Last night I had dinner with a dear friend who treated me to a wonderful birthday meal of filet mignon, all my favorite sides, complete with a glass of wine and a slice of decadent chocolate ganache cake. How wonderful to take the time to plan and prepare such a wonderful meal to honor my birthday. It was fabulous. But the best part of the evening was reflecting on the past, the present, the challenges, the lessons, the growth and what's in store for our next trip around the sun.
Today, February 24th, is my actual birthday. The weather where I am is quite perfect for beach walking, which is exactly what I was planning to do for the better part of my birthday, but the Universe had other plans. It gave me the perfect rainy day to unplug, curl up, get cozy, snuggle up with my cats and do some reflecting and writing.
What a long, strange trip it's been. And what an interesting journey I had today recalling it.
In 2018, I thought I was finally living my dream—purchasing a retreat center where I would share the tools and resources I've acquired over the years and inspire others in their own transformation. Prior to the purchase I had spent two years envisioning every detail: writers finishing their books in quiet corners, mastermind groups brainstorming strategies and experiencing breakthroughs, and seekers finding safe space in the peaceful setting of my magical property. When I signed the papers on June 1, I named the property Ripple on Silver Lake, a named inspired by my Mom's favorite song and her own story spending summers on Silver Lake. I saw nothing but possibility ahead.
But again, the Universe had other plans.
Just weeks after the closing, my father’s health took a serious turn. After a long hospital stay with lots of tubes, meds and a ventilator keeping him alive, he landed in long-term respiratory care hospital followed by an intensive physical rehabilitation center. He was eventually discharged back to his home, without the support he needed to care for himself. I had barely recovered from supporting my mother through her stroke and her death six months earlier. I was in the midst of grieving the loss of my younger brother to brain cancer. And I was faced another difficult situation—supporting my dad while he adjusted to life back at home after almost a year in health care facilities. I left everything behind and moved to Florida for six months to help Dad regain his independence.
Six months became a year. Falls, complications, and hospital stays became our new normal. Dad often said, “I hate that I’m being a burden and keeping you from your dream.” “You’re not keeping me from anything,” I reassured him. “You’re part of my life, and this is where I am choosing to be right now.”
While in Florida, I canceled retreats, workshops, and countless Airbnb reservations. Guests reached out with understanding but disappointment, saying, “We were so looking forward to our time there.” “When this is over, Ripple on Silver Lake will be ready to welcome you,” I promised. But then, just as Dad’s health stabilized and I was finally able to return to New Hampshire, COVID-19 shut the world down.
There were no words—just cancellations, closures, and a resounding silence in every corner of my business.
I thought about how much I had poured into this dream—years of planning, manifesting, and believing. Lots of time and money to book events, manage contracts, set up rooms. I thought about how unfair it felt to lose momentum just as everything was aligning. And I thought about my father—how could I regret being there for him when he needed me most? How could I prevent the occasional resentment from seeping through? How did this become my life?
In survival mode, I asked myself: What can I do to keep the house afloat? The answer was far from my original vision—I converted the retreat center into lodging for traveling nurses.
The truth is, it was never my plan to run a lodging business for healthcare travelers. It was a forced pivot to pay the bills. But in the midst of my disappointment, something unexpected happened—the travelers who stayed at Ripple on Silver Lake brought warmth, stories, and a new kind of purpose to the space. I felt good about serving my community and loved hosting my travelers. It was a wonderful experience, however, truth be told, it was never my true calling. It took awhile, a year to be exact, but the realization hit me hard: I was no longer living on purpose. I was living my real life our of necessity, but it was not my dream life.
And so, I made a choice in the direction of a new dream. I wasn't quite sure of the details yet, but I knew it was time to move on.
In October 2024, I sold the property. I decided to give myself a year to relax, regroup and create my next steps. I moved to Florida to spend some time with my father and support him in his next steps. I wasn’t just closing a chapter—I was stepping into something completely new. The sale of the property gave me the time freedom and financial freedom I needed to pause, reflect, explore and reinvent my life and my vision.
During my reinvention, I recalled a day, years before. I was sitting by my mom’s bedside in the hospital, watching the rise and fall of her chest as she prepared to move on to her next great adventure. Her life had been filled with love, resilience, and deep commitment to her family, but I couldn’t help but wonder: Had she felt fulfilled? Had she done everything she wanted to do? Had she felt seen and heard for the unique person she was, beyond the roles she played?
Those questions stayed with me long after she passed. They echoed even louder six months later when my younger brother lost his battle with brain cancer. And even louder the very next day, when my dad’s heart gave out, setting me on an even deeper caregiving journey. As I navigated the overwhelming responsibilities, the grief, and the endless to-do lists, I kept asking myself: What is the purpose of this? Whose life am I living? What legacy am I creating? What will I leave behind—not just for my family, but for the world?"
Losing my mom was the catalyst for a profound realization: Legacy isn’t just about what we leave behind—it’s about how we live every single day. It’s about embracing our unique purpose, sharing our wisdom, and creating ripples that inspire others.
I've loved the impact this new way of being has had on my relationship with my dad. Our time together has been precious with an occasional reminder that this is merely a stopover place for me and, by no means, my final destination. I've taken some time to do a deep dive into what's next and have arrived at my new focus—to guide women, like my mom and so many others, in reclaiming their sense of purpose and living fully beyond the roles and expectations that society and their careers place on them. Women who have given so much deserve to explore their dreams, leave their mark, impact future generations beyond their traditional role as a mother, and embrace the truth that their lives matter in deeply personal ways.
Through this journey, I’ve developed new skills, learned new tools, had insights, and a created a framework to help women step into their next chapter with clarity, confidence, and joy. It’s my way of honoring the lessons my mom taught me—not just in words, but in how she lived and loved.
It’s never too late to create a life filled with meaning, connection, and impact. This work isn’t just about caregiving or overcoming challenges; it’s about empowering women to live heart-centered, purposeful lives and intentionally create the legacy they were meant to live--and leave.
If you've ever found yourself at a crossroads, wondering what comes next, you are not alone. As part of my own process, I developed a series of questions I've asked myself and journaled about. These questions helped me to dig deep into my why, reconnect with what is most important to me, revisit my values and passions, and figure out what was next for me. I've decided to take the questions and incorporate them into a Reflection Journal. And as my birthday gift to anyone in transition, I'd like to share it to inspire next steps. Happy Birthday to me! Download your Reflection Journal gift here.
Today, February 24th, is my actual birthday. The weather where I am is quite perfect for beach walking, which is exactly what I was planning to do for the better part of my birthday, but the Universe had other plans. It gave me the perfect rainy day to unplug, curl up, get cozy, snuggle up with my cats and do some reflecting and writing.
What a long, strange trip it's been. And what an interesting journey I had today recalling it.
In 2018, I thought I was finally living my dream—purchasing a retreat center where I would share the tools and resources I've acquired over the years and inspire others in their own transformation. Prior to the purchase I had spent two years envisioning every detail: writers finishing their books in quiet corners, mastermind groups brainstorming strategies and experiencing breakthroughs, and seekers finding safe space in the peaceful setting of my magical property. When I signed the papers on June 1, I named the property Ripple on Silver Lake, a named inspired by my Mom's favorite song and her own story spending summers on Silver Lake. I saw nothing but possibility ahead.
But again, the Universe had other plans.
Just weeks after the closing, my father’s health took a serious turn. After a long hospital stay with lots of tubes, meds and a ventilator keeping him alive, he landed in long-term respiratory care hospital followed by an intensive physical rehabilitation center. He was eventually discharged back to his home, without the support he needed to care for himself. I had barely recovered from supporting my mother through her stroke and her death six months earlier. I was in the midst of grieving the loss of my younger brother to brain cancer. And I was faced another difficult situation—supporting my dad while he adjusted to life back at home after almost a year in health care facilities. I left everything behind and moved to Florida for six months to help Dad regain his independence.
Six months became a year. Falls, complications, and hospital stays became our new normal. Dad often said, “I hate that I’m being a burden and keeping you from your dream.” “You’re not keeping me from anything,” I reassured him. “You’re part of my life, and this is where I am choosing to be right now.”
While in Florida, I canceled retreats, workshops, and countless Airbnb reservations. Guests reached out with understanding but disappointment, saying, “We were so looking forward to our time there.” “When this is over, Ripple on Silver Lake will be ready to welcome you,” I promised. But then, just as Dad’s health stabilized and I was finally able to return to New Hampshire, COVID-19 shut the world down.
There were no words—just cancellations, closures, and a resounding silence in every corner of my business.
I thought about how much I had poured into this dream—years of planning, manifesting, and believing. Lots of time and money to book events, manage contracts, set up rooms. I thought about how unfair it felt to lose momentum just as everything was aligning. And I thought about my father—how could I regret being there for him when he needed me most? How could I prevent the occasional resentment from seeping through? How did this become my life?
In survival mode, I asked myself: What can I do to keep the house afloat? The answer was far from my original vision—I converted the retreat center into lodging for traveling nurses.
The truth is, it was never my plan to run a lodging business for healthcare travelers. It was a forced pivot to pay the bills. But in the midst of my disappointment, something unexpected happened—the travelers who stayed at Ripple on Silver Lake brought warmth, stories, and a new kind of purpose to the space. I felt good about serving my community and loved hosting my travelers. It was a wonderful experience, however, truth be told, it was never my true calling. It took awhile, a year to be exact, but the realization hit me hard: I was no longer living on purpose. I was living my real life our of necessity, but it was not my dream life.
And so, I made a choice in the direction of a new dream. I wasn't quite sure of the details yet, but I knew it was time to move on.
In October 2024, I sold the property. I decided to give myself a year to relax, regroup and create my next steps. I moved to Florida to spend some time with my father and support him in his next steps. I wasn’t just closing a chapter—I was stepping into something completely new. The sale of the property gave me the time freedom and financial freedom I needed to pause, reflect, explore and reinvent my life and my vision.
During my reinvention, I recalled a day, years before. I was sitting by my mom’s bedside in the hospital, watching the rise and fall of her chest as she prepared to move on to her next great adventure. Her life had been filled with love, resilience, and deep commitment to her family, but I couldn’t help but wonder: Had she felt fulfilled? Had she done everything she wanted to do? Had she felt seen and heard for the unique person she was, beyond the roles she played?
Those questions stayed with me long after she passed. They echoed even louder six months later when my younger brother lost his battle with brain cancer. And even louder the very next day, when my dad’s heart gave out, setting me on an even deeper caregiving journey. As I navigated the overwhelming responsibilities, the grief, and the endless to-do lists, I kept asking myself: What is the purpose of this? Whose life am I living? What legacy am I creating? What will I leave behind—not just for my family, but for the world?"
Losing my mom was the catalyst for a profound realization: Legacy isn’t just about what we leave behind—it’s about how we live every single day. It’s about embracing our unique purpose, sharing our wisdom, and creating ripples that inspire others.
I've loved the impact this new way of being has had on my relationship with my dad. Our time together has been precious with an occasional reminder that this is merely a stopover place for me and, by no means, my final destination. I've taken some time to do a deep dive into what's next and have arrived at my new focus—to guide women, like my mom and so many others, in reclaiming their sense of purpose and living fully beyond the roles and expectations that society and their careers place on them. Women who have given so much deserve to explore their dreams, leave their mark, impact future generations beyond their traditional role as a mother, and embrace the truth that their lives matter in deeply personal ways.
Through this journey, I’ve developed new skills, learned new tools, had insights, and a created a framework to help women step into their next chapter with clarity, confidence, and joy. It’s my way of honoring the lessons my mom taught me—not just in words, but in how she lived and loved.
It’s never too late to create a life filled with meaning, connection, and impact. This work isn’t just about caregiving or overcoming challenges; it’s about empowering women to live heart-centered, purposeful lives and intentionally create the legacy they were meant to live--and leave.
If you've ever found yourself at a crossroads, wondering what comes next, you are not alone. As part of my own process, I developed a series of questions I've asked myself and journaled about. These questions helped me to dig deep into my why, reconnect with what is most important to me, revisit my values and passions, and figure out what was next for me. I've decided to take the questions and incorporate them into a Reflection Journal. And as my birthday gift to anyone in transition, I'd like to share it to inspire next steps. Happy Birthday to me! Download your Reflection Journal gift here.
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