Tag: transitions

Sunshine

Hi! Again. After a longer break than I intended.

I have been riding some powerful waves over the last few months, and it has made it hard for me to know what I want to say.

Someday I will write more transparently, but that day is not today.

Instead, today I’m embracing gratitude. For clarity. For optimism. For sunshine.

Perhaps you’ve been there before. Working your way through unexpected grief and change. Trying to productively move past feelings of betrayal and anger. Missing lost friendships. It literally feels like swimming through mud or running through a hurricane. You know you are struggling when forward motion must be super intentional.

And then.

You realize better days certainly are ahead. That amidst the hard, you’ve learned some really important lessons you’ll never need to be taught again. You have seen who stands with you, circles you, and props you up on your hardest days. You know who you can count on – and of course, who you can’t. You are reminded that you are strong. Smart. Resilient. And a fighter.

Maybe not completely fearless. But a fighter nonetheless.

The clouds are lifting for me. I’m feeling more like myself. It’s been hard work to find me again. But here I am.

It’s July 12th. The sun is shining. And I am enjoying a happy day. Grateful. Optimistic. And very clear on how to tackle the important weeks and months ahead.

As I was writing this blog in my head while driving our golf cart around our neighborhood with my youngest daughter, a favorite song came on Spotify. “Here Comes the Sun” by the Beatles (written by George Harrison). It spoke to me so deeply today.

“Here comes the sun, doo-doo-doo-doo
Here comes the sun, and I say
It’s alright

Little darlin’, it’s been a long, cold, lonely winter
Little darlin’, it feels like years since it’s been here

Here comes the sun, doo-doo-doo-doo
Here comes the sun, and I say
It’s alright

Little darlin’, the smile’s returning to their faces
Little darlin’, it seems like years since it’s been here

Here comes the sun
Here comes the sun, and I say
It’s alright

Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes

Little darlin’, I feel that ice is slowly melting
Little darlin’, it seems like years since it’s been clear

Here comes the sun, doo-doo-doo-doo
Here comes the sun, and I say
It’s alright

Here comes the sun, doo-doo-doo-doo
Here comes the sun
It’s alright

So here’s to sunshine. Melting ice and clearing skies. The smile is returning to my face. It’s alright. It’s alright.

Embracing space

Happy Sunday morning. I’m taking a moment to pause this morning and write. This picture was from several weeks ago in Santa Barbara (my view from Seattle this morning is decidedly more gray).

It should bring me joy – writing, oh how I have missed you.

But, like many things lately, it brings me anxiety. What to say?

It will help to rip the band-aid off and address, why now? Why the space to write?

The answer is simple and complicated and a lot heartbreaking, but I’ll start with simple….I’m taking an unexpected sabbatical from the job I loved for the summer.

This is a first for me. As a dedicated athlete through college, I have been an achievement-oriented, hard working, type A perfectionist for as long as I can remember. Give me a goal and this girl will die trying to achieve it. This worked for me for a long time in running, until it didn’t (when my bones decided all of that over-training would lead to 13 stress fractures and early retirement).

And now, after a successful 23 year career at Microsoft and a 5 year run as a co-founder of a unicorn start-up, I learn the same lessons again. Life isn’t fair. Hard work doesn’t necessarily equal success. And people you trust can disappoint you.

So here we are. Importantly, the most important things are strong. My family. My true friends. My understanding of who I am. And the lesson my dad taught me years ago – what I do is not who I am. That one has really stood the test of time.

Because I still feel young, have tons of energy, and a very active brain, I will have a next chapter. I’m working toward enthusiasm to consider options. But at the same time, I’m grieving. An unexpected and undesired outcome.

While I process, as a lifelong learner, I dive into introspection and learning. A dear friend recommended a book recently that I loved “The Next Day: Transitions, Change, and Moving Forward by Melinda French Gates.” Pretty perfect timing, Ms. Gates – thank you!

So much in this book spoke to me, but this paragraph in particular:

“In moments of transition, we step into a clearing in our lives. The familiar surroundings disappear. In these big wide-open spaces, there’s a lot of uncertainty – but also a lot of possibility. I’ve learned there are two ways to encounter these spaces. You can keep your head down and focus on finding the shortest possible distance to the next familiar thing, racing past the unknown without a second glance. Or you can find the courage to pause in that in-between space and see what it has to tell you – and then let what you learn there help you decide where to go next.”

Right now, I’m allowing the unexpected to seize control of my path, commit to serendipity, and have the courage to embrace the pause. It really does take courage (and privilege, to have the opportunity to truly pause). And as a lifelong racer, it’s very hard for me to not….race forward.

I was fortunate to find a quick path to Microsoft right out of grad school and then was heavily recruited to my start-up – I truly haven’t ever started an intentional job search. Certainly not with nearly 30 years of expertise, experience, and passion for leading teams. I also have fewer personal demands – two of my three kids are in college now, I have a dedicated nanny for my third, and a supportive husband.

So what’s next?? I don’t know! And I’m trying to not only not panic with this realization, but embrace it.

I want to have the courage to truly embrace the pause.

I do believe there is magic to be found there. So I’m pausing. Filling my bucket with what brings me joy. Right now this looks like family time, long lunches and walks with beloved friends, lots of reading with my trusty highlighter, embracing work-outs and fresh air, and experimenting with new forms of self-care that I have never made time for (hello mediation! what’s up therapy!).

We’ll see how the next chapter emerges. I really want this moment of space in my life to uncover something magical. I believe that it will.

As Ms. Gates says….

“It’s worth leaving some space between the lines of our to-do lists. Space for spontaneity and fun and joy. Space for new ideas and new people. And, most of all, space for its own sake, because when transitions come – and they will come – we need to be ready to spend a bit of time in the clearings in our lives they create.”