ebbing and flowing

The other day I was scrolling (as I do), and I came across this video of a little girl who was bereft by the fact that leaves would soon be falling from the trees, and she wouldn’t be able to “meet them.” “It’s all my fault, Daddy,” she says between tears to her father, who is off camera. “It’s all my fault.” Her father, trying to comfort her, says, “It’s not your fault, it’s called nature.” The video clip cuts off after this, and I couldn’t help but wonder what happened next: was her dad able to explain nature to her? Did she stop crying? I thought about how I would’ve explained the season to her: that the leaves, to make room for new birth, would say goodbye to her in an explosion of beautiful colour, so that new, baby leaves would emerge in the spring.

I suppose it’s weird that I spent so much time thinking about this, but as we approach the end of the year, I can’t help but note that things in my own life have shifted in a blaze of colour: Alex graduated from high school, beginning her first year at university almost a thousand miles away from home, Marcus and I celebrating our twentieth anniversary. And of course, submitting my manuscript for Radiant Rebellion.

It's been a pretty exciting year!

And now, as the year begins to close, I can’t help but think that all this excitement is making room for the newness of next year: a year where I can emerge from being cloistered writing my book and reconnect with the Chookooloonks community – through more coaching, and speaking, and even writing.

To that end, for the first time in two years, I'll have a few openings for leadership coaching in 2023! If you're looking for a way to infuse your work with meaning and purpose, I'd love to help. You can read more about my coaching practice here, and if you're interested in a complimentary introductory session, fill out the form at the bottom of this page to connect.

Ebb and flow. I’m so looking forward to what’s to come.