No Season Lasts Forever

I’m writing from a real place this week. One that will probably sound familiar.

A few weeks ago, I broke my own rule as a business coach: Oxygen mask on yourself first. Mine stayed off while I tended to everyone else’s. (A flight attendant’s nightmare, I know.)

Immovable events collided, and I simply couldn’t:

• Tell my son, “Find your own ride to college halfway across the country. Get yourself moved in. You’ll be fine.”
• Tell my other son, “You’re stranded in a parking lot across town? Call a tow truck and get an Uber.”
• Tell my grandson, who is five, “You can take care of yourself this weekend. Fed, washed, entertained, napped. You’ve got it. I have work to do.”
• Tell my clients, “Let’s push the work to another time. I need a week to read and catch up on laundry.”
• Tell my dog, “Allergy pills every day? Get over it.”

My values didn’t budge on any of it.

That became a problem as things piled up and everyone who counted on me needed something at once. Holding the line on what mattered most was an expensive drain on my energy.

But it was also temporary.

Dips & Valleys

A few overloaded weeks is a dip in the road. A valley is heavier: an unexpected event, a relationship in crisis, a health issue, a tragedy in your community. I’ve had those too, and I’m not putting a busy stretch in the same category. Not by a longshot.

But dips and valleys work the same way. Even the most careful planners hit both.

You can map your decade. Build the systems. Set the vision. Hire the right people. And life will still hand you a stretch where all you can manage is getting to bedtime.

That doesn’t mean the plan failed. You’re in a tough season.

The Silver Lining? Seasons End

The reframe I keep coming back to, for myself as much as anyone, is simple.

No season lasts forever. Not the dip. Not the valley. Not the climb back out, either.

I’m now happy to report: the boy is delivered and thriving at college, the car is fixed, visits from my grandson are back on schedule, and an extra shot at the vet cured Betty’s itch.

I’m writing to you from a quiet workspace after a day of energizing conversations with clients I adore. Some are taking things day by day. Others are planting a flag on the mountain top right now.

Wherever you are right now, dip or valley, you don’t need a five-step plan to climb out of it today. You need a little kindness and a lot of grace.

And it’s okay to keep one eye on your vision, even while you’re mostly watching your feet.

Because the mountaintop is coming. It always has before.

Keeping one eye on my own vision this week,
Laurie