Happy Sunday, friend.

I'm back from a few days in the mountains of Utah at my friend D'Arcy's cabin, and honestly...I'm still processing all of it. So bear with me while I meander through the lessons here.

So, this whole idea came from a conversation she and I had a few months ago. We are both at a crossroads in life and our careers, trying to figure out the next chapter. Being known for one thing and exploring what’s next. She’s been helping other women through this exact phase with her retreats and recommended that I come to her cabin for a few days to figure it out. I happily agreed to go.

Side note: I realize this is a total luxury, but if you've never taken a few days away just to work on yourself, I can't recommend it enough. I already feel like this could be a new yearly ritual for me.

The obvious question before the trip seemed like “what’s next?” But I don’t think it was the right one.

D'Arcy curated an experience for me that was so much deeper than I could've imagined. We spent two days doing really deep work, taking walks, laughing, crying, singing, sitting on the porch, and asking questions.

Not just business questions but the kind that make you stare out the window for a minute before you answer. Some answers came easily, others didn't. Throughout the process, especially when I got stuck, she asked me to close my eyes and feel because somehow your body just knows.

Have you ever had that happen?

Someone asks you something and before you've even found the words, your body has already answered it. Maybe your chest gets tight or your stomach drops, maybe you get a little teary-eyed. And you're sitting there thinking...

"Well...I guess that's something we should pay attention to." 😁

One of the biggest lessons of the past few years is just that, learning to tune in to my body, my heart, my gut. My mind is always loud but my body? It just knows what it knows.

But one of the biggest gifts I got wasn't some big breakthrough. It was validation.

Validation that I wasn't making things bigger than they were. The grief I've felt over the past few years from my identity shifts, from empty nesting, menopause, and a business that no longer asks the same things of me. That little pull toward something different.

The feeling that life has been gently (and sometimes not so gently!) nudging me into a new season. It wasn't all in my head.

Sometimes the greatest gift isn't getting new answers. It's finally trusting the ones you've known deep down all along.

One of the exercises we did centered around identifying my values and I thought I knew them. But as we peeled back the layers, I realized something I wasn't expecting.

So many of my decisions over the years had been driven by responsibility.

Not because responsibility is bad, it's helped me build a beautiful life. But responsibility and values aren't always the same thing.

That realization has stayed with me.

Somewhere in the middle of all of those conversations, we explored this question that I’ve been asking a lot lately.

Who am I when no one needs me to be anything?

For most of my adult life, I don't think I ever had to answer that question because, well, life answered it for me. I’m a mom, wife, business owner, leader, problem solver, caretaker…

And oh, how I’ve loved those roles! Still do.

But they're not the whole story and some of them have shifted. I don’t fully have it figured out yet but I feel like everything I’m doing right now – from writing here to having new experiences to getting back in touch with my inner child and teen – are all part of the process.  

There was one sentence that kept coming back to me throughout the trip.

I'm not abandoning myself anymore.

When I first wrote it in my journal, I actually stopped and stared at it for a minute. It wasn't some dramatic realization, more like all the little ways I've left myself behind over the years. Maybe some of these sound familiar…

Over explaining because I wanted so badly to be understood.

Carrying things that were never really mine to carry simply because I loved the people involved.

Believing someone else's discomfort automatically meant I'd done something wrong.

Trying to manage outcomes I never actually controlled.

Stopping doing these things is something I’m still practicing and even though it’s hard, it actually feels like the healthiest version of love I've ever practiced.

I can tell the truth without needing everyone to agree with me.

I can express what I need without apologizing for having needs.

I can love people deeply without carrying their journey for them.

The emotional work we did was deep but it was balanced with something equally powerful.

Care.

When the conversations were over, D’Arcy would send me out to the porch. There were the most beautiful wind chimes with a unique melodic tone that never seemed to stop because there was always a light breeze. And the hummingbirds! They were everywhere, dozens of them. Loudly chirping and darting to and fro at the feeders. Honestly, the whole experience felt a little magical.

Inside, I'd hear dishes clinking and smell soup simmering on the stove while D'Arcy sang to herself and cooked for us.

I had to fight every instinct in me that wanted to rush in and help.

"What can I do?"

Every single time she'd smile and say,

"Nothing. Go sit on the porch."

As I shared in last week’s newsletter, receiving care doesn't come nearly as naturally to me as giving it.

But I allowed it and I’m proud of myself for that. I felt nurtured and deeply cared for, something my inner child desperately needed.

Lastly, I came home with these two words written on a sticky note.

Unhurried.

Unbothered.

Not because everything suddenly got figured out or life got easier. But because I finally understood that I don't have to carry things that were never mine to carry in the first place. D’Arcy is the personification of both of these words and I’m grateful for her example.

I don't have to rush this season.

I don't have to have the next ten years mapped out.

I don't have to become someone new.

I’m going to take my time finally getting to know the woman who's been there all along.

And honestly...I'm really looking forward to spending more time with her and sharing that journey here, with you.

xo,
Alison