Ever have one of those days where a Honda commercial about dreams makes you cry?
And not the polite, single-tear-down-the-cheek cry.
I’m talking big-ass tears. The kind where you suck in air just so you can cry harder.
Oscar-worthy. No shame.
Today’s that day for me.
Emotions running high. Full-blown pity party. Tissues handed out like party favors.
Nothing happened, exactly. No big trigger. No catastrophe. Just a brain full of rain clouds that decided to move in without notice.
So instead of fighting it, I paused.
What am I supposed to hear right now?
What actually needs my attention?
What direction wants to shift… or stay exactly as it is?
I’m listening—because I’ve learned that if I don’t, life has a way of shoving the lesson in louder later. I’d prefer the agile-cat-landing-on-her-feet version, thanks.
If I’m being honest, the elephant in the room is probably fear.
Fear has been my long-term roommate. It’s the dragon that gets absolutely ginormous when I add water. Always lurking. Always ready to jump out and scare the shit out of me.
Not cool, Puff. Not cool.
One of my non-negotiables when the clouds roll in is acupuncture. And thank you, Universe, for lining up my appointment on the exact day I was melting. Needles in, shoulders down, nervous system exhale.
Clouds parting.
Rainbow forming.
Another unexpected win showed up too.
I had asked a question earlier about bringing more warm eyes into my business—more connection, more humanity. The response came back packed with jargon… and it didn’t land at all.
And that was the answer.
Because words matter. Tone matters. Timing matters.
What matters most is the intention of the listener.
Am I going to feel held by jargon when what I really need is someone to hug me with their words?
Probably not.
Think about it.
Those moments sitting with your favorite person, coffee or drink in hand, where the conversation flows in real time—and you walk away lighter.
The sun finally breaking through after a week of gross weather.
That first breath of mountain air after being stuck in town.
The crash of waves when your toes hit the sand.
That’s the kind of support that changes things.
So I’m putting the tissues away and pulling out the martini glasses.
Not because everything’s perfect—but because I paused, explored, found the a-ha, and stood back up.
And if you need permission to feel the feels so you can reach your own a-ha moment—here it is.
What you’re feeling is absolutely perfect.
Feel it.
Sit with it.
Laugh in the dark if you need to.
Then get up, dust yourself off, and keep going.
And when you’re ready?
I’ll be here—cheers in hand. 🍸