As I write this, my children—all four of them—are moving through their first day of school. This morning, my youngest stepped onto the bus a kindergartner and we all held our breath. We're here. It's been a long time coming. It's gone by in a blink. I'm reminded of two moments when I thought deeply about this exact day:

I'm sitting in an adirondack chair in Cape Elizabeth, Maine, reading Present Over Perfect, six months pregnant with my last child, knowing the pace of life we'd been moving at was unsustainable and something had to give. Part lived experience, part jitters of early motherhood long past, I resolved to offer my whole self to my daughter in a way that I didn't or couldn't do for her siblings. I wasn't sure how, but we'd find a way to unravel busy and make slow meaning out of our lives.

I'm standing over a crisp white bed at a hotel in Charlottesville, papers strewn out across the sheets. I'd taken myself on a personal retreat last February to ask what's next? I'd written it all down, 20 years of work and volunteerism—what I'd done, what I loved about what I'd done, what I was good at and what I was ready to let go. I resolved in that moment to create opportunities for myself in the next 18 months so that when Winnie went to kindergarten, I wouldn't have to answer to an employer, wouldn't have to return to an office.

I honor today a dream seed that was planted six years ago, then cultivated and pruned in the last year and a half. I celebrate this moment, and resolve not to forget what it took to get here, the immense gratitude I feel, and the commitment to teach others what I know:

You can unravel busy.

You can make and remake your life.

You can notice and name what you love and move heaven and earth in that direction.

If you'd like to explore your dream seeds in the safety and companionship of a co-listener, let's work together this fall in a coaching capacity. I'd love to ask some of the questions I asked myself at each stage in the process.