One quiet June morning I was riding bikes with my family. I listened to the birds chirping their songs, and enjoyed the warmth of the sun on my arms. As I was coasting downhill, I felt so free - I revelled in the moment enveloped by a full-body grin.  Within seconds, everything changed. While I took a turn, my tires slipped out from under me and the world went sideways. Splat. My right leg and arm collided with the road. I had a heavy feeling in my chest and a buzzing sensati

Not long ago, my daughter recalled a memory so vivid it stopped me in my tracks. She described the colors, the sounds, what I said, and how she felt — all with crystal clarity. “Don’t you remember, Mom?” she asked. I didn’t. To me, it was a passing moment. To her, it was a core memory  — one shaping how she sees herself and how she moves through the world. It’s wild, isn’t it? The same moment can live so differently in each of us. That’s part of the beauty and the complexity

I’ve lived with chronic illnesses my whole life. Even with decades of practice listening to my body, there are still seasons when my energy narrows without my consent. The to-do list multiplies. The world turns up the volume. And the instinct, mine and so many leaders I coach, is to push harder. Optimize. Squeeze more in. Lately, I’m remembering a different move - accept the challenge by embracing reality. Not with resignation, but with clarity. When “do more” is the water we

The other week, my daughter’s keyboard stopped working with her iPad. We did the standard dance - checked the Bluetooth, ensured the battery was charged, nothing worked. Finally we did the simple-but-tedious fix: turned the iPad off and back on. Suddenly, everything connected again. That’s what a reset is. Not fairy dust. Not a calendar trick. It’s action. New Year’s ≠ New You A lot of us look at New Year’s like a natural reset. The calendar changes and we hope our lives do,

Last week, I wasn’t at meetings or crossing off my to-do list. I was in bed - sick, tired, and reminded of a lesson I keep learning, sometimes accepting the challenge means letting go. It can look like saying no. Asking for help. Receiving help. Prioritizing rest and basic needs instead of pushing through to meet everyone else’s. That is not quitting; it’s clarity. It’s kindness. It’s courage. The Question I Ask Every Year In my annual planning workshop, there’s a reflection

Some years start with crisp plans and fresh notebooks…and end with a pile of should’ves. Mine did. In 2017, right after publishing A Misfit Entrepreneur’s Guide to Building a Business Your Way , I mapped bold programs and growth goals. I was energized, clear, and ready. And then I wasn’t. A wave of unprocessed, complex trauma pulled me under. Tasks that used to be simple, sending a newsletter, attending a networking event, pitching a perspective client, felt like climbing a c

The other day, on the walk from my daughter’s school to the car, we overheard a teenager listing her instruments: “I know how to play piano. I know how to play clarinet…” My daughter, who’s been studying piano for 5 years, looked up and asked, “What does it mean  to know how to play the piano?” Such a simple question. Such a revealing one. We say “I know” as if there’s a finish line. But most meaningful skills don’t work that way. Knowledge expands. Context shifts. Our craft

Many of us grew up with a single story about Thanksgiving - a harmonious feast celebrating the harvest between pilgrims and Native Americans filled with shared gratitude. We have traditions, gathering with friends and family to give thanks. That white-centric narrative leaves out another living truth. For Native peoples, Thanksgiving is a Day of Mourning rooted in profound loss, violence, and ongoing harm. If you’ve grown up believing one story of Thanksgiving, holding both o