What if right here is enough?

This season, I choose stillness

I’ve been away for a couple of weeks, sorting out my physical life and dreaming about what’s next. A deep dive into how I want to live, what I want to bring with me into next year, and what I want to leave behind. Maybe you’ve been feeling this way too, looking for a way to make life a little simpler.

Those who know me well know that spirituality has been a big part of my life for the past decade. It’s slowly become part of everything I do: how I work, how I make decisions, how I rest. Minimalism. Unassuming beauty. Simplicity and authenticity at the core.

I’ve learned the power of intention, the magic of choosing a word for the year, and the importance of protecting my rituals: meditation, movement, sleep, good food. I just wish it hadn’t taken a serious burnout around this time last year for me to finally understand that boundaries are not optional.

I’m so committed to my clients, to my work, to my creativity. I’m sure you are too. But if we don’t take care of ourselves first, we can’t deliver our best. We can’t pour from an empty cup. I’m not all there yet, but I’m seeing the benefits of trying.

This Saturday, my husband and I complete ten years in Miami, after moving from New York City. New York was perfect for that season of my life. I learned so much: how to get things done, how to run a business, and sometimes how not to. It matched the fire in me back then, the overachiever who wanted to do it all.

Mid-forties now, in a slower city (yes, Miami can be slow if you know where to look), I’ve decided I no longer want to overachieve. I still want to achieve: client success, prosperity, peace of mind, joy, contentment. But I choose me first.

That might sound counterintuitive, especially in a world where everyone seems to be chasing something better. But what if right here is exactly where you need to be right now? I’m making peace with that thought and grateful it finally came here to stay.

This season isn’t about building higher or running faster. Maybe it’s about learning to stand still long enough to feel at home in your own life. That’s where I am, and it feels like a good place to begin again.