Author: nathaliedanielle

The innovative management consultant and educator Peter Drucker famously said, “the best way to predict the future is to create it.” Have you ever stopped to consider your power in creating the future results you desire for your life? So many of us unconsciously walk around letting life happen to us, and when we achieve a goal, we neglect to take stock of those results as a direct effect of our intentions, beliefs, and aligned actions. Conversely, when we don’t achieve our goals, the easy default is to blame others or external circumstances. We don’t take responsibility and often play the role of victim, making the perilous assumption that life is happening to us.

Imagine embracing the empowering belief that life happens for you? While real victims do exist in this world, I’d also assert that in the majority of situations, we are our own worst enemies. I certainly know I am guilty. Failure to own our innate power – to dream big and take massive action – is actually a function of fear. In a podcast by human connection specialist Mark Groves, he explains that a commitment to our dreams requires an expansive capacity to receive success and a deep trust in ourselves to endure disappointment and judgment. With that in mind, we can get curious about what we aren’t willing to feel in the process of creating our results.

Author and leadership guru Gay Hendricks highlights this phenomenon, which he calls The Upper Limit Problem, in his book The Big Leap. According to Hendricks, the principal obstacle to success that affects everyone is our tendency to sabotage ourselves once we exceed a self-imposed artificial limit. All of us have an internal control that sets a limit for the levels of success, love, creativity, happiness, and well-being that we allow ourselves to enjoy. Once we exceed this limit, we write stories like, “This is too good to be true” or “I can’t possibly have it all.” Then, we unconsciously fall back into our comfort zones, tethered by fear or unworthiness.

When I look back on occasions when I’ve accomplished a major goal, I attribute my success to unwavering commitment and belief in possibility. From the time I graduated college, I yearned to live and work in Latin America. I applied for a Rotary scholarship, the Foreign Service, and a multitude of jobs based in the region – all to no avail. It was a multi-year-long winding path, but eventually, I arrived. Sure, I had countless moments of doubt and demotivation when it wasn’t manifesting in my way or timeline, but I never lost sight of my conviction. I was also willing to persevere through those difficult feelings of disappointment, impatience, and critical feedback from my superiors telling me I wasn’t ready. Little did I know the discomfort and imposter syndrome in store for me when I eventually landed in Buenos Aires as a 28-year-old leading a team of locals.

Hendricks advocates that surpassing your Upper Limits begins with belief. Consider where you are sabotaging your results because you don’t feel like you truly deserve success. Or, what pain aren’t you willing to experience? Maybe you’re afraid of judgment or alienation from your inner circle as you make changes in your life that you know are required to accomplish your dream. Seek the support you need to identify those limitations, hold the dream with you (especially when your inevitable doubts creep in), and then watch with wonder as you prove that you’re the all-powerful creator of your life.

The pain was excruciating, and it wouldn’t dissipate. I’d never experienced anything like it. One day, I woke up with a kink in my neck, and within a few hours, I could barely turn my head. The throbbing started at the base of my skull and reverberated up through my head and into my temples. I couldn’t even find a reprieve in sleep because the agony only intensified at night. Nothing physical could explain the source of the torment I was experiencing, and I desperately wished there were. Maybe then there would be an easy fix. But deep down, I knew it was something more profound; psychological and emotional forces stemming from my subconscious were to blame. Alas, I’d have to confront the real foe: my resistance.

Not coincidentally, this episode began shortly after declaring I was leaving my corporate identity behind. I was experiencing a death of sorts, and my body knew it before my conscious mind. In reflecting on this experience, which relentlessly persisted in the form of migraines and severe muscle spasms for four weeks without relief, I realized the overwhelming attachment I had to my former self. I was so identified with the job title, the structured schedule, and the rush of cortisol day after day as I jumped out of bed before dawn to start the whole charade over again. Despite an ever-present hum of anxiety and lack of authentic purpose, I took comfort in the safety of the familiar. I didn’t realize it until I was a few months removed, but I felt an illusory protection behind all the masks I wore in order to fit a high-achiever profile.

The pain I experienced when I finally decided to step into a new life ripe with uncertainty felt like a complete physical and emotional breakdown. Now that my body has recovered and I’m more distanced from the experience, I can see it for what it was: an unraveling. That word had a negative connotation until recently when I heard it eloquently explained in a podcast. Famed researcher and author Brené Brown explained that “ravel” means “a tangle, a cluster, or a knot.” And that’s exactly how I was unknowingly living for the entirety of my adult life: so tight that I could barely move, stifled by my self-imposed inflexibility.  To unravel means to loosen the knot, but as you may experience in a good massage, you have to work through the pain to get the muscles to let go and relax.

I can’t say I’m fully unknotted, but I’m making progress through an intentional practice. This quote from renowned author Steven Pressfield hit remarkably close to home as I’ve moved through this life change: “Most of us have two lives. The life we live, and the unlived life within us. Between the two stands Resistance.” Years of being wound up in a system that celebrates and rewards stress doesn’t dissipate in a couple of months; my resistance to letting it go was strong and visceral. But as I gift myself with more compassion, grace, and the occasional massage, I know I’m on my way.

I’ll never forget the beach walk with my mother when I confessed that I wanted breast implants. As a senior in college approaching graduation, I’d been deliberating on this decision for months. I was so nervous to tell her, even a bit embarrassed, fearful she might judge me. Paradoxically, my mom was my model – I consciously and unconsciously emulated the measures she took to uphold the standard of beauty and perfection she set for herself. Maybe I was fearful of my parents seeing me as anything but their child, much less a woman who cared about enhancing a part of her body that is so often sexualized. Truthfully, I don’t recall all the stories swirling in my head before I broached the topic, but the angst I felt is still palpable. To my mother’s credit, she neither shamed nor judged me. While she wasn’t overtly supportive, she acknowledged that I was technically an adult and insisted on helping me find the right doctor.

Ironically, it was that right doctor who discouraged me from going under the knife. But if I’m anything, I’m resolute and take action – albeit sometimes, too swiftly. I barely remember the immediate aftermath of the surgery, other than I was anxious to get back to my regular workout routine lest I start losing muscle and gaining weight. I do clearly recall how awkward I felt about telling my friends and subsequent partners about my procedure. I was compelled to proactively address what I perceived to be the elephant in the room and then justify my decision as neither superficial, sexual nor a superfluous use of my savings. “It made me feel more comfortable with how my clothes fit,” I rationalized to others and to myself. But deep down, I was yearning for perfection, and this was just another means to achieve it. For the next 17 years, I deliberately wore clothing that was neither too low nor too tight because the last thing I wanted was attention on my breasts, especially if it meant I might be taken less seriously as an intelligent, sophisticated woman.

A year ago, I began hearing the quiet whisper of a voice in my head – not the usual shouting critic this time. It told me to remove the implants. I knew I should have addressed the issue sooner; my doctor made it clear from the first consultation that they would need to be replaced in 10 to 15 years. I kept thinking I’d deal with it after meeting the love of my life, starting a family, and finishing breastfeeding babies. But the Universe had a different order of operations in store. If I’m honest, that was my excuse for ignoring the real matter: how I actually feel about my body – with or without implants. I hid them for almost two decades, during which time I sadly continued to nitpick every aspect of my body, and yet I couldn’t fathom what I’d look like without them. Throughout the last year, the signs and the voice only grew louder, despite multiple doctors trying to convince me to replace the implants with new ones. I knew it was time to face the music – or the knife, rather – and I went back under with the intention of honoring my own intuition and recovering my natural form.

I was prepared to be in some shock upon seeing myself for the first time, but nothing could truly prepare me for how I would really feel. Before I even looked down, the doctor informed me that one of the implants had been ruptured, and I likely had silicone leaking into my body for at least a year or more. Right away, it confirmed that I’d made the right choice, at least for the sake of my internal health. But as for the external, the dissonance as I analyze my new aesthetic continues to challenge me psychologically and emotionally. Now, as I look in the mirror, I see not only the original scars but new ones – larger and more pronounced. And yet, my authentic self knows that those scars are representative of the battle with my shadow, an essential part of my journey to real self-love. The breast implants were never a call for others to look at me. In fact, I kept them so well hidden that anyone who hadn’t known me before had no idea. Instead, I now understand that they were a desperate cry for me to see myself. I thought that augmentation would make me happy to look in the mirror naked and exposed, and in retrospect, what it actually exposed was the inner wounding that no amount of surgery could ever heal. So as my body continues to mend itself, so does my soul. It’s a journey of a lifetime, but I know that there is one (or two, to be precise) fewer layers concealing my heart and obstructing my path to becoming the love of my own life.

While the year-end holidays can be a celebratory time for gifting and gathering, I know I am not alone in experiencing physical and emotional trials, ranging from complex family dynamics to added financial pressures to feeling stretched by gratuitous social commitments. As the festive lights twinkle with hope for the new year, I’m reminded that for some, including myself, the holidays also usher in a shadow of pain. It’s a shadow that grew larger for me two years ago when the merriment of Christmas was eclipsed by the loss of my mother, echoing an earlier grief from losing my grandmother on the same day ten years before. The temptation to evade or numb those feelings is strong and even more accessible this time of year – with more events, more food and alcohol, and more excuses to escape feeling anything. Perhaps it seems counterintuitive, but if I were to give one gift to myself and the people I care about, it would be a safe entry into the pain. The renowned psychiatrist and founder of analytical psychology Carl Jung wisely said, “until you feel the unfelt thing, you will call it destiny, and it will rule your life.” How many of us are letting unprocessed negative emotions dominate our existence?

In one such unconventional space where I allowed myself to traverse the pain, I had the profound realization that so many significant decisions in my life were subconscious attempts to avoid that very emotion. If it wasn’t the grief from losing some of the most beloved people in my life, it was the unassuming agony of simply believing that I wasn’t enough. I saw that I’ve been constructing a reality of falsehood to fill that hole, but it’s been like putting a Band-Aid on a broken ankle. Healing, I’ve learned, is an inside job. While I would do anything to bring my mother back, I would be a fool not to learn from her traumatic disease. It was only through the pain of losing her that I could see my learned patterns of masking the not-enoughness, many of which were unconsciously modeled by her, most notably self-neglect and body disassociation. From contraceptives to diet culture to cosmetic procedures, I sought external solutions to internal disquiet and a belief that perfection was an achievable state. But none of that generated true acceptance because, I realized, there was nothing to fix in the first place.

This narrative may seem intimate for a public forum, but it’s shared with purpose. As a female leader in male-dominated corporate spaces, my insecurities once hid behind a facade of physical attractiveness and assertive demeanor, masking my genuine self, which I perceived as inadequate. However, witnessing my mother lose everything external that she worked so hard to uphold and, more significantly, the transience of life prompted a profound reevaluation of my own self-criticism. It sparked a slow but seismic shift towards authenticity, which, I’ll admit, is a work in progress. While I do not judge anyone for the decisions they make about their bodies and their lives, and I believe we are all on our respective paths to remembering who we really are, I assert that stepping into the pain and even facing these uncomfortable truths about ourselves is the key to being better leaders and ultimately, living our most fulfilled lives overall.

Now, I stand before you, advocating for embracing our fears and discomfort as a gateway to better leadership and a richer life. Acceptance and vulnerability are not just personal virtues but professional strengths. If you’re considering stepping into this arena of truth, I offer a few recommendations:

1. Find a sanctuary for introspection with someone who can guide you, like a coach, therapist, or mentor.
2. Engage with your body’s wisdom beyond intellectual understanding through practices like meditation or mindful movement.
3. Ease into your pain with patience, allowing yourself to experience it fully without rushing or forcing.
4. Bring a new level of consciousness to your pain, approaching it with curiosity and even compassion rather than avoidance.
5. Remain with your feelings, allowing them to evolve at their own pace.
6. Let new insights flow from this process, and consider how they align with your deeper values and purpose. Read more about this here.
7. Return to a place of balance through grounding exercises like walking in nature that affirm your stability and security.

To be present in the full spectrum of life is to be fully alive. This richness is what makes us human and connects us to others. There is immense power in emotion, and in our willingness to face it, we find the keys to our spirit’s expansive nature.

Our Deepest Fear

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness
That most frightens us.

We ask ourselves
Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.

Your playing small
Does not serve the world.
There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking
So that other people won’t feel insecure around you.
We are all meant to shine,
As children do.
We were born to make manifest
The glory of God that is within us.

It’s not just in some of us;
It’s in everyone.

And as we let our own light shine,
We unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we’re liberated from our own fear,
Our presence automatically liberates others.

~Marianne Williamson, A Return to Love

In January 2009, I faced a defining moment in my early career, shattering my world of perceived security. With a mix of nerves and confidence, I stepped into what I believed was my first performance review meeting at the consulting firm where I had spent the last 18 months proving my merit. I sat across the table from the three senior leaders, all former consultants who had left one of the world’s most notable firms to start their own boutique business. Rehearsing my speech to myself, I was prepared to list all my contributions and accomplishments. But one of them spoke first, and frankly, I don’t remember much after hearing, “Nathalie, unfortunately, this is not a performance review…” Instead of an evaluation, I was met with the stark reality of being downsized, a casualty of the global financial crisis. All the hours, stress, and sacrifices led me to one of the most humbling events of my life: two days later, I sat in the Georgia Department of Labor, applying for unemployment.

While that experience was undoubtedly traumatic, it planted the seeds for my ensuing personal and professional evolution over the next 14 years. Cast adrift as a young professional amid the most significant global economic instability since The Great Depression, I confronted the cost of working against my intrinsic beliefs. I was socialized to pursue what I thought I should do to keep up with my peers, where the badge of honor entailed bragging about inhumane hours; more work equated to more value – a relentless demonstration of worth. In exchange, I encountered profound burnout and my walking papers. But in every challenge lies a clandestine compass pointing toward our true north. Mine was a stepping stone on a longer road to discovering my principal values – wellness, expansion, connection, and individuality. Ultimately, it was a lesson on how prioritization of decisions and actions in accordance with those tenets results in a life of greater ease and flow versus grind and strife, paving the way to fulfillment.

Determining one’s values is not a passive exercise; it is an active engagement that impacts every aspect of existence. My own journey of alignment led me to embrace the chakra system as a coaching framework, a seven-level model that offers a guide to understanding our values and uncovering what we truly hold important. If you’re wondering where to begin defining and refining your own value system, below I share some specific questions related to each chakra to contemplate:

Root Chakra (Survival and Stability): Consider what fills your space and how you allocate your finances. These aspects reflect your values related to foundational security and material needs.

Sacral Chakra (Relationships and Pleasure): Reflect on what activities energize you and where you apply discipline. Here, you’ll find values linked to creativity, connection, and emotional fulfillment.

Solar Plexus Chakra (Personal Power and Self-Esteem): Examine where you devote your energy and where you are most reliable in your life, revealing values around confidence, autonomy, and discipline.

Heart Chakra (Love and Compassion): Observe your passions and where/when you feel most alive, which may hint at values of service, relationships, and communal ties.

Throat Chakra (Communication): Notice where your external and internal dialogue focus and/or conflict, highlighting values related to expression and authenticity.

Third Eye Chakra (Intuition and Insight): Pay attention to your dreams and long-term goals, suggesting values associated with growth and development.

Crown Chakra (Spirituality and Understanding): Explore your interests in learning and contemplation, which can reveal values of universal connection.

Values are our guiding forces, shaping our perceptions and experiences. They are not just the compass but the architects of our reality, molding the energy around us to magnetize our deepest desires. Personally, my values led me to make one of the most momentous changes in my life to date: leaving my corporate identity – one in which, a bit ironically, I was perpetually on the other side of the table laying off employees on behalf of employers whose mission and vision I did not share. The role I performed (and indeed, it was a performance) across various companies and industries left me unwell, contracted, disconnected, and adrift. Thus, I became a coach not only to heal myself but to meld these potent realms of energy and business, steering leaders and organizations towards cultures that resonate with their intrinsic values.

Looking back, the loss of my first job was a catalyst for my own growth and professional purpose as I learned the innate wisdom of our energetic makeup. I invite you to delve into the values that propel you and your organization forward. Contact me if you are curious about how coaching and leadership development can support you in co-creating a culture of success steeped in the true essence of your values. Together, let’s turn the intangible into the actionable, from value to valor, from profit to purpose, and from mere existence to exuberant living.

https://www.epm-studio.com/
https://www.linkedin.com/in/nathalieweister/

Since leaving my corporate job a few months ago, I have been frolicking in the space between intervals. When I left, it felt like I was freefalling. I knew I didn’t want to return to where I had come from, but the destination ahead was still formless, and for the first time, I allowed life to unfold organically. Since August, I’ve indulged my adventurous spirit, from braving the unpredictability of Burning Man (which proved to be more mud than flames) to wandering through the stunning landscapes of Turkey. And just last week, I intended to continue my escapade with a trip to Mexico, which I anticipated would feel like a gratifying homecoming. Mexico is where my sense of wonder was ignited as a young teen. It’s where I learned to savor foreign cultures, cuisines, and languages. It is also the place where I first recognized my unique gifts. Having lived there for two years as a budding professional, I anticipated this return to be a nostalgic homecoming. Yet, a few hours before departure, I found myself anchored by a wave of anxiety, its roots elusive. After a few days of introspection, I realized that traveling to Mexico was only delaying my next act, a transformation eager to emerge. I see now that there was nowhere to return – I am already home. My anxiety and physical pain the night before the trip were mere echoes of more profound emotional discomfort, urging me to step into my calling as a full-time leadership coach.

Throughout my career, I have juggled dual personas. As a proficient corporate Human Resources Business Partner, I’ve unlocked the secrets to peak performance, harnessing adaptability, cross-cultural insight, and a relentless pursuit of excellence to propel teams to success. I have spent my years in these roles coaching leaders, helping awaken awareness and manage their energy to amplify their influence and impact. Separately, I’ve been an ardent disciple of personal growth and consciousness expansion modalities. My spiritual journey has been one of deep self-discovery and healing. I thought my purpose was to bridge these two worlds. Yet, I am realizing for myself and, in turn, for the leaders I work with that this journey is not about traveling outside, nor is it about fusing disparate parts; it’s about integrating all the parts within. We are all inherently whole, and at home in ourselves, we simply forget. Philosopher Alan Watts encapsulates this in his discourse “The Truth,” where he advocates for a shift in our perceptual scale. Just as a microscope, the naked eye, and a telescope each offer valid yet distinct views, we must adjust our focus to perceive the whole. Under magnification, a newspaper appears as a scatter of dots. Viewed in plain sight, however, it transforms into a coherent narrative or image.

Embracing this analogy, I am connecting the dots of my life, and I extend this service to the courageous leaders prepared to walk this path with me. “EPM Studio,” my leadership coaching venture that takes flight today, signifies “Empowermentor” – a blend of partner, mentor, and coach on this transformative journey to align your entire essence, to live and lead with fulfillment. To me, that is the definition of freedom. The “Integrated Leadership Pathway” I offer is a composite of individual sessions or modules, each honing a specific leadership attribute: from grounding techniques in the face of uncertainty to empathetic communication, bold strategic visioning, and beyond, all converging in a profound connection with your core self and purposeful action towards achieving your ambitions.

So, if you’re ready, let’s go. Allow me to guide you and your teams in connecting the dots to craft an exquisite portrait of your leadership journey.

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“The universe is only as large as our perception of it. When we cultivate our awareness, we are expanding the universe. This expands the scope, not just of the material at our disposal to create from, but of the life we get to live.”
~ Rick Rubin, The Creative Act: A Way of Being

Since leaving my corporate role a few months ago and venturing out on my own path of personal transformation, I’ve been inundated with job postings and seduced by countless company websites, many of which are touting inclusion as one of their foremost enterprise values. And yet, while I support prioritization of inclusive work environments that engender psychological safety and spaces where employees can contribute without fear of being ostracized or suppressed, I wonder if we are putting our energy and efforts in the right place.

Last week as I was travelling through Turkey, I was saddened and horrified by the breaking news of yet another overt example of hate on a massive scale – a bleak contrast to the love and connection I was experiencing on my trip. The beauty of travel for me has always been rooted in its ability to open my eyes to diverse perspectives and foster a deep appreciation for both our cross-border differences and our likenesses. As I traversed a foreign terrain, attempted to learn bits and pieces of another language, and connected with individuals from a uniquely blended culture over Turkish coffee and “delights,” I found it difficult to grasp how dissimilar viewpoints could be the source of so much pain and suffering. Like so many others, my immediate reaction to the barbaric crimes against humanity and subsequent propagation of further divisive acts was heartbreak and disillusionment.

I would be remiss to appear as if I am trivializing a profound conflict with significant historical, cultural, and religious depth by relating it to the corporate universe; I have barely scratched the surface of understanding the nature of the recurring struggle in the Middle East. And I can’t help but highlight that the dynamics (and cost) of power and exclusion are not limited to geopolitical scenes. While programs and positions focused on “inclusion” are a popular corporate antidote to build bridges, I challenge these initiatives as the solutions to enduring change. I assert that true inclusion, synonymous with acceptance, begins with self-awareness. Naturally, we embrace those who mirror our welcomed traits and we shun reflections of our “shadow selves,” as the renowned psychologist Carl Jung would characterize them. As I was listening to a recent podcast interview with one of my favorite performance coaches, Peter Crone, he pointed out that the true marker of a superhero is when he recognizes and accepts his shortcomings. None of us are any different: we are all the superheroes of our own lives. But our true power lies in our ability to integrate the contrasting qualities of light and dark before we have any hope of fostering them outside of ourselves – whether in corporate ecosystems or on the geopolitical stage. To quote Crone: “everyone is looking for profound acceptance, true surrender to that which they are on all levels, through all dimensions.”  Recognizing our duality within, which at times manifests in evil beyond comprehension, can lead to broader understanding externally, in workplaces and beyond.

While Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DE&I) programs hold immense value, they often address symptoms rather than causes. Genuine healing and understanding stem from a willingness to first look inward. We put a Band-Aid on a cut to help stop the bleeding and protect the wound while it heals, but the healing itself is an inside job. Translate that to organizations and leaders, and before we can promote inclusion as a value, the invitation is to step into our individual wholeness by accepting the parts of ourselves that we keep locked away in the darkness. We must shine a light on all of it, acknowledging that it’s the common ground that makes us human in the first place. Again, at the risk of seeming reductionist as I reference a storied and complex conflict that has once again erupted at the expense of far too many innocent lives, I contend that it can serve as a reminder of the cost of continuing to find the faults in the “other”. The first step to healing and perhaps the only way to comprehend the hate, the rejection and the separation in this world is the recognition that we are on a collective journey from division to inclusion. And if we can embrace that we are the contrast, there is nothing or no one “else” to include beyond ourselves. As Crone aptly states, “we won’t have world peace as long as we’re at war with ourselves.” True peace and inclusion begin with self-love, compassion, and acceptance, radiating outwards to our communities and the world.

From my spot on the ground, I marveled at a massive treehouse-like structure lodged inside the belly of a wooden statuesque animal. Later, I’d learn this magnificent creature was a bison. I watched in wonder at the flurry of costumed “burners” engaging with the sculpture: some climbing its 2-story ladder, others queuing at a makeshift, moneyless bar beneath the bison’s head, and still more dancing at the adjoining DJ booth. Lost in my thoughts and trying to identify the animal, a man with a deep Southern drawl introduced himself. He was part of the crew that had spent six months fabricating the artist’s vision, piece by piece, and then transporting it by truck all the way from New Orleans to Nevada. After a week, this incredible construction would be burned to ashes.

This spectacle encapsulates the essence of Burning Man: an annual gathering of over 70,000 people of all ages, races, and nationalities. Every year, a temporary community is erected in the middle of a seven square-mile stretch of dusty land a few hours northeast of Reno, Nevada, dubbed “the Playa” (which aptly translates to “beach” in Spanish). The event’s core principles include radical inclusion, self-reliance, and self-expression, and they foster the greatest example of freedom, compassion, and originality that I’ve ever witnessed. Before attending, I was not only skeptical, I was terrified. Intentionally trekking into some of the harshest conditions imaginable with thousands of perfect strangers to figure out how to survive and thrive seems like a questionable pastime and use of resources, but I now understand the allure. Burning Man is not just a week filled with events and adventures that sober and drug-fueled minds alike can dream up. It is a transformative ceremony that beautifully imparts some of the most profound life lessons available, should its participants choose to pay attention.

First, people are inherently creative. That doesn’t mean that everyone is an artist on his resume, but there is no denying we all possess a multitude of natural gifts. There are no bounds to imagination and we are individually responsible for actively deciding and generating our respective realities. On the Playa, the awe-inspiring artistry, juxtaposed with the extreme elements of heat, dust, and (in my case last week) unprecedented rain and mud, deepened my appreciation for human resilience and innovation. Despite the challenging backdrop, people not only survived, but they created what was surely one of the most memorable experiences of their lives. Case in point – I witnessed a leader from my own camp engineer a small, 3-foot replica of the eponymous “Man” effigy. Due to weather conditions, the actual ceremonious burn in the center of the Playa was delayed indefinitely, but our mini burn drew an impressive crowd of a few hundred people who were overjoyed to support each other and celebrate, regardless of the circumstances. This ingenuity brought a rare intimacy to the large-scale event and an even deeper appreciation of its splendor.  

Another observation I made as I walked, biked, skipped and trudged through the largest adult playground ever conceived was that we are all still kids at heart yearning to play without judgement or expectations of how to behave. It felt like I was returning to a natural state – no masks, no mirrors – just pure joy and fun. As I pedaled around the Playa on my lime green beach cruiser in a tutu and furry bear hat, I couldn’t ignore the fleeting feeling I had and the silly grin it elicited. When did I forget that fun is a necessary ingredient for a fulfilling life? While serious responsibilities and genuine hardship are inescapable realities for us all, if we never stop to celebrate the unlimited miracle of our existence, we’re missing the point.

Most importantly, the tradition of constructing magnificent art installations surrounded by music, educational workshops, spontaneous happenings, and a giant party with an intentional plan to burn it all down after a week underscores the ephemerality of life. That environment reflected my default state, which is to amass material possessions to buffer the discomfort of the full spectrum of the human experience. Yet, it reminded me that I don’t get to keep anything when my time is up. All I really “own” are the memories. The Playa is the epitome of nature – real, unpredictable, and ever-changing, and it’s from the cycle of creation and destruction that new ideas spring forth. Ashes cultivate the soil for future creation, over and over again in perpetuity. My time at Burning Man reinforced that despite my desire to hang my hat on some grandiose meaning of life, the purpose is simple: just to live its fullest expression. So, go play in the dirt, offer help to neighbors in need, cry among strangers in a temple bonded by collective suffering, and watch as it burns to the ground, knowing we have the power to build it all over again, ever different and better than before.

“By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return.” Genesis 3:19 

“All go to the same place; all come from dust, and to dust all return.” Ecclesiastes 3:20

This week, I am taking a leap into the unknown. As the new moon powerfully highlights a time for internal rebirth and I too approach the start of another lap around the sun, I am leaving my job without a concrete plan for the next move. For the first time in recent memory, my horizon is shrouded in mystery, akin to a thirsty wanderer in the desert gazing upon a blurry expanse of sand. This may seem insignificant to some, but for me, it’s monumental. Sleep has often been a casualty to my meticulous planning and nocturnal rumination over “what-ifs.”

Now, I find myself on the precipice, trusting in the parachute on my back to slow my descent before I meet the unyielding ground below. A profound shift within me has prompted this divergence from my usual, predictable trajectory. The last 5 years have been wrought with personal and collective loss, and I’ve grown weary of life on autopilot, of living my days shackled to habitual patterns and “should’s”. I yearn to cultivate a space where I can listen to the whispers of my innermost Self who knows who she is independent of this or any other job, rather than the chorus of societal expectations insisting I adhere to the recognizable path.

During a recent farewell conversation at the office with a friend and colleague, speaking in Spanish, I found myself at a loss for the word ‘parachute’ while articulating my feelings of leaping into the unknown. He reminded me of the translation: “paracaídas,” which literally means to “stop the fall.” It struck me that’s not at all what I desire – I don’t actually want to halt my descent. In fact, I yearn for the freedom in the fall itself, the exhilarating surrender to gravity that skydivers famously chase.

As I stand on the edge of this cliff, teetering between the familiar and the uncertain, a few ideas take flight with me:

1. To alter the course of our lives, we must shift our perspective. In my training to become a coach, we explored the transformative power of a change in geography. As simple an act as standing up from a seated position can jolt your energy and shift your entire outlook. To leap off any cliff (real or metaphorical), one must first climb to the peak. From this new vantage point, problems once deemed insurmountable may seem more manageable, and although new challenges will surely arise, we can face them with a fresh lens and an invigorated spirit. The bird’s-eye view provides a gentle reminder of our relative position in the grand tapestry of the world.

2. Yet, despite our minuteness in this cosmic spectacle, we humans have a unique gift – the ability to feel truly alive. This sense of vitality blossoms not from the familiarity of autopilot but from the fertile soil of discomfort. The greatest growth sprouts amidst uncertainty, when we venture beyond the borders of our comfort zone, or as one of my favorite teachers Joe Dispenza describes it, “breaking the habit of being yourself.”

3. Alongside that fear and discomfort, trust serves as an indispensable companion. This journey of life is a dance; a harmonious tension between the unsettling thrill of limitless, unknown horizons and the sublime surrender to the Universe’s guiding energy. Writer Joseph Campbell famously said, “the cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek.” We must trust that we have the internal resources to confront whatever darkness is inside that proverbial cave; and, when we jump off cliffs, that the parachute will indeed open. Although on occasion the landings can be rough, most often we touch down on our feet (or as I’ve experienced, laughing my butt off, literally, while sliding to a stop on my rear).

4. Lastly, the above metaphor emphasizes the importance of laughter and play. As we mature and life inherently becomes more complex, we often overlook the innate lightness we embodied as children. When did we lose our ability to revel in the magic of the present moment, allow ourselves to be overcome with laughter, or for our imagination to whisk us away to alternate realities?

We are not merely spectators of our lives, but co-creators of our path with the Universe. Our childhood fantasies are not limited to the realm of make-believe. While I recognize that we all have real-world responsibilities and I am in a privileged position in knowing my daily needs for survival are met, I nonetheless believe that, even in small ways, we can all reassess and reconfigure our lives. We hold the potential to recalibrate and blaze new trails; or to free fall, trusting in the parachute’s life-saving grace after we’ve savored the majesty of the descent. So here’s to the leap, for in it lies the true exhilaration of this one beautiful life.