It’s a new year, and like clockwork, the world wants us to hit the ground running.

“Not I,” said the cat.

The flowers don’t start blooming until around March (in Maryland). I’ll take my cues from Mother Nature, not man.

This year, I plan to do more of that—leaning into nature’s rhythm and practicing stillness.

My reflection process looks a little different. At the top of the year, I decided to organize the photos on my phone. The intention was simple: clear out and organize over 14,000 images and videos (I know—ridiculous… but necessary 🤷🏾♀️).

What I didn’t expect was to become completely immersed in the archives of my life.

And then it hit me.

I need to dig deeper to remember and reflect—for real.

I watched videos I forgot existed. I remembered moments I almost lost. I laughed at the commentary I was making while I was living the experience. Humor and nostalgia, all in one place.

I found myself tearing up, staring at the screen, overwhelmed with gratitude for my life.
#ThankYouGodMorePlease

This is why reflection is necessary. It’s so easy to trudge through life—just doing—without remembering the path that led us to where we are now.

I’m still organizing my phone, but here are a few downloads I wanted to share from this season of reflection:

Strategy Over Emotion

As a feeler by nature, this one is still a work in progress—so I’ll keep you posted if there are amendments 🤣.

Last year showed me what happens when you sit still (and too long) in your feelings. Time passes. Narratives build. Trust wanes. Feelings get bigger. Everything starts to feel cyclical—until the flow is interrupted by strategic thought.

This doesn’t mean rushing through emotions. It simply acknowledges that there is always a bigger picture.
The show will always go on.

Creative Wellness Is Healing

The feelings are going to happen—I accept that. But how I move through them has shifted (living outside the box, as usual).

I realized there are no limits to how I can release what’s inside. Beading has become a form of meditation—but so has dancing, painting, and taking a long drive on a winding road surrounded by greenery, with a fire playlist playing loud.

Healing doesn’t have one shape.

Clarity Is Kindness

I don’t trust what I can’t understand. Confusion feels chaotic and unsettling.

This year, I’m choosing clarity—in myself and in the world around me. Clarity is non-negotiable for me as a leader. How can you guide others if you’re lost or scattered?

Less Visibility (Online). More Living (IRL).

I wouldn’t call my relationship with social media unhealthy—it fits the times. Walking into rooms full of people glued to their devices is the norm now. Still, it’s wild to me as a kid who grew up in the ’80s.

Playing outside and face-to-face engagement feel like a dying art form—and I’m actively working to revive it.

Most of us are normalizing self-neglect by zoning out on these machines.
There. I said it. 🤷🏾♀️

I never understood kids who watched other kids play with toys on YouTube. My first thought was, Kid, go play with your own toy!
(As I side-eye the slime my kid left embedded in the carpet from doing exactly that.)

But back to the point.

We consume other people’s joy, pain, and fear through screens—yet won’t say hello to someone standing right next to us.

It amazes me how many people know the stats of their favorite football player or the tiniest detail about a celebrity, yet struggle to understand their own emotions or bodies.

I’m not only logging off more—I’m encouraging my daughter to do the same.

Pace Yourself Amidst Enthusiasm

I naturally elevate the vibe wherever I go with optimism and enthusiasm. For that, I’m grateful.

Joy is my jam. Seeing the glass as half full is a gift—one that sustains me through life and adulting.

The other anchor has been faith—an unwavering overflow planted in me by my Bum Bum’s praying hands.

But excitement without discernment and pace? That’ll really mess things up—I learned that the hard way.

Like my mom always says:
“Everything that glitters isn’t gold.”