Well, this morning, I broke one of my own rules—and it did not go well. 

As I sat down to drink my cacao and meditate, my phone screen flashed. A Facebook message. “Don’t check your phone,” I heard clearly in my head. But Facebook messages are usually light and breezy, so what was the harm? 

The message was from the wife of one of my husband's employees. As I skimmed through her three-screen-long message, the best way I can describe her tone and attitude is low vibration. And that’s me being very kind. 

Always one to seek confirmation of who I am, I remember taking a quiz in Glamour Magazine in the late ‘80s or early ‘90s titled “How Resilient Are You?”

At the time, I had gone through a rough breakup, my parents’ messy divorce, and yet, I felt like I had come out of it all pretty well. The quiz results confirmed it—I scored high on resilience. Back then, I took comfort in sayings like “God never gives you more than you can handle” and “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” I had a pretty healthy outlook on life—or so I thought.

Most of The Time
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been hyper-aware of people’s emotions—picking up on their moods, anticipating reactions, and adjusting myself accordingly. It started young.

The Early Signs
When I was 14, I fell in love with Mike before he even asked me out. He was my first love, a hockey goalie who lived around the corner, and I thought my life was made when we became official. If you asked my mother, she’d say we fought all the time. Looking back, I can see how I constantly checked in with his moods, trying to keep everything ‘good and right.’

About six months ago, my husband started walking our Treeing Walker Coonhound when he got home from work. Traditionally, I was the one who walked the dogs in the morning, but after our dog Rugs developed vertigo last August, his mornings became groggy, and he preferred to stay in bed. 

Glenn’s new routine of evening walks was good for the dogs and good for him—until he developed plantar fasciitis. As anyone who’s had it knows, it shows up out of nowhere and, just as mysteriously, disappears one day like magic. 

The inspiration for my bi-weekly blog posts comes from my life, the events around me, or an idea that strikes me and simply needs to be written about. These posts can be deeply personal and vulnerable or more practical and factual. This week’s post is personal, current, and, hopefully, practical. It might resonate as something you’ve experienced in your daily life, or maybe it’s something you’ve never had an issue with—in which case, lucky you! 

Last week, my husband, a few friends from Toastmasters, and I attended a service at the Mennonite church in London, Ohio. After the service, we found ourselves chatting in the hallway, and, as conversations often do, the topic of our Buy Here Pay Here car business came up. Pastor Preston, with genuine curiosity, asked me a simple but surprisingly loaded question: “Do you miss it?”

In hindsight, I wish I had paused to think before answering. Instead, my response felt rushed and, frankly, not my best. I mentioned a photo I had recently posted on Facebook—a celebratory picture with a young woman who had just paid off her car. She’s part of a family with a long history with our business, and I joked that she’s “crazy” (something I’ve said to her face before) and noted that she’s the only one in her family to ever go full term and pay off their vehicle.

As I am starting to write this post, it is 5 a.m. on 12/25/2024. Typically, the idea for a blog sort of flows out of me. Today, it is unclear, and I seem to have multiple ideas wanting to be expressed—to write about the current situation with my mother and me, my goals for 2025, and who I want to become. And then there is my current and ongoing obsession with always wanting things to be better. Perhaps this is a year-end reflection and a nod forward to 2025. All I am seeing in my inbox, on my podcast feed, and on YouTube are “top 5 things I learned in 2024,” “how to improve your life in 2025,” etc. The end of the year is a good time for reflection, and for the last six weeks, I have found myself in the space of reviewing 2024 and planning for 2025.

My senior year in high school, I took an elbow to my lip from a girl named Liz Lawlor. Why do I remember her name 37 years later? Memory is funny that way. The fact that this memory is wrapped up in the emotions of anger and the pain of splitting my lip is why it’s still vivid to me. It was a heated game with plenty of pushing, shoving, and fouls. After being elbowed in the lip and knocked to the floor, I found myself sitting on the hardwood, my vision narrowing—perhaps the blow had stunned me. I slammed my fists down on the court.

When I put my hands out in front of me, all I could see was bright red blood.

Little did I know that when I wrote my blog post about integrating "vacation me" and "everyday me", a few months later, I would write another post about my vacation purchase—or lack of purchase—experiences. This most recent experience involved buying a whole new bohemian-style wardrobe (second-hand on eBay) and actively addressing my bad habit of self-abandonment.

Since 2016, I've been consistently journaling. I’m not one to fill pages about my feelings or recount what happened yesterday. Instead, my journals are mostly filled with notes on the books I've read, the people I’ve interacted with, and plenty of self-criticism on how I could be better.

Looking back through these pages, I realized how one simple but profound habit transformed me from the inside out. This tool not only changed who I was as a person but also impacted my physical and mental health. I learned how to take a breath, check in with my emotions, and become less reactive—turning what could have ruined me into opportunities for growth.

Last week was full of interesting, deep, and soulful conversations—many of them unexpected, vulnerable, and civil. I was surprised by how thoughtful and respectful people were, even as we discussed difficult topics like the election and the state of the country.

I went to bed early on election night, not knowing the outcome. Wednesday morning, I followed my usual routine: journaling, meditating, writing. Only after did I check my phone, taking a deep breath before Googling, “Who won the election?”

Health tracking devices, such as Oura Rings and Fitbits, can provide valuable insights into sleep, heart rate, and movement. My personal experience with tracking has led to improved habits and a deeper understanding of my body. Despite initial skepticism, I encourage others to try tracking for a week to see if it can help them achieve their health goals.

This afternoon, we’re leaving for vacation. It's been on the calendar for three months, and ever since, I’ve been keeping mental lists of things to do before we go. Some are in the notes app on my phone, others scribbled on paper, but regardless of where they “live,” they’re all on a loop in my mind. This isn’t just about vacation prep, either; there’s always a list of things I want to accomplish—things to do, things to be, things to become—playing on repeat in my head.

You know how we place items at the top or bottom of a staircase, intending to take them on our next trip upstairs or downstairs? A few weeks ago, I did just that with a plastic container—no lid but sturdy enough, waiting at the bottom of the stairs. I hadn’t decided what to do with it yet, so there it sat, waiting for someone to carry it up.

Then one day, while playing with my 2-year-old granddaughter Zoe in the basement, we started heading upstairs. There was the container, still on the bottom step. Without a word, Zoe, unprompted, grabbed the slightly heavy, awkward container and lugged it upstairs. With a huff, she placed it on the top step and marched into the kitchen. I was both impressed and confused. I thanked her, and over the next few days, this moment became a story I shared with friends—and the inspiration for this post.

I’ll ask you: do you consider yourself open-minded? Are you open-minded on some topics or areas of your life, or the world, but not so much in others?

What makes us open or closed-minded? Is it who our friends are, what we read, where we grew up, where we live, the TV shows we watch? And let’s not forget our spouses—they, too, have an influence on what we think. These are all factors that shape us, often without us even realizing it. My belief is that if we want to be open-minded, we have to actively seek out differing opinions and diverse life experiences to help us grow.

Perhaps it’s the recent loss of our little dog or the health challenges we’ve faced with our middle dog that got me thinking about funerals. 

Let me start by saying that this post, like all my writings, is about my personal reflections, experiences, and ponderings. It’s not meant to judge others—just to share what I’ve found inside myself.

The first loss I experienced was my paternal grandfather. When my grandparents visited, they’d bring Dunkin' Donuts, and my grandfather would often fall asleep on the couch.

When I hear the word "austerity," I immediately think of the government tightening its belts or corporations being more frugal with their spending. It may sound harsh or extreme, but as I have discovered, austerity can also be fun and even magical.

Webster’s dictionary defines austerity as “sternness or severity of manner or attitude.”

Do you ever find yourself acting, dressing, or being different depending on who you're with or where you are? I can raise my hand as being that person for most of my life. About 20 years ago, I realized I was doing this in many places, but a striking example was when I was on vacation.

Weeks before a trip, I would start packing all my favorite or best clothes and shoes—possibly items I only wore on special occasions. I wanted to feel and dress like the best version of myself on the trip. Something else I became aware of was the things I would buy while I was on vacation.

In mid-June, a friend/coach of mine mentioned that she was participating in a 20-day cacao experience. It touts, “Could drinking chocolate every day change your life? Join us in this 20-day experience to find out how Ceremonial Cacao and the spirit it carries can open your heart and allow you to have a deeper connection with yourself and your life.” Honestly, I was not looking for a cacao experience, but I was curious. I signed up without hesitation and without doing any research. This is not how I usually make decisions. Typically, I ask myself how I feel about something and go with the response, I feel a “hell yes” or a “hell no.” This time, it was not a yes or a no, I just decided to jump in.

Growing up, I never felt like I fit in anywhere. The people around me knew what they wanted to be when they grew up; they had skills like math or science, things they were good at, music, art, theater. My high school class produced an epic comedian and a Rhodes scholar, for heaven’s sake. When I sat and tried to feel into or imagine what I wanted to do or be, there was nothing. Nothing I was good at, I was a great basketball player, but I was not going to go pro.