For years, I mistook the frantic pace of corrugated box sales for real progress, running on the empty fuel of constant urgency. But when I lost the love of my life, my husband Billy, last year, the world stopped and so did I. Retreating to the quiet rhythm of our farm, I finally found the space to breathe and heal. Slowing down taught me that survival mode isn't living. Today, I still take care of my clients, but I do it with a deeply shifted heart; I've traded the endless hustle for the peace Billy always wished for me, discovering that the truest progress is simply being fully present for the life we have left to live.

I used to think progress meant moving faster, carrying more, and proving I could survive anything. Slowing down taught me that real influence comes from being present enough to lead with purpose, protect my peace, and give my family, my students, and myself the version of me that is whole, not just productive.

I didn't choose to slow down, life happened. But it turned into a blessing, as I've had time to prioritize, write, and set a new course!

When I slowed down and stopped chasing perfection, I found peace. And in that peace I finally began to grow.

The biggest lesson I've learned is simple: urgency is not the same as importance. Some of the most valuable work happens when we pause long enough to think, reflect, and choose our next step intentionally. I used to think slowing down meant falling behind. Now I know it was the only way I could finally move forward. The most important promotion I ever received wasn't at work; it was being promoted from surviving life to actually living life.

I'm a classic Type A personality, and I love improving things. I'll come across an idea or project that would genuinely help my business, and my instinct is, "Great. I need to do that now." The light bulb moment was realizing that just because something is a good idea doesn't mean it's the right priority today. I was creating my own sense of urgency and getting the dopamine hit from tackling the next project, without stopping to ask whether it was actually moving me closer to my biggest goals. Now I'm trying to ask a different question: not "Is this worth doing?" but "Is this worth doing right now?" That simple shift has made me feel more focused—and a lot less overwhelmed.

I learned that success isn't something you achieve by staying busy every minute of the day. When I stopped treating rest as a reward and started treating it as a business strategy, I became more thoughtful in my approach, made better decisions, and focused my energy where it created the greatest impact.

I paused my academic career in 2020. I was tired of competition, lack of solidarity and reciprocity or no long term relationships.

Taking care of yourself is not selfish, it's self-care. It's showing up for you, BEFORE you show up for the world!

Sometimes life forces us into situations that we are not prepared for or make us feel "stuck in the muck" as I call it. This shifts us into survival mode, which feels heavy and uncomfortable. Taking some time to pause, allows yourself to reflect on what is not working and this helps to shift gears in new directions. I like to challenge myself with new things that may be outside of my comfort zone. By doing this it changes your mindset, allowing new experiences to come forward. During this time, you must Live in The Moment and Embrace the Journey!

I learned that living in survival mode can make you feel productive while disconnecting you from what truly matters. Slowing down gave me the perspective to focus on my wellbeing, relationships, and the work that creates lasting value.

Urgency made everything feel important, which meant nothing actually was. The moment I paused, my real priorities sorted themselves out, and the work got better because I stopped confusing motion with progress.

Upon retirement, I eagerly jettisoned the non-stop stream of required performances and donor events on nights and weekends. I began to write my first book and realized I needed three unscheduled days per week devoted to writing so Monday was quickly added to the weekend mix. The Mentor's Gift hit bookshelves in September, and my three-day unscheduled pattern is now permanent!