A new friend in this community mentioned the song Vienna by Billy Joel the other day, and I realized I’d never really paid attention to the lyrics. After reading her comment, I went back and listened more carefully—and it stopped me in my tracks. The line: “You can get what you want, or you can just get old.” at first it sounds almost harsh. But the longer I sat with it, the more it felt like an invitation rather than a warning. So much of our lives—especially in the U.S.—are shaped by urgency. Hurry. Achieve. Prove. Don’t waste time. As if time is always running out. And yet the song keeps circling back to the same idea: slow down. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. What struck me most was how differently that line can be interpreted later in life. It’s not about giving up or settling. It’s about presence. About noticing where you are instead of constantly racing toward what’s next. About realizing that aging doesn’t mean being “done,” but maybe finally being allowed to move at a human pace. It also made me wonder how different things might feel if our culture truly valued its elders—not just for what we used to do, but for what we still bring: wisdom, steadiness, perspective, creativity, care. I’m curious: - Have you ever revisited a song, book, or idea later in life and heard it completely differently? - What helps you slow down and appreciate the moment you’re in? - Do you feel pressure to keep rushing—or are you learning how to resist it? I’d love to hear what resonates for you.

We had a great call yesterday, here is my Growth In Action from our call: I trust the timing of my life. The things I am outgrowing: ~ Fear that I'm not good enough. ~ Imposter syndrome ~ Putting everyone else's needs before my own. If the past chapter of my life could speak it would say to me: "Dear Connie, you are loving and devoted mother. This fact will be true regardless of how old your children are or how many times you visit them in the year. Thank you for giving this chapter of your life so much love and attention. Now, it is your turn to flourish and thrive."

Happy Tuesday, everyone ☀️ This got buried yesterday, so I'm reposting -- hope you don't mind! As we start a new week, I’ve been sitting with my January theme for the work I’m doing right now: Identity in retirement. Retirement has a way of reshaping how we see ourselves—sometimes in surprising, subtle ways, and sometimes all at once. I’ve been wondering things like: When work fell away, what parts of you stayed front and center? What surprised you about who you became—or are becoming—in retirement? Did your sense of identity feel lighter… or more untethered at first? For those of you who are retired, I’d love to hear what you’ve noticed. And for those who are approaching retirement, I’m curious what you imagine might shift. There’s no right answer—just real experiences. I’m finding that naming these changes, even casually, brings a lot of clarity. Looking forward to learning from your reflections as we begin the week.

I’ve been noticing an interesting trend in 2026 in the decluttering and simplicity space. A lot of creators have shifted from “let’s clear what no longer serves us” to a much stronger message that almost everything is “junk” and that we should stop buying nearly anything at all. It’s made me pause—not in a negative way, but a reflective one. It raises some good questions for me: What’s the difference between clutter and comfort? When does simplifying become freeing—and when does it start to feel limiting? And who decides what’s “junk” anyway? I’m finding myself less interested in extreme rules and more interested in discernment—keeping what supports my life as it is now, and being thoughtful about what I bring in next. Some things really are excess. Others add ease, creativity, or quiet pleasure. I’m curious how this trend is landing for you. Does it inspire you? Or does it make you want to define simplicity on your own terms?

Weekend check-in, anyone? 😊 Last weekend felt a little quiet around here, and I found myself missing these conversations. No pressure to be profound or productive—just popping in, sharing a small moment, or saying hello counts. I’ll be on and off with my lattes, happy to stay connected if you are.