Happy Sacred Sunday!
It’s the last Sunday of the month, and I’m sitting here, journal in hand, noticing what this April meant for me. What worked, what didn’t, and what I nurtured.
I also just received a brand new journal called The Five Year Journal, which invites you to write one line a day, every day of the year, for five years. This was a Ryan Holiday recommendation, and what got me was the thought that in five years, I’ll be in a completely different season of life than I am right now.
Currently I have three teenage boys at home. In five years, I will have an adult son, one in college, and a senior in high school. I’m curious who that version of me will be then.
Which is exactly the kind of question that’s been following me around all month.
Because I know that the season I’m in now is preparing me for the season that’s coming. And the seasons behind me prepared me for the one I’m in.
On that note, I hopped on a plane for a few quick trips this month. One to Austin to surprise my middle son, and the other to New York with Orly for a photo shoot.
Both trips stirred up something profound in me.
Let me explain.
I always felt my father was my soulmate. Whenever I had the chance to live in his world, those were some of my happiest moments. I loved how he was unconventional. Spontaneous. Whirlwind. Present. He came and went like the wind. Always bringing a smile on his face, big energy, and a fun story.
I felt the most me when I was with him.
And yet, I wanted a different life than my dad’s. I wanted a traditional family. A stable marriage. Kids I got to see every day. I wanted a life I believed his lifestyle could not support.
So I paved a different path.
But every once in a while, that part of my identity has surfaced… like the trips to Austin and New York.
This week, as I walked through the airport with Orly, a thought struck me:
They say life is not a dress rehearsal. You get one shot at this life, right?
But what if life is also a series of practice runs for a future version of us?
My son is preparing to be an actor one day. This trip was a practice run for his future life.
That’s when I had the moment of clarity.
Traveling with my dad when I was a little girl was a practice run for the mom who’d be traveling with her son one day.
I couldn’t have known it at the time, but I was in training for something bigger.
And the joy I felt was my soul’s knowing that this was part of my destiny.
Both trips created sparks of bliss.
On our return, we caught an earlier flight, and I realized I could make it to my cousin’s house for my nephew’s birthday party. I arrived just as they finished singing happy birthday and surprised everyone. My cousin looked at me and said, “You just pulled a Joachim de Posada.”
My heart fluttered.
Unconventional. Spontaneous. Whirlwind. Present.
This was a glimpse of my soul’s truest path.
I felt a spark of bliss.
It also reminded me that every season in life has its place and its purpose, when you live in alignment.
Each season in my life has trained me for the version of me I’m becoming. Even the saddest, most difficult ones. Even the ones that felt unclear.
And that’s one of the reasons I’ve begun naming my seasons. Because part of the magic of naming a season is understanding that you are both the author of your story and the protagonist finding her hero’s journey at the same time.
This week, I’m hosting a free workshop called Name the Season to help you do exactly that. We’ll sit together and name the season you’re in right now, so you stop drifting through it and start moving through it with intention.
If you’ve been feeling the pull of becoming, but you can’t quite name what you’re becoming into, this is for you. There are three dates and times on Zoom for you to attend at your convenience.
[Save your spot here]
Your soul already knows what your sparks of bliss are. This is your invitation to pay attention.
I’ll see you there.
With love,
