My Next 40 Years

The last time I wrote, I was standing in the mist at Niagara Falls in August — reflective, grateful, and thinking about what the next 40 years might hold.

Since then? Life has been full in the very best way.

🌵 Arizona in October

October took me west for a family reunion in Arizona — the kind of trip that fills your camera roll and your heart at the same time. Desert sunsets, palm trees swaying, long dinners, loud laughter, and the kind of hugs that remind you where you come from.

I also celebrated another trip around the sun while I was there. Birthdays feel different now — less about candles and more about clarity. I don’t need everything figured out. I just want to keep saying yes to growth, connection, and experiences that stretch me.

Arizona delivered on all of it.

🧵 Learning to Sew (and Heal)

Back home, I did something that felt both small and deeply meaningful — I learned how to sew quilts out of Heather’s scarves.

There’s something sacred about turning fabric into something that holds warmth. Piece by piece, stitch by stitch, grief becomes tangible. Creative. Even beautiful.

It reminded me that healing isn’t linear. Sometimes it looks like therapy. Sometimes it looks like travel. And sometimes it looks like sitting at a table with a sewing machine, honoring memory through your hands.

🦷 A Sweet Season at Annandale Smiles

For a season, I worked part-time at Annandale Smiles — and what a gift that was.

The team? Incredible.
The patients? The best kind of community.
The energy? Warm, supportive, and genuinely joyful.

It reminded me how much I love people-facing work. The small conversations. The nervous laughs before procedures. The way kindness can change someone’s whole day.

Not every role has to be forever to be meaningful.

💼 A New Chapter at Eagle Hill

And then — plot twist in the best way — I started a new role at Eagle Hill Consulting.

It still feels a little surreal to say that out loud.

New team. New challenges. New opportunities to lean into change management and learning — the spaces where I feel most alive professionally. I’m stretching. I’m learning. I’m building new muscles.

Starting something new in your 40s is both humbling and empowering. You know who you are — but you’re still willing to evolve.

That feels like the sweet spot.

🌊 Sanibel & the Peace I Didn’t Know I Needed

I’ve been on Sanibel Island since Thursday, and tonight I head back to a snowy D.C.

This trip wasn’t about sightseeing or checking boxes. It was about something quieter.

Early morning walks before the world woke up.
Sunrises stretching soft pink across the Gulf.
Bare feet in the sand at sunset.
Unhurried time with family.

Sanibel gave me a kind of peace I didn’t even realize I’d been missing.

There’s something about watching both the sun rise and set over water that recalibrates you. It slows your breathing. It softens the noise in your head. It reminds you what actually matters.

The older I get, the more I understand that moments like this aren’t indulgent — they’re essential. Space to think. Space to feel. Space to just be.

Heading back to the cold tonight feels a little jarring, but I’m carrying something warmer with me.

Gratitude. Clarity. A steadier heart.

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If Niagara Falls was reflection, Arizona was connection, and this season of new work is momentum — Sanibel was peace.

And maybe that’s the real lesson lately.

The next 40 years aren’t about constant motion.
They’re about knowing when to move — and when to stand still long enough to watch the tide roll in.

💛