive everyone felt as the evening progressed. Experiences like Embodied Expression are as close as I think we may get to tribal dancing in the suburbs of 21^st century USA.

Most of us have lived lives of constraint and constriction in one way or another. We’ve been taught to keep our feelings to ourselves, to not let our emotions show, to stay calm and composed. Whether these lessons were taught to help us get along with others, to be seen as respectable and strong, or because our emotions have gotten the better of us, we’re rarely taught the cost of holding ourselves together. And without knowing the cost, we’re not taught how to release that pent up energy.

I won’t deny that there’s value in learning to control your emotions. As someone who had some fairly explosive moments in my teenage and early adult years, I’m glad I learned how to keep my emotions from getting out of hand. But I also wish I had known how holding everything together created tension that would stay in my body. I wish I had learned how to hold space for everything I felt, to sit with, process and release the emotions that create that tension.

The good news is that tribal dancing and its therapeutic effects seem to lie dormant in our DNA, ready to support us when we allow it. Dr. Peter Levine, a renowned psychologist and researcher, emphasizes that trauma can’t be healed through the mind alone. He advocates that people physically shake to discharge energy that would otherwise become trapped as tension in the body. Like animals in the wild after surviving an attack, shaking seems to be our hardwired response to reset our nervous system. Doing so to music and in community is a bonus to being a member of the human species.

I hope that practitioners like Jillian will be able to bring experiences like Embodied Expression to more communities. It’s so powerful and needed in a world where so many people feel overwhelmed, lost, and uncertain. It’s not just her supportive and empowering guidance that makes the experience so magical. It’s also the impact of sharing a space with others in the process; the electric buzz that quietly creates connection.

If you can’t find an Embodied Expression-like experience near you or are still too conscientious to try this around others, don’t let that stop you from reaping some of the rewards of this practice. Here are some things I suggest you try:

• Dance where no one else is watching. I know the saying is “dance like no one else is watching” but for many people that’s easier said than done. Embodiment is about more than moving your body; it’s about connecting with what is happening internally. Finding a space where you’re free from curious and possibly judgmental eyes, including your own (i.e. no mirrors), takes away some of the pressure to perform and allows you to move more freely.

• Try a playlist with unfamiliar tracks. We form emotional attachments to music, often linked to specific memories or significant time periods in our lives. I’ve found that my body moves in different ways when I dance to songs I don’t know or, better yet, music without lyrics. With so many playlists available through different apps, there’s a lot to choose from. Experiment with what you find and see what moves you, internally and externally.

• Start and end with music that’s slower and more subdued. By starting and ending your dance session in this way, you give yourself a chance to tune inwards and notice how your body feels. Notice the depth of your breath, the sensations pulsing in your belly or your chest, and where your body is asking for some tender loving care. Then let those thoughts go and let your instinct move you.

• Shake it off! Literally! Feeling flossy? Is the Carlton calling your name? Sure, throw those moves in! But try to stretch yourself and see what comes out of your body on its own. A little shaking of your feet or even your fingers could lead to moving your body in surprising ways and help you to realize just how much you’ve been holding in.

I’m not gonna lie – my feet and shins are still a little achy from all the stomping that my body seems to want to do! But it’s a good ache; an ache that reminds me of how alive I felt on that dance floor. Of how connected I felt to my soul. Of how grateful I am to have said yes to joining other women in this experience. And when the ache subsides, I know my heart will be itching for another opportunity to do it all again.

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I heard the same theme of wanting to clear out or let things go come up in conversations with clients and friends. I saw it in social media and Substack posts. And I noticed that those who listened to their intuitive hits and trusted the pull of that energy were better able to navigate the discomfort that comes with change. Recognizing the way that wood snake energy influenced so many people left me eager to find out what to expect beginning February 17 – the start of the Year of the Fire Horse!

If that gives you an image of a powerful steed bursting through flames, you’re on the right track. The Year of the Fire Horse is bound to bring bold, powerful, fiery energy.

Collectively we’ve already started to sense that energy – the freedom-loving and independent spirit of a horse coupled with the bold, driven, and intense nature of fire. The clearest glimpse most of us have seen recently is in how large masses of people are responding to the U.S. president’s actions and statements. Even someone like me who hates talking about politics and could easily insulate myself from the news feels compelled to take action.

It’s likely that over the next year we’ll all experience surges of emotions that feel like a call to action. When what’s tugging at so many of our heartstrings are the acts of violence, outrage and denigration we keep seeing in the news, this could make the near future seem a frightening and for good reason. Anxiety, anger and other fear-based emotions can lead us to react in ways that aren’t always the healthiest or most fruitful. It can even make some of the most calm and rational people susceptible to mob mentality, justifying one hurtful act as a reasonable response to another.

But I don’t believe that’s the direction that any of us want to take. I saw a video of a dance party breaking out in the middle of an ICE Out demonstration. I stood by hundreds of people along the Walk for Peace route and saw thousands more do the same in other states. The fiery, fierce calls to action we’ll be feeling this year have the potential to be an empowering and unifying spirit. The question to consider that would serve us all well right now is, How will I take aligned action in the Year of the Fire Horse?

Aligned action is all about choosing how to respond when something is stirred within you. It’s about allowing even the most unpleasant emotions in and, instead of reacting from that place, giving yourself time and space to explore what you feel. What do those emotions say about my triggers and my limits? What’s at the heart of my fear or frustration? What’s the energy I wish were in the world instead? And how might I respond in a way that aligns with that energy?

Taking the time now to explore what aligned action looks like for you could serve as the saddle and stirrups that allow you to ride the upcoming fire horse year with dignity and grace. Here are two exercises you can try:

1. Imagine yourself at 80 or 90 looking back at your life with peace and satisfaction. (Pause and really allow yourself to feel that serene energy before moving forward with the exercise.) There are sure to have been obstacles and challenges in your life, but you navigated them in a way that makes you feel proud. How did you respond in times of difficulty or crisis? What do you want a grandchild or other loved one to admire about you or emulate from you? And what does it take for you to stay true to this part of yourself? Get clear on the kind of person you want to be and use those ideals to help guide you when emotions run high.

2. Think about actions you regret, times when you were embarrassed or ashamed of how you reacted to situations. Maybe you lashed out at others in a fit of rage, or maybe you were quietly complicit when you wish you had spoken up. What have you learned from those moments? What advice would you give or what wisdom would you share with that younger version of yourself? And what do you need to forgive yourself for? Harboring resentment towards yourself weakens the power of the lessons you’ve learned, while forgiving yourself allows you to integrate those lessons in an empowering way.

Whether you are ready for it or not, the fire horse energy is coming. 🐎🔥 You get to make a choice – get swept up in heated moments and get burned by the flames, or saddle up, mount up and gallop off using that energy to propel you forward. It may still feel scary at times, but aligned action will help you find your own inner strength and courage.

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That may sound grim but there’s something hopeful I see brewing beneath the surface. I see more posts ending with questions – What are we doing? Is this really who we are? Rather than taking that as a sign that people are losing hope, I believe we’ve collectively come to realize that we’ve offloaded responsibility onto external authority figures and inanimate systems for too long. Recognition that the longer we justify inhumane acts based on our political beliefs or even our personal experiences, the more we degrade the ideals behind democracy. Worse still, the more we degrade our own human dignity.

I know many people are afraid of what we’re witnessing. There’s too much that resembles the kind of authoritative overstepping and civil unrest that’s led to mass violence and wars in the past. While that fear creeps into my own mind at times, my heart puts me at ease. My heart believes that the vast majority of us yearn for peace, believes our inherent nature is loving and communal, and believes that, despite the maxim, history does not have to repeat itself.

But what about those in power?

It may be hard to believe that war or at least mass violence isn’t in our future when the headlines are plastered with aggressive declarations. I read an article summarizing the statements made by different agencies after the shooting of one demonstrator in Minneapolis. It included the backlash those statements had on advocacy groups once considered their allies. My first reaction was to feel fearful of where this chaos might lead.

When I took a breath and sat with that chaos though, I saw another picture. It’s as if the power-hungry who maintain their authority through threats and fear-mongering have become disoriented from trying to keep up with their own games. Turning on each other is a sign that the old ways are crumbling.

I once heard that rat snakes under stress often accidentally attack and eat their own tails, leading to their death. To me, it seems as those in the old guard are turning on each other and bringing on their own demise.

That can still leave us feeling uncertain and frightened, but I believe the masses are ready for a shift which requires some uncertainty. There’s a reason why words like polarization and patriarchy have become mainstream. Collectively we’re grappling with how putting faith in systems has led us into dark times. The mass demonstrations may be focused on federal immigration tactics, but on a broader scale they’re a sign that the average person believes in and is willing to stand for human dignity. If we have the fortitude to center ourselves, to stay grounded in our shared humanity, and to continue holding up a mirror to the actions that diminish our human dignity, I have no doubt there is something brighter waiting for us on the other side.

Staying Centered and Grounded

I realize that having hope in our heart is one thing, but navigating through negativity and fear is something completely different. For most of us, it takes cultivation and intentionality to stay centered and grounded in extreme situations.

Staying centered and grounded are often used interchangeably. I see them as two sides of the same coin. Being centered comes from cultivating inner peace and strength. It’s about knowing what’s in our hearts and not allowing fear to deteriorate or hide what’s there. On the other side of the coin is being grounded or our ability to be present in the moment without letting our energy get swept up by the circumstances around us. It’s about managing our own emotions in a way that allows us to choose a response that’s aligned with the light inside us rather than reacting from the darkest parts of ourselves.

Being centered and grounded isn’t always easy, especially when we’re surrounded by pain or fear. Still, they’re the greatest tools we can cultivate because it allows us to choose actions and words that are more likely to lead to a positive outcome.

As a school principal, I worked with young adolescents. Between the drastic changes in their hormones and the instability in many of their lives, I regularly faced chaotic, often aggressive swirls of emotion. Yelling louder and throwing out threats did not lead to lasting, positive change, although I admit that when violence broke out I resorted to those behaviors. What did lead to positive outcomes was my ability to stay centered in my belief in every person’s potential and to stay grounded so that I could be a stabilizing force in chaotic moments.

In this current political climate, we could all benefit from cultivating our capacity to stay centered and grounded, if not to provide stability for others, than to create stability for ourselves. If you’re not sure where to start, here are two suggestions:

• Get familiar with the most loving and humane parts of yourself, and remind yourself of those qualities regularly. At my core, I saw potential in every student and whole-heartedly wanted them to have a chance of reaching that potential. Staying anchored in that belief helped me stay open-hearted, even during the times when I was faced with hateful words and violent behaviors. In a world that idolizes strength and power, we have to be more intentional about recognizing the parts of our nature that connect us back to our humanity. Strengthening your connection to your loving, generous, and compassionate spirit helps create inner peace and to stay centered in that peace when times are tough.

• Get familiar with the sensations that let you know when your circumstances feel unstable and learn how to reset your nervous system. Nervous system regulation is another topic that’s become mainstream because there’s a collective awareness of our need to reconnect with our body’s internal warning systems. The first noticeable sensation for me is my temperature rising. Whether I was dealing with a challenging situation or I was just overwhelmed by the immense responsibility of running a school, feeling my temperature rise let me know I needed to slow down for a moment...breathe a little deeper...and choose how I responded more carefully. When you know your own warning signs and find supportive ways to ground yourself, you can respond in ways that are aligned with who you are at heart.

Just like I saw potential in each student, I see potential for humanity as a whole. If you look deep enough past frightening headlines and loud agitators, you can find quiet yet powerful glimpses of the masses who want to create a better world for all. It may be messy and it will take time. That means now is the perfect opportunity for us to reconnect with ourselves and our humanity. If we can do that individually and then come together from a more centered and grounded place, anything is possible.

Over the past year I’ve spent a lot of time learning about different systems and traditions for self-discovery and exploration. I’m open to learning about just about anything, from things like hypnosis, astrology, tapping and Human Design. Each time I dig into learning, I find something so powerfully resonant that I can’t believe it’s taken 40+ years to open my mind to these systems!

One thing I came across recently that really has me thinking is about 2025 being the year of the snake. I don’t know much about the Chinese zodiac, but I have learned the year of the snake is all about transformation, rebirth and wisdom. And like the discomfort a snake feels when shedding its skin, the process often is uncomfortable. Looking back, I see this theme woven throughout my past year.

I’ve decided to say goodbye to some ideals and expectations that I’d been holding on to (for myself, for others, about life) realizing that clinging to them only held me back. I’ve let go of trying to conform to traditional approaches to business, learning to track down the rare resources and support that are more aligned with my values. I’ve even had to shed some structures and relationships that felt familiar and safe, because I needed the distance to wriggle my way forward.

Letting go is rarely easy and the metaphor of a snake shedding its skin is spot on. There’s the itch that told me I needed to be free of old skin, the outdated parts of my identity. There’s what feels like disorienting cloudy vision as I navigated unfamiliar territory. I felt emotionally drained and stressed at times, and the only relief came from hiding out and waiting. And like snakes soon after the shedding is done, there’s the sensitivity of their new skin, much like I feel every time I’m reminded of how vastly different I’ve chosen to approach my life. Even with all that discomfort, when I look back now I wouldn’t have it any other way.

We all go through periods of life where old habits, outdated stories, and misaligned expectations cling to us, sometimes as much as we cling to them. I lived like that for years, sensing there were things I needed to let go of but not quite sure what that meant. Sometimes I didn’t know what was troubling me, like that old skin was hidden from my line of sight. Even when I sought help, asking others to hold up a mirror, I still couldn’t see the full extent of what I was attached to. And there were moments when the thought of making a change felt too overwhelming. It seemed easier to keep up with the life I’d normalized, no matter how stressful and unhealthy. Until, that is, my spirit finally said, “enough is enough.”

Without even knowing about the year of the snake and what it represents until recently, this year I took a more intentional approach to letting things go. It was like my soul knew what it needed before my mind knew. While a snake might rub against rocks and squeeze through tight places to help speed things up, for me the process required a lot of stillness – acknowledging something was shifting...letting the discomfort in...practicing patience and self-compassion...seeing where it would take me. And every time I’ve come out on the other side grateful and feeling renewed!

If you’re wishing I had sent this sooner or wanting to do your own shedding in the short time that remains in 2025, I have good news – the Year of the Snake runs through February 16, 2026 the eve of the Chinese New Year! You’ve got time! And if this idea feels a little daunting, maybe these steps can help you do your own shedding:

1. Look to what you’ve already shed in your life. While the Chinese zodiac happens in a 12-year cycle, our lives are full of opportunities to let things go. What habits, beliefs, ideas, people or places have you let go of because they were no longer good for you? What were the intentional practices and daily reminders that got you through? Give yourself credit for what you learned, the resilience you developed, and consider how those things can serve you now.

2. Choose one belief that needs to change and name why. Beliefs hold a lot of power and at the same time, we have complete control in changing them. I often hear clients say things like: I think everyone depends on me, so I put my own needs last. I’ve been taught that idleness is laziness, so I never take time to rest. I believe I have to earn other people’s love, so it’s hard to be loving towards myself. Hearing themselves say these words seems to shine a light on just how unhelpful it is to hold on to those beliefs.

3. Come up with a counter to that belief to say it whenever the belief pops into your head. Whenever I think about affirmations, I can’t help but think of the Saturday Night Live character who used to look in the mirror and say “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and dog gone it, people like me.” 😂 Still, there is power in saying affirmations to yourself. Countering the pull to people-please by saying “Other people’s happiness is not my responsibility” or the pressure to overextend yourself by saying “I need and deserve rest” helps to rewire your thought-patterns. Taking a play out of the SNL playbook by saying these things in the mirror can be powerful as well. Just don’t be surprised if it’s more of an emotional moment than a comedic one.

4. Imagine an empowered and enlivened version of yourself that has let this thing go. Repeating an affirmation won’t do much if you’re still clinging to possible disastrous outcomes. Think of how much more energy you’ll have to give to the people and things that matter most to you. Think of how much more balanced and present you’ll be, and the ripple effects that will have on your relationships and experiences. And, if you imagine some sort of fallout from choosing healthier beliefs for yourself, it’s probably good to consider whether the fallout is ultimately worth it. Maybe there’s more to be shed than just a belief.

As we close out this year, I’ll be reflecting on all the things I’ve shed, letting gratitude strengthen those memories and helping me remember the resilience I’ve developed. I’ve already seen how letting some things go has helped me to be more present and loving towards the people around me, reminding me that the effort and discomfort was worth it.

One of the things I’ve shed stands out as I write this – the fear of being open in my writing and letting people see parts of me I’ve kept hidden for so long. For those of you who have reached out and encouraged me, you’ll never know how much that means. And to all, I wish you happy holidays full of warmth, love, rejuvenation, and maybe a little healthy shedding. 😘

A subtle rage stirred in me as I thought about the implications. I’ve been working on not letting external factors impact my internal peace, but it was taking more effort than normal in that moment. I paused. Took a deep breath. Then a different thought came rushing in. What is possible?

Sitting in Discomfort

I’ve been cultivating the practice of thinking in terms of possibilities – looking for the good that could happen in seemingly bleak scenarios, of believing something good can emerge even after the immediate chaos and desperation rolls through. I’ve always enjoyed asking myself “what if...” but I’m not always able to stop my thoughts from spiraling towards worse case scenarios.

Somewhere along the line I realized that spiraling was a pattern born out of a lack of trust and faith in humanity. If that’s not how I feel, if I actually believe that people are wired to be supportive and loving, I had to break the pattern. The alternative – believing that humanity is doomed – is not one I’m willing to choose.

I’ve also been diving deep into the Gene Keys, a system of understanding our individuality and humanity. It’s a modern-day interpretation of the I-Ching, an ancient system out of China. Understanding the Gene Keys is a slow, contemplative process that forces you to explore the dark corners of your heart and mind. Even my Scorpio self gets uncomfortable with this at times. It’s like pulling up all the muck in a clogged drain and realizing that all of that gunk came from you...not cute!

But also like unclogging a drain, once you do it things start to flow. You learn to accept the muck as just another part of life. Hopefully, you become more aware of when your own life flow starts to slow down and take the time to unclog your mind and your heart.

Richard Rudd, the poetic author of The Gene Keys: Embracing Your Higher Purpose, uses three words to describe the spectrum of each of the 64 Gene Keys. One combination jumped out as I caught myself spiraling about the Department of Education’s decision – Gene Key 1 described through the spectrum from Entropy to Freshness to Beauty. Out of entropy (when we immerse ourselves in doom, gloom and disaster scenarios) lies the possibility of seeing things in a fresh, new way. When we allow ourselves to sit in those dark places trusting that something fresh is possible, we can also begin to see beauty in the cyclical nature of life, and how that includes discomfort and even death.

This perspective reminds me of forest fires. As devastating as they can be, it’s nature’s way of clearing out the debris on the forest floor so that new life can emerge. You can accept and work with the cycle, or you can allow yourself to be consumed by the flames.

Finding a Fresh Perspective

There are so many alarming events in the world that are creating a collective sense of discomfort. While lowering the status of degrees in helping professions is not as frightening as wars breaking out or people being hunted down and deported, it’s another example of the upheaval we’re feeling and will continue to feel.

Every decision has a ripple effect. Many of the decisions those in power are making have more of a tsunami effect, threatening structures that feel stable and thereby threatening our sense of safety. Searching for freshness in the entropy of systems and institutions we’ve relied on for decades and centuries, may not sound possible. But what if you played with possibility? What if you were to lean into the idea that as a collective, we need catalysts to shake us and awake us? To force us to imagine something new, different, and (dare to dream!) better?

What if patient care becomes so poor in hospitals that we start coming together around preventive health measures? More people would become conscious consumers of what we put in our bodies – food, alcohol, medications, even air. We might shift the way we gather, from happy hours to walks in the park. We might shift what we prioritize in our spending, from possessions that make us look like we’re thriving on the outside to resources that help us to feel well on the inside. We might see more people trying alternative forms of healing, ones that have survived for thousands of years and are rooted in nature rather than ruled by insurance.

What if the decades-long teacher shortage finally reaches a tipping point making schools unmanageable? Maybe we’ll move away from the large scale, factory model of education to smaller communities of educators and parents partnering together. Large corporations might feel the impact of losing valuable employees and start investing more towards supportive structures that allow people to work and care for their children. Housing and other living expenses could be made affordable for educators in the communities they dedicate their gifts towards. Over time, long-lasting bonds could be formed between educators and the communities they care for, creating more compassionate, supportive relationships for all.

What if the decline in access to therapists and counselors forces us to reevaluate the stressful culture we’ve created, and shift towards something more balanced and humane? What if social work becomes a shared responsibility of many rather than unmanageable caseloads for a few? What if...? What if...? WHAT IF...?!

Maybe the value we place on money will be diminished and we’ll find new ways of recognizing and rewarding people for their contributions. Maybe our collective value system will change and we’ll hold in higher esteem caring for others. Maybe we’ll begin to treat people as assets that are greater than property, and create more compassion and love in the world. Maybe...? Maybe... MAYBE…!

Allowing yourself to play with possibilities brings fresh perspectives that makes the challenges up ahead seem less daunting. Maybe even worthwhile.

Tipping the Scales

I had a boss who criticized me once for being too altruistic. Rather than caving in to her pressure and to politics, I dug in my heels. I wasn’t about to let anyone diminish my belief in the goodness of humanity or choose an option that undermined that belief.

I still feel the fire that her words lit within me. Instead of the quiet rage I felt then, now those flames spread through me with a comforting warmth. I’m proud to be a dreamer. To believe in humanity. To not just choose optimism, but to stand so strongly in the conviction that more is possible, that our nature is to come together and create something brighter. And if that means pushing back on cultural norms, so be it.

I will have to choose my beliefs and my actions over and over again. I will have to continue to sit in darkness, allowing it all in, trusting that I will emerge with more hope and wisdom. I’m willing to bear the discomfort and do the work of staying grounded, because I’ve had enough proof of this process’ power. I continue to find more stories of the good being done in the world, more people transforming their outer world through inner work, more people questioning what we’ve normalized and asking “What if...?”

I realize that this choice is not easy for everyone to make and how heavy the problems in our world can feel. But what if changing the world starts as simply by asking yourself “What if...?” and staying open to what’s possible? And what are you willing to own by choosing not to play in possibility? Which way will you tip the scales?

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Is it weird that I named this thing and describe us having a relationship? After 8 years of visits to Johns Hopkins and wondering if I was slowly developing cancer, it definitely felt like I was trapped in a bad relationship. Giving it a name, especially one that sounded fancy and high-maintenance (no disrespect meant to any of the Chaunceys in the world), helped make a sobering reality feel more light. I could talk about Chauncey and schedule our “dates” with specialists without getting overwhelmed by fear or anxiety.

The whole ordeal was a bit of a nightmare, between the invasive and uncomfortable tests I had to undergo every 6 months, the final prognosis that this was the cancerous type of cyst, the painful procedure and the slow recovery, on top of the stress of numerous surgery postponements and reschedules thanks to the pandemic. Five years later, in great health and happy with life, I could just forget about Chauncey and the whole experience. But over the years, I’ve come to see Chauncey as an important teacher who taught me valuable lessons.

Lesson one: I am not invincible. For years, I subscribed to the idea that we can power through anything. And for years, that’s the approach I took, taking on demanding jobs and signing up for challenging activities in my spare time. When the specialists at Hopkins decided that half of my pancreas (plus my spleen and gallbladder) had to come out, I set my mind to exercising more, eating better, and creating a recovery plan. I was determined to handle recovery like a beast and beat the average recovery time. Boy, did I overestimate what I was capable of! I lost close to 10 pounds during my week-long stay in the hospital. Eating was difficult, so I barely had enough strength to pick up a spoonful of soup, let alone do my daily laps around the hospital unit. During the weeks of recovery at home, I found myself startled and numb by the fact that my will power wasn’t enough to speed up my healing. I had no choice but to slow down and sit through the pain. As uncomfortable as this was, it was something I needed to heal not just my body, but also my mind and my spirit.

Lesson two: The more I ignore my body’s warning signs, the louder my body will get. For years I’d dealt with aches and pains that would come at random times and in different places. They weren’t debilitating and with my power-through mentality, I just ignored them. It wasn’t until just a few years ago that I realized the sudden shooting pains in my leg or stabbing pains in my back were my body’s way of trying to tell me that I was over-extending myself. My doctor told me at each yearly physical that these pains were likely a sign of stress, but I shrugged it off. I was so used to suppressing my emotions that I never thought of myself as stressed. While I can’t prove it, I know that this giant pre-cancerous cyst was formed and fed by everything I was denying. Chauncey was a manifestation of the anger, frustration, anxiety and exhaustion that I had refused to acknowledge for many years. Now, when I feel even the slightest twinge in my side, I stop and ask what my body wants me to know.

Lesson three: I had to take responsibility for the unrealistic and unfair expectations I placed on myself. This insight also came long after the surgery and it came through other parts of my journey – through coaching, through a commitment to self-discovery and healing, through separation from people and places that drained me... Still, the surgery was a sort of wake-up call. When I was too exhausted and uncomfortable to do much else during recovery, I started to question how I had been defining success in my life. It forced me to recognize how hard I’d been on myself, all to feel worthy and valued in the world. I wondered what was possible for me if I could let those things go. Admitting these things to myself also showed me my options. I could choose to keep living the way I always had, or I could forgive myself, get reacquainted with the real me, and live my life according to more loving and life-affirming standards. Choosing the latter has taken a lot of work and intentionality. The process is often uncomfortable, opening up old wounds and forcing me to be honest with myself. The rewards, though – learning to make decisions that allow me to feel nourished and alive, to let go of how other people may or may not judge me, to trust myself and life, and so much more – have made the effort and growing pains worthwhile.

I used to look at the 7-inch scar down the center of my abdomen and think about Chauncey with bitterness and resentment. Now I look at it with gratitude and self-compassion. Without that entire ordeal, I may still be living a life that wasn’t my own, running myself into the ground believing that I had to prove my worth. I needed an experience to jolt me out of the pattern I’d been replaying all my life; to make me see the insanity I had normalized. I needed Chauncey to shout at me and say “Hey! There’s a lot of hurt and pain festering in here. Do you want to deal with it or shall I?”

So, cheers to Chauncey. 🥂 Thankfully gone, but not forgotten.

I’m a National Board Certified Health and Wellness coach, who helps clients tap into their unique gifts and talents to support them in creating more nourishing lives. Sharing my stories is partly for my own growth, but it’s also about sending messages of healing and hope. Did this story touch you? Share or subscribe to let me know.

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In recent years, I’ve been doing a lot of work to better understand myself and to face my own demons. And my demons go much deeper than having a touch of road rage! In doing so, I learned that karma has a deeper meaning. Instead of just the idea that what we put out into the world will come back to us, it’s also about understanding the importance of what and who we attract into our lives. That those experiences and people are meant to be some of our greatest teachers...if we allow them to be.

The idea that you literally attract different people and experiences into your life can be unsettling. Really, that car accident/terrible surgery/bad boyfriend was supposed to teach me something?! Not only has digging up parts of my past shown me that it’s true, I see it written in aspects of my Human Design chart. And, it’s often in my most uncomfortable moments, moments when I’d prefer to shut my eyes instead of face myself, that I’ve learned the most.

Karma is like an invisible force holding up a mirror so you can peer into your soul. If you look, you’re forced to examine not just your thoughts and behaviors but also the parts of yourself that you might pretend or not realize exist. If you don’t look, no worries. Karma will give you another opportunity to look into that mirror, as if asking “Are you ready, yet?!”

I was reminded of this concept of karma recently when I was ghosted. This wasn’t just some person I’d only met once or twice not showing up for a coffee date. It was by someone who I’d invested a lot of time in, given a lot of trust to, and been very vulnerable with. Our last conversation had brought up some strong differences of opinion. I hadn’t expected the differences to disappear. But I also hadn’t expected the other person to disappear, either.

At first, I put on my most diplomatic hat. We’re each entitled to our perspectives. Going our separate ways may be the best thing for both of us. Underneath that hat and the calm façade, though, my blood was boiling! It took a session with my coach for me to recognize how angry I was. Giving me the cold shoulder made me feel used, unappreciated, and disrespected. My brain kept jumping to all the truth bombs I would drop on this person if given a chance. I was eager for a fight!

This isn’t a pretty side of me, I know. At the same time, it was a side I needed to create space for. I needed to acknowledge that rage bubbling inside to recognize the hurt that was hiding underneath it. I needed to work through that pain instead of carrying it around like a weight.

Being ghosted by someone I trusted and cared for wasn’t the Universe’s way of punishing me for something I had done wrong. That’s a surface level understanding of karma. I came to realize that it was the Universe’s way of helping me to understand so much more about myself:

• That I still have work to do through old wounds around trust, relationships, and being vulnerable.

• That I had to learn to stay true to my beliefs and still stay open to others.

• That others aren’t always able to do the same.

Most of all, the Universe seemed to be reminding me that it was ok to feel the full range of my human emotions. Doing so didn’t make me weak. It helped me to understand and appreciate the human experience and, in doing so, I had more options to choose how to move forward in my life.

I’m not gonna lie – that knowledge didn’t make my anger or hurt disappear overnight. What it did do was give me an opportunity to understand myself more clearly. I saw patterns in my past of setting aside my own beliefs to keep the peace, even when it felt like I was compromising my own integrity. I also saw patterns of using other people’s poor behavior as justification to build a wall around my heart, and how that had led me to treating others with the same kind of coldness I was now receiving.

Whew! That’s a lot for karma to teach me from one person vanishing from my life! I could be bitter about it, but I’m guessing there were much gentler lessons I’d failed to see in the past.

In my heart I don’t believe this person is ungrateful or inconsiderate. I imagine that our differences triggered their own wounds and insecurities. I may never be able to confirm this, and I don’t know if our paths will ever cross again. All that really matters is that by giving myself the chance to learn from this experience, I don’t have to hold on to anger and hurt. I can move forward with forgiveness and compassion, choosing to define how I show up in the world instead of letting this experience define me. That’s the kind of karma we could all use in our lives.

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Curious to learn about your unique Human Design? Reach out to learn more.

Along with my other bestie from middle school, Annie rounded out our trio of full-fledged Asians in our predominantly white school. I remember her being the quietest of the group, often giggling with embarrassment at the crazy antics of her two Filipino friends. The three of us getting together to celebrate her success over black sesame donuts and ube lattes also felt like a celebration of our 36-year friendship.

Seeing Annie in her element as a loving wife, devoted mother, and successful businesswoman brought out a vibrancy I had only glimpsed in the past. She laughs more often and speaks and moves more freely. It brought me so much joy to see her thriving. And being together brought out the kids in us, even when we laughed about sneaky wrinkles and thanked God for stretchy pants. (And trust me, if you ever go to her donut shop, you’ll want to wear stretchy pants. 😋🍩🍪☕)

It’s funny how we’re taught to fear aging and at the same time wouldn’t want to die young. Being with these two reminded me that age exists in our minds more than it does in our bodies.

This trip made me realize all of the great things that are possible as we age – getting through struggles and coming out stronger on the other side; having enough life experiences to know what really matters to you; shedding other people’s opinions and expectations, and reconnecting with your true, amazing self underneath. And those relationships that survive and thrive year after year – what a gift to strengthen the faith in your friendships.

I’m sure the future holds aspects of aging that will be more unpleasant. For now, I’m choosing to greet my gray hairs in the mirror and to be kind to my achy hips.

Most of all, I’m carving out more time for the things that make me feel youthful and alive, especially those nourishing relationships in my life. And, while I do my best to eat healthy and care for my body, I DO NUT want to pass up on rare treats with friends. 😉

Annie, Janelle & Chris at Good Lazy Donuts & Stuff, Issaquah, WA.

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Since clients learning about their Human Design type are often curious about the other types, I thought this would be a fun way to share. And if you know nothing about either of these subjects, I hope this post will pique your interest to learn about your design or to binge-watch this TV-MA show. I don’t usually encourage binge-watching, but for this show set in 18^th century Russia I say “Huzzah! (Spoiler Alert – I did my best to not reveal some of the show’s best plot twists, but I’m not promising anything!)

The Generator Type

What better place to start than with the show’s main character, Catherine. She is a bubbly 16-year-old full of dreams for a better future when she travels alone to Russia to happily wed an emperor she’s never met. True to the Generator type, Catherine is warm, caring, and energetic. Even when she learns quickly that her marriage is not going to be the fairytale she’d imagined, it’s hard to get her down. After a disappointing wedding night, she wakes up and creates a to-do list to make the best of her situation, starting with loving her husband and making him love her. Like Generators who are living in alignment with their true selves, she stays focused on staying busy – first, trying to win her husband over and, eventually, trying to overthrow him. (Not a spoiler! History!) She leans into her Generator energy, working hard all day to bring her dreams of a coup to life and collapsing into bed to recharge when she’s satisfied with what she’s accomplished.

Summary of a Generator Living their Best Life:

• Steady store of energy.

• Warm, nurturing and charismatic.

• Follows their gut.

• Feeling satisfied tells them they are living true to who they are.

• Feeling frustrated tells them something in their life is out of alignment.

The Manifestor Type

Peter, the emperor, is a great (albeit cruel and crude) demonstration of the Manifestor archetype. He needs to be free to do what he wants and to exert his influence when he wants. Angry because people see him as weak, he starts a war with Sweden. When he’s bored by the responsibilities of leading a country, he starts a fist fight with the general or tests out new revolvers in the middle of a party. (Again, he’s not the epitome of a Manifestor at their best.) True to the Manifestor type, and of course the authority he has as the emperor, he is a powerful and unpredictable force. Even his closest friends fear his mercurial nature, often cringing in anticipation of one of his outbursts. When Peter informs others of what he wants or what’s on his mind (the Manifestor’s best strategy for creating ease and alignment) people quickly fall in line. Eventually, you get to see past Peter’s extreme nature to his softer side. Like most Manifestors, Peter doesn’t enjoy being in the spotlight at all times. He needs time to retreat from everyone’s expectations and find peace in a good meal or in bed with one of the many ladies of the court.

Summary of a Manifestor Living their Best Life:

• Freedom to do what they want.

• Opportunities to start something (like a project) without having to see it through to the end.

• Time to retreat in solitude.

• Informing people of what they want or what’s on their mind lessens the resistance around them and may even get people to assist.

• Feeling at peace is an indication of their life being in alignment.

• Feeling anger tells them that something is out of alignment.

The Manifesting Generator Type

This type in Human Design is a synthesis of both the Manifestor and Generator types. In The Great, Peter gifts Catherine a lover, Leo, who beautifully demonstrates what it means to live in alignment with his Manifesting Generator energy. Free spirited, warm and with a magnetic personality, Leo pursues many different interests from poetry and botany, to experimenting with flavor combinations and coming up with the Moscow mule. (No, I did not fact check.) Like a Manifesting Generator at their best, Leo’s enthusiasm is infectious. He eventually wins over both Catherine and Peter, dancing along the delicate line of pleasing the empress without pissing off the emperor. In the rare instances that he becomes frustrated or angry, he reminds himself that this is not his true self and turns to nature to find peace and satisfaction.

Characteristics of a Manifesting Generator Living their Best Life:

• A steady store of energy that is more efficient when they get to follow what excites them in the moment.

• Has varied interests, often tied to the physical world.

• Draws people to them with their warmth and enthusiasm.

• Responding to the moment rather than overplanning or overthinking.

• Feeling satisfaction and/or peace lets them know they are living in alignment.

• Feeling frustration and/or anger lets them know when something in their life is out of alignment.

The Projector Type

No one in the show represents the Projector type more than Orlo, an ambassador of the court. An intelligent and well-read man, Catherine quickly sees him as an ally in her quest to improve Russia. Like most Projectors, Orlo looks at the world and especially Russia from a wider lens, seeing what is wrong with the current way of life and how it could be made better. Unfortunately, Orlo suffers the Projector struggle of not being heard or appreciated unless they’ve been invited to share their thoughts. Peter regularly mocks and threatens Orlo, who is compelled to use his Projector insight to steer people’s energy into a more positive and fruitful direction. Orlo is often bitter and frustrated that his wisdom isn’t appreciated. When others do ask for his thoughts, though, they typically value his perspective and recognize his brilliance. Catherine truly recognizes Orlo’s Projector power and enlists him in planning a coup where he is able to successfully use his gift of foresight.

Summary of a Projector Living their Best Life:

• Limited stores of physical energy, but a strong ability to look at the big picture, pinpoint areas for improvement, and guide others in making those improvements.

• Time to contemplate and rest allows them to best use their insight and wisdom.

• Has an ability to see deeply into people, which is unsettling for many. Waiting until they are invited to share makes it more likely they’ll be heard and valued.

• The feeling of success lets them know they are living their life in alignment.

• Feeling bitter lets them know their life is out of alignment.

The Reflector Type

The final of the 5 types in Human Design, the Reflector is best portrayed by my favorite character in The Great - Peter’s Aunt Elizabeth. Quirky and eccentric, there isn’t much that rattles Elizabeth. She embodies the gift of being a Reflector, testing the energies of the different people at court and choosing to go along with the energy that feels most pleasurable to her. Reflectors are thought to mirror the energy and health of their community and Elizabeth does this through her playfully candid remarks that stop people in their tracks. She’s able to resist bad energy bringing her down, as best exemplified when she dances around Peter while warning him of his inevitable undoing. (Best scene ever!) Reflectors are said to be influenced by the energy of the moon and make the best decisions when given plenty of time, known in Human Design as waiting a lunar cycle. This is why Aunt Elizabeth can’t be rushed. She is the character who intuitively understands her type which allows her to live a life full of surprise, the feeling that indicates to Reflectors they are living in alignment. The few times she feels disappointment usually stems from being overly attached to other characters, like stubborn Peter who even she eventually agrees is not fit to rule.

Summary of Reflectors Living their Best Life:

• Takes in and amplifies the energy around them, reflecting back to others their own energy and helping them to see themselves.

• Able to discern what energy is truly theirs. They stays grounded in who they are, often by connecting with nature, and are able to keep other people’s energy from influencing them.

• Able to do their best when they give themselves time to feel things out before making a decision (a lunar cycle or 28-days).

• Feeling surprised lets them know they are living their life in alignment.

• Feeling disappointed lets them know their life is out of alignment.

Curious to learn more about your type according to Human Design? There are plenty of free resources online. One word of caution, though – I haven’t found a robust report that isn’t in some way skewed in an overly positive or negative direction. Just like the characters in this show, we’re all complex beings. Learning about your type is just scratching the surface of what Human Design can teach you about yourself, your areas for growth and your potential. So, if you’re ever ready for more, in true Projector fashion, I’ll be here waiting.

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The conference was for the school system where I used to work. You might think, “that should be a piece of cake!” Afterall, I worked there for 20 years and had led plenty of professional development sessions.

But this time I wasn’t teaching people how to analyze data to determine students’ needs; I was guiding people in identifying their unique kind of energy. My messaging wasn’t about all the ways instructional leaders can support students and teachers; it was centered on the need to care for yourself before you care for others. And I knew I couldn’t show up in the calm, logic-oriented fashion I was known for; I was too energized by all I’ve learned, the sense of self I’ve reclaimed, and the idea of spreading that same feeling to others.

Despite knowing that all of these things were parts of me, I was uncomfortable showing up in such a different way than how people used to know me. I needed to figure out how to integrate these different parts of my identity and not feel like I was some kind of imposter.

Luckily, I had a session with my mentor coach the day before the conference. We unraveled the messy web of fears, hopes, stories and truth that had me feeling so scattered. In the course of our session, I remembered the biggest lesson I’ve learned from studying Human Design and the Gene Keys – Our purpose in life isn’t about the things we do, but in the energy we put into the world by being the person we were designed to be.

For two decades my sense of purpose was defined by the things I did as a teacher and as a school leader. It’s noble work, for sure, but tying my sense of worth in this world to what I did for others left me exhausted and unfulfilled. And when I left the school system to pursue what felt like a true calling, I was wracked with a lot of guilt and shame.

As I’ve integrated everything I’ve learned from Human Design and the Gene Keys, I’ve experienced the truth behind that definition of purpose. The more I let go of external measures of success and lean into my true nature, the more ease I feel in life. I’m in awe of how I seem to be attracting new, wholesome people into my orbit. I'm full of gratitude for how much more loving and nourishing my existing relationships have become. And when I’m alone, I feel more at peace.

At the end of my coaching session, I committed to two things: 1. Letting go of the stories I was telling myself about purpose and who I needed to be for others, and 2. Embracing the energy I’ve gained from the path I’ve chosen in life. I walked into the conference the next day feeling giddy. As if the Universe was patting me on the back for my choices, all day long I was showered by warm hugs and genuine smiles from colleagues I hadn’t seen in years.

Most importantly, my openness and enthusiasm came across in the sessions I led. People told me they felt validated, seen and understood. Several people lingered afterwards to thank me personally, to share the insight they had gained, and to ask how they could share this knowledge with others.

I created and tested this presentation months ago. There were no tweaks to the content, the slides were left untouched, and my message remained the same. What I did choose to tweak was the energy I brought with me. I’m convinced that embracing the discomfort and choosing how I showed up took the content of my presentation and turned it into an energy others absorbed. I felt my purpose pulsing through my veins and radiating off my skin.

Thinking of purpose as in my being and not in what I do has been liberating and fills me with hope. I don’t need an audience. I don’t have to be in a position of authority to influence. I just have to be me – the true version of myself that I’ve discovered – and trust that the ripple effect will have an impact.

So if you’re struggling with purpose, with feeling like you can never do enough, remember that being your beautiful, loving self is enough. Look for those moments when your energy has that ripple effect, like a warm smile or a sincere thanks. And know there are others like me, here to support you when you need it and to cheer you on always.

I’ve spent my entire life feeling rushed by other people’s deadlines and demands. When I started working for myself, I felt that same pressure from years of being conditioned to operate at the speed of light. Somewhere along the way, I gave myself permission to slow down, to let things sit and simmer, and to even set them aside and walk away.

Sure, some things dry up and sag like that raisin in the sun, but I’ve come to believe that those things weren’t right for me anyway. I’ve also learned that things start to move when they’re ready. I’ve received offers when I had the capacity to handle them. Opportunities to expand have presented themselves once I’d developed the skills to embrace them.

The most surprising thing right now is how a project I’ve been dreaming of has started to take on a life of its own. It’s moving so much faster than I could have ever imagined. I’ve found the right collaborators, with the right energy, many of whom weren’t even in my orbit when I first dreamt of this vision. It’s proven to me that I don’t have to push, force, or hustle to make things happen; that there’s power in trusting things to happen at their own time. If I had tried to force this dream too soon, I wouldn’t have had the collective energy, enthusiasm, and gifts to create this explosion of something beautiful.

So for the community I’m building, the clients I long to serve, the book I hope to share, and all the other dreams I’m eager to bring into the world, I’m trusting the Universe’s timing. I’ll continue to build my capacity and hone my gifts with patience. And when the timing is right, I’ll bask in the explosion.

While I’ve opened myself up to many spiritual concepts, I still cringe at some of the spiritual ideas I was taught to believe. The church I used to attend with my family had a beautiful mural of God in the clouds. I’d stare at it in awe through the entire service, zoning in and out of the homily. As much as I loved that mural, I was always skeptical of this powerful force we call God looking like that gray-haired, robe wearing man. In fact, I questioned so much about my Catholic upbringing that it's still hard for me to integrate Christian traditions into my beliefs today. Lately though, I’ve started to believe in angels.

Let me be clear – I'm not talking about the harp-holding, winged, haloed kind of angels who descend from the heavens to offer wisdom or encouragement. My concept of angels is more like a brief encounter that gives me the sense the Universe is sending me a message. When I look back at my life and look for possible angel encounters, I’m reminded of short, subtle moments. A beautiful sunset that left me with a sense of comfort on a difficult day. Locking eyes with a deer in the woods and thinking it was staring into my soul. A warm smile from a complete stranger that made me feel seen and valued.

One my most revealing moments in my life that I now consider an angel encounter was nowhere near as poetic as what I just described. Instead, it was with an eye-rolling, pre-teen kind of angel.

I was a school principal at the time. I had stopped into the cafeteria, laptop cradled in one arm, walkie talkie clipped to my belt. I only had a few minutes between completing a classroom observation and a meeting I needed to attend, and decided to stop by the cafeteria to check on the pulse of the 7^th grade.

I scanned the room, looking for signs of trouble – tears, posturing, or my teammates’ eyes intently focused on a huddled group of students. That day things were calm. Well...as calm as it gets with close to 200 hormonal middle schoolers. I was just about to leave when a young man approached me. He pointed to my hand and asked, “Why do you do that, Ms. DeGuzman?”

Not sure what he was talking about, I held up my hand and saw that I was rubbing my forefinger across my thumbnail. I stopped the motion and stared at my hand for a moment, like it didn’t belong to me.

“I have no idea. You’ve seen me do this before?”

“All the time,” he said with this flippant look on his face that screamed Wow! How dumb are you?!

I commended him for being so observant and, being the typical 7th grade kid, he just shrugged and walked away.

That encounter took less than a minute, yet it’s stuck with me for years. He had brought to my attention something about myself that I had never realized. From that moment on, I noticed every time I did this little motion.

After a week, I realized that the gesture showed up whenever there was a lot on my mind. There’s a ridge across that thumbnail and rubbing my forefinger across it was comforting. That motion was a way for me to ground back in my body; a sort of reassurance that I was ok. My nervous system was clearly telling me that the stress of my job was getting to me.

I wish I could say that from that moment on I started to take better care of myself. But I took pride in being able to do a tough job, and on being the person everyone relied on to stay calm, cool and collected. Plus, I didn’t have time to give this issue much thought. I had too much to do!

Years later, after a lot of other eye-opening experiences that led to me leaving the school system and starting a more aligned career path, I was reminded of the encounter with this 7^th grade boy. I was renewing a mental health certificate with people who had much less experience supporting people with mental health issues and extreme trauma. Wanting to hear how the strategies from the course played out in real life, they kept turning to me to share. After a few short stories, I noticed that gesture reappeared. I took it as a moment to remind myself and the group that helping other people in need takes a toll on your own well-being and that self-care is a necessity, not a luxury or a privilege.

While it happens less frequently these days, I’m much faster at noticing when that signal kicks in. I’m more likely to step away and take some breathing room, and much less likely to judge myself for it. It’s taken a lot of inner work for me to get to this place, letting go of outdated beliefs and expectations of who I needed to be and how I needed to behave.

Would I have gotten to this same place if that student hadn’t brought my coping mechanism to my attention? Maybe, maybe not. Is there such a thing as angels? I have no idea. Was his curiosity really a way for the Universe to send me a message? Who knows? Does my choosing to believe in messages or signs matter? Absolutely!

So much good has come from making the choice to believe that there’s something greater at work. It’s strengthened my belief that our basic nature is goodness and that we touch each other’s lives in unexpected ways. It’s helped me to be kinder to myself and others. It’s allowed me to feel more grateful and alive. It’s empowered me to let go of what doesn’t really matter and stay true to what does.

As pretty as the image of clouds parting and angels singing might be, I don’t need it. Letting go of the images and ideals around spirituality gives me a greater chance of finding the insights I need when I need them. Sure, that mural and the many other images like it are beautiful and awe-inspiring. But I’ll take my angels and their messages any way I can find them, including in a crowded, noisy room that smells of greasy tater tots and sweaty kids.

When a friend told me that we were about to enter a 20-year period of chaos, I couldn’t help but feel a little freaked out. The combination of her intellect, her knowledge of astrology, her security clearance, and her powerful life experiences makes her an impressive source of wisdom. If she was telling me times were going to be tumultuous, you bet I believed her!

More than a quarter into 2025 there’s a lot of evidence backing up this statement. I live in the DMV, so I’m surrounded by people whose sense of security is being threatened by the cuts to government spending and massive layoffs. Then I see the news about wars, humanitarian crises, and climate-related catastrophes across the globe. It all has a bit of a Doomsday feel to it. Still, I can’t help but feel as if there’s something better on the other side of all this.

Leaving a 20-year career in a large organization made me realize just how much I had come to rely on a system, not just to pay the bills, but also to give me a sense of who I was and how I fit into the world. And even though I left by choice and was full of optimism, for at least a year I had to reckon with how unsettled I felt in this new terrain.

One of the most surprising things that came up for me during that time was the amount of resentment I was holding on to. I hadn’t left feeling that way. I was grateful for the experience I’d gained, loved the people I worked with, and believed in the cause. Somewhere beneath that though, I was bitter and angry! It took me stepping away to realize how frustrated I’d been with the often-dehumanizing nature of the work. I was bitter that I’d given up so much of my time, energy, and identity for a system that always asked for more. Most of all, I was angry at myself for being complicit, for not realizing how I felt much sooner, and for having excused it all as just a part of life. Eventually, I took those lessons and made my way through the discomfort. I reconnected with my true spirit and it happened because I’d experienced that turmoil.

When our lives get turned upside down, we’re forced to look at all the pieces and see what can’t stand on its head. It takes time to get past the wild uncertainty that initially comes from being untethered to our norm. When we give ourselves the time to let all of that sink in and allow ourselves to explore what it all means, then we start to get a taste of freedom and possibility.

We question if “normal life” was really ever good for us. Whether it still serves us. Whether it’s really what we want. Whether we want to turn back or choose to create something new.

In the mass dismantling of people’s lives, could we possibly have a collective questioning of what we’ve defined as normal? Can we get through the initial fear that comes with uncertainty and dream of possibilities that feel nourishing and whole? Can we come together and dismantle the ideologies that aren't serving us, and build something brighter and more life-affirming?

I don’t just believe it’s possible, I believe it’s inevitable. There are enough of us tired of the constant striving, of numbing ourselves to get through the week, of measuring our worth by our output, of fitting into systems that don’t fit us.

I hear it in the dreams my loved ones’ share, in the lives my clients create, in the questions people ask me about my own journey. There are enough of us ready for something different – lives that feel nourishing, work that honors our humanity, and a future full of hope. Will you build it with me?

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Then I paused...Do I really wish I had a nearly tragic story just so I can get people to listen to me?!?! Hell no!

It’s true that hearing stories of people who battle with cancer or survive a gunshot wound and live to tell about it are captivating. The revelations that come to them through these tragedies reach into my soul. I find myself cheering for the high-powered CEO deciding to cut back on hours so he can watch his children grow up or the successful woman who jumps off the corporate career ladder because wealth isn’t bringing her joy, all because a brush with death made them rethink their lives.

But when I caught myself in the act of judging my own story for not being tragic enough, I had to pause and question what was at the root of that idea. I've been conditioned to believe we have to follow a trajectory – school, work, retirement, the golden years – and deviating from that trajectory requires a rare set of circumstances. Geniuses breaking from the pack to start something new or survivors of terrible events who deserve a new shot at life.

I often feel this way, even though I left a stable career after 20-years and jumped into the unknown. I feel like I’m undeserving of this new lease on life because I’m a simple person who’s lived a simple life. Yet, my journey tells me otherwise.

I struggled in unexpected ways for the first two years after leaving my job. I discovered old wounds I’d been holding onto and unhelpful stories I’d been defining myself by. Reckoning with these things was heart-breaking and terrifying at times. The scars still appear on occasion, taking me by surprise and reminding me that I still have healing to do.

More importantly, though, is the aliveness and contentment I feel in my soul after I work my way through that discomfort. I’m finding my way back to my true nature and the experience has opened me up to a new and energizing way of living life. What good does it do me to question whether or not I deserve this?

I notice that people are curious to hear about my story. Why did you leave your career? Were you unhappy? Sick? Burned out? What are you doing now? How’s it going? Are you happy?

I love their curiosity. It tells me that there’s an itch in their soul begging to be scratched. It says that somewhere, consciously or subconsciously, they wonder if they could live their lives differently. It reminds me that we need more stories about the ordinary person breaking free from the ordinary way of living life. And it gives me hope that there are enough people going through their own transformations, so that together we’ll redefine ordinary. We’ll normalize living a life that allows each person to follow their heart and shift as they grow. We’ll create a world that’s less rigid and constricting, and more open, accepting, and loving.

I’ll keep reading the stories about transformations after near-death experiences – they're fascinating and inspiring reads!

AND, I’m learning to embrace my own story with its anthill-sized challenges and inchworm-like transformations. I'm sharing the kind of stories I’ve needed to hear and letting go of that judgmental voice that says I’m too small, too insignificant, too undeserving. I get to choose who I am in this life and I’m not waiting for a tragedy to give me that permission.

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I was recently reminded that this drive can get the best of me when I saw a set of stairs. It was one of those open staircases, with solid wood steps held together by an iron frame where you could see through to the other side of the room. As much as I love uncommon architectural features, open staircases give me a little anxiety.

When I was around 6 years old, my family drove to Virginia Beach to visit another family we had known while my dad was stationed in Hawaii. The couple had been good friends with my parents and they had two sons, one my age and one my brother’s age. Their house had one of those beautiful staircases and the boys had claimed the spot tucked beneath it as their fort. We played down there for a while, letting our childlike imaginations take us wherever we wanted to go.

Eventually, we got tired of playing in that cramped spot and decided on a game of hide-and-seek. There were plenty of places to hide in their large home and room enough for us to run from whoever had been designated as “It.” I’m not sure what I loved more as a kid – hiding or being It. I was nimble enough to tuck myself away in almost any room and fast enough to catch just about anyone.

After a few rounds, we finally got to the point where Colin, the boy my age, was It. I hid behind a door, sucking in my belly and holding the doorknob as close to the wall as possible. Colin eventually came into the room and my heart started to race. He walked to the far end of the room, ducking low to see if I was hidden underneath a piece of furniture. I knew this was my last chance to escape! Quickly, I made my way from behind the door and made a mad dash for home base.

Of course, Colin heard my frantic exit and came after me. I could feel him on my heels as home base came into sight. There was no way I was getting away from him, unless...I took a short cut to their fort, our designated home base. I could dive between the steps!

You can probably guess that this round did not end well for me; that my stroke of genius was actually a really poor decision. Maybe you can imagine the slow-motion replay - arms pumping as I ran…the giant smile as I my epiphany struck…the glorious dive…then the abrupt stop as I became wedged between two steps.

You’d think it was my big head that got stuck, I was so certain I’d come out victorious. Instead, the stairs grabbed hold of my torso. When I realized I was stuck, I started balling and flapping around like a fish caught in a fisherman’s grasp.

Colin made his way in front of me, wide-eyed and terrified. I’ll get our parents, he stammered. No! I cried. I was going to be in so much trouble! But after a few more failed attempts at wiggling free, I begged him to get my parents between giant sobs that seemed to wedge me in more.

I’d love to say I learned a valuable lesson that day.

• We can find ourselves stuck in life when we’re hyper-focused on achieving.

• Keep a cool head and don’t let excitement get the best of you.

• It’s dangerous trying to fit in...literally.

But, I’m pretty sure we went back to our game within ten minutes of my liberation.

If there’s anything to learn from this story, maybe it’s in the looking back. Looking back at who I was as a child – the joyful moments, the terrifying moments, and everything in between. It’s like getting reacquainted with who I was before the world’s expectations dug their claws in me.

There’s something comforting in rediscovering my true nature through my innocent childhood imagination. There’s something freeing in lovingly laughing at my follies. There’s something empowering about embracing my embarrassing moments as part of my journey.

But I’m still never living in a house with an open staircase. 😆

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