44: A Magic Number

Our town on my Supermoon December ski.

Last week I turned 44. It feels like a magic number, right?

11, 22, 33, 44…

If I’m lucky, maybe I’ll get to experience a few more of these mirror digits in my lifetime.

It seems only fitting that this birthday landed on the eve of the third of three supermoons this fall — like the universe was winking in my direction, reminding me that something is shifting. Changing. Heading my way.

And honestly? I’d rather believe that than the opposite.

A Year of Stabilizing (and What Stabilizing Really Means)

This past year wasn’t bad. In many ways, it was better than the one before, the year of disruption and upheaval. This was the year of stabilizing. Of accepting. Of trying to settle into a new rhythm and new roles.

It’s been a strange relief to not be the one in charge of everything. Not to be the person the buck stops with. To not hold the entire ecosystem of a place in my hands every single moment.

And yet, even in the steadiness, I’ve found myself juggling. Stretching. Saying yes more often than not. Pouring myself fully into the work in front of me, the creativity, the excellence, the care. That part of me hasn’t changed. It probably never will.

But effort alone doesn’t always create margin.

This year brought clarity in quieter ways, too. Some of it was practical. Some of it was internal. And all of it added up to the same realization: the margin I want — for family, for presence, for possibility — doesn’t exist right now.

I’m at a stage of life where I want to say yes without hesitation. Yes to being with the people I love. Yes to opportunity when it appears. Yes to a life that feels spacious enough to breathe. And lately, I’ve felt how narrow things have become.

Steve works hard in a role that serves our community and anchors our family. For now, he’s steady where he is. Which means the question of what comes next, the stretching, the reimagining, the next evolution, is landing with me.

Part-time work?
Side hustles?
A brand-new full-time leap?
All of the above?

Maybe this really is the Year of the Snake at work — shedding old skin so something new can emerge.

An Unexpected Invitation

Shortly before Thanksgiving, I did something small but brave: I toggled my LinkedIn settings to “open to work.”

Just to see.

And then, out of nowhere, an organization I’d never heard of reached out and asked me to interview for their Executive Director position. I explored their website, their mission, their values — and I felt seen. Like this was meant to cross my path.

It scared me a little. In a good way.

The interviews felt aligned. Natural. Right, even.
It felt like it matched the energy of turning 44, a little magical, a little daring, a little destined.

And then the email came: they were moving forward with someone who had experience scaling a team from five to thirty employees. (And apparently, seventy to a hundred seasonal staff doesn’t quite translate.)

It sucks to be rejected. It just does.

But Also… Something Opened

I’m trying to stay in the gratitude of this:

That opportunity cracked something open in me.

It reminded me that I want more.
That I need more. That I am too damn good of a leader to keep shrinking myself into spaces that no longer fit.

And honestly? I need to be compensated accordingly. There. I said it.

This whole experience became a mirror, not just reflecting where I’ve been, but showing me where I’m heading. Or at least reminding me that heading somewhere new is necessary. What that looks like…..we will see.

This reflection isn’t about dissatisfaction.
It’s about alignment.

A Moonlit Prayer for Year 44

On the eve of my birthday, I went out on a nighttime cross-country ski. Just me, the snow, and the bright full moon.

I welcomed in my new year with that light on my face and a very specific prayer in my heart:

Let this be the year that shakes things loose.
Let this be the year that brings unexpected gifts.
Let this be the year I step fully back into myself.

The end of our tenure broke me down in ways I’m still only beginning to name. It collided with family pain and betrayal that went beyond anything I could have imagined. We’re still healing, me and the kids. But we are healing.

And this experience, this interview, this rejection, this clarity, was a step toward confidence again.

I welcome more steps.
I welcome what’s coming.
I welcome 44.