Moticise Blog | Sonia Satra

How to make your resolutions fun again

New Year’s Resolutions can be real downers.

If we’ve tried and failed at something before (and how hasn’t?), something sad happens: working toward a goal turns into a chore. It feels heavy, difficult, maybe even hopeless. And not many feelings are less motivating than those.

Up until a few weeks ago, that’s how I felt about meditation.

For God knows how long, I’d been trying to make meditation a part of my daily life. And I came up with every excuse in the book not to. After some reflection, I realized why: I didn’t know if I was doing it right. I didn’t know whether it was working. I didn’t know which kind of meditation I should do. I was so uncertain, and that was making it almost impossible to believe I’d ever meditate daily.

But then, I stumbled upon a new idea that totally changed my mindset.

The idea came from Josh Kaufman, a writer and researcher who studies learning and skill-building. In his brilliant TED Talk “The first 20 hours: how to learn anything,” he presents a pretty revolutionary idea: that we can master almost any skill in just 20 hours.

I know what you’re thinking. Whaaat? I thought it took ten thousand hours to get good at something!

That’s expert, Novel Prize-winning level. What Kaufman talks about – and what most of us really want anyway – is general competence. Learning to draw, learning a language, playing an instrument, and of course, meditation.

So I decided to try it. What would happen if I spent 20 hours practicing meditation?

Immediately I felt a huge sense of relief. Even the idea of meditating seemed less difficult. Suddenly I felt curious about it, not burdened. There was a fresh, new energy around it, and that made me actually want to do it, instead of having to force myself to.

Instead of feeling like a loser because I couldn’t stick to a habit, now it sounded fun. I like learning, I like doing new things. I’m willing to be bad at something, knowing that soon – in the foreseeable future, even – I’ll be better.

The 20-hour rule gave me permission to be bad. It gave me hope to get through the icky part. It made achievement 

Photo by Deniz Altindas on Unsplash

seem possible, real, and not all that far away.

Now, I’d love to tell you that after 20 hours of practice, I am now a confident meditator who can sit for half a day without getting antsy. But alas, that is not yet the case. I’m only at about hour number 7 (what with the holidays, a last-minute trip to Jamaica…you know how it goes), but already I’ve seen changes. I’m confident that the next 13 hours will bring even more improvement. What a difference that is from my old beliefs.

(For a really mind-blowing example of what 20 hours of practice can do, check out Kaufman’s ukulele performance at the end of his TED Talk.)

What about you? What’s something you’re working on, or want to work on, that might benefit from this? What will you spend 20 hours practicing?

Comment below, and then after 20 hours, check in again. What happened? What changed? What are you now capable of doing that you couldn’t do before?

I love this idea not only because it works, but because it injects this new energy into New Year’s Resolutions, and any other type of goal. Now, we don’t have to carry that heavy “I can’t do it” feeling into a new challenge. We can embrace it, take it one hour at a time, and master it. Maybe even before the month is over!

I can’t wait to hear all your success stories.

Go out and shine.

By |January 9th, 2018|Uncategorized|0 Comments

Don’t Forget to Do This before the year ends

During my One Life to Live days, my home was in LA, but the show was filmed in New York. For a while, I commuted back and forth every few days. (Yes, it was a little crazy, but you can get used to pretty much anything.)

At first, I stayed with friends in New York, but as my character, psycho nurse Barbara, got more screen time, I knew I needed my own place. Just a small one, somewhere to sleep, eat, and drop by bag. A friend knew of a one-bedroom sublet, with rent so cheap that I had to ask him to repeat it. It was on the Upper West Side, just two blocks from the One Life to Live set. I couldn’t believe my luck.

Then I saw the place. It was on the ground floor, and the few windows it had were literally one foot away from a brick wall. You couldn’t even see if it was sunny or raining out. It was tiny, cramped, and as dark as a cave. But the price and location were right, so reluctantly, I took it.

I’ll just get some candles, and put up some pretty curtains, or something, I told myself as I moved in. But already, the negative, dark energy of this place had begun to creep in to my mind.

After work, with every step I took on my way to that place, I felt a heaviness in my chest. I just dreaded being in it. I began to spend all my time in my studio on set, just so I didn’t have to go back there.

Just live with it, I told myself. It’s fine! All you do is sleep there. It’s not forever. What’s your problem?

But I was starting to get depressed. I felt limited, like my world was closing in on me.

In desperation, I started calling people, begging them for an out. “Anything,” I said, “please.” And then, an offer came: a realtor knew of a rent-stabilized place in the West Village. It was a fifth floor walk-up; the floors were all chewed up; the walls covered in graffiti. But it had big windows and open spaces. Light just poured in.

“You need to decide now if you want it,” he said. “Like, right now. It’s gonna go otherwise.”

The rent was three times what I was paying for the coffin uptown. But, “Yes,” I said. “I want it. I’ll take it.”

Right away, my energy turned around. This place felt so healing, so inspiring; it transformed that year for me. I was getting over a break-up, I had an awesome year working on One Life to Live, I was filming movies in both LA and NYC. Through it all, I hung on to that apartment, and a few years later, my now-husband and I came back to it. That’s where Kaya was born, and we raised her there until she was three.

“Oh my gosh. The energy in this space is just magical,” a friend said once when she came over for dinner. She was right. And I never would have found it if I hadn’t let go of (okay, run away screaming from) that first apartment – the practical one, the one I “should’ve” kept.

I had to free myself from that negativity. I had to do something that might not have made perfect sense—financially, or to other people. But I knew I had to. And when I did, it opened a whole world of possibility for me.

Now that 2017 is coming to a close, I invite you to pause and reflect on where you can use a change like that in your life. What do you want to leave behind? What do you need to let go of?

It could be stuff, or it could be people; maybe it’s a belief or habits. Maybe, like it was for me, it’s a place. Maybe it’s just negative energy around a certain person or activity.

What is it for you?

How will you leave it behind, to make space for the new year?

What will you bring with you into 2018?

Take that positive, light-filled, fifth-floor-walk-up energy, and go out and shine.

By |December 18th, 2017|Uncategorized|0 Comments

How to Reframe Your Holiday Stress

When my kids were born, people said to me things like “Oh, your first Christmas with kids! It’s gonna be fabulous. Kids make Christmas so wonderful.”

That year, and for several years after, I thought, that’s not true.

Everything was turned upside down. We were late for church, because we were 

scrambling to collect all the million baby things, the diapers, toys, bottles. Kaya would cry when we were supposed to be celebrating, and she’d sleep when we were supposed to unwrapping presents. Then she’d be awake when I wanted to sleep. I was just exhausted. (And on top of everything else, now I worried I was a terrible mother.)

It wasn’t fun. And on top of all the stress leading up to the holiday, I ended up with a 103-degree fever on Christmas Eve.

Christmas is my absolute favorite time of year. I love everything about it: the hustle and bustle, the songs, the find-the-almond-in-the-dessert tradition. But in the stress I was holding onto – in my belief that things had to be a certain way – I began to lose all that.

It culminated the year we spent Christmas Eve in the hospital, because Ty was dehydrated from throwing up. And I realized, This is ridiculous. It’s just not worth it. I’m losing what was once so special to me.

I needed to reframe my Christmas.

So the following year, I planned a little better. I let go of my expectations for what was “supposed” happen. I skipped some parties so I could get enough sleep. I didn’t eat every last cookie. I took care of myself.

And I reminded myself that not every tradition has to be exactly the way it was when I was a child. Each holiday would bring something new and wonderful. We were going to create new magic moments, and I didn’t 

have to plan them. They could just happen, when I sat back, let go, and let them.

By letting go of my stress, and welcoming the opportunity to make new memories, I found myself humming “Silver Bells” as I walked down the street. I bought wrapping paper before December 20th. And I woke up each morning refreshed and excited to plug in the Christmas tree. In other words…I came to love Christmas again.

So I invite you, no matter what holiday you’re celebrating, to check in with yourself. What are you clinging to so tightly that it’s making you stressed? What if you let go of it? What opportunities will you let in?

In my latest Moti Minute, I’ll show you one physical (and festive!) way to reframe your holiday. Comment below with your take on this. What are you letting go of, in order to make room for new magic moments?

By |December 11th, 2017|Uncategorized|0 Comments

The gift idea you haven’t thought of

Seven years after our divorce, my ex-husband gave me the gift I needed most.

A few years before, I’d had a sort of come-to-Jesus moment. A lot of people I knew were getting married, and at their weddings, I…let’s just say I couldn’t handle myself. I drank way more than I care to admit, which was unusual for me—anywhere else, I barely drank at all. Clearly there was something about weddings that triggered me.

My friend and mentor, Sheva, suggested that maybe this was the symptom of some issue I had with my own wedding. When she said that, it made me look closely at what I was hiding. There were things I needed to be honest about, things that I’d tried to bury, but needed to come to the surface.

Sheva encouraged me to reach out to Bob. We’d been divorced almost seven years, and I hadn’t spoken to him in at least four. I’d heard he was remarried and already had kids. I was with Stephen, and though I loved him, I had trouble considering marriage again. So I asked my brother-in-law, who was in touch with Bob, to ask if he’d be willing to talk to me.

He was. We decided to meet for dinner in New Jersey (back where it had all started). And as we sat down and began talking, the memories came flooding back. I saw the things I’d fallen in love with: his kindness, his charm, his humor. I saw the reasons we weren’t right for each other. We talked about the things we’d done wrong in our marriage, and some of the things we’d done right.

Photo by Nick Hillier on Unsplash

And throughout, he was so kind and accepting of everything I told him. “Oh, you can’t worry about that,” he said, or “We were young, we were learning. We didn’t know anything, neither of us was perfect…Please don’t let that stop you from moving forward.”

That’s exactly what had been happening. I’d been so hung up on past mistakes, past regrets. They’d become so poisonous that I couldn’t even go to other people’s weddings without having to drown my feelings in alcohol. And as much as I loved Stephen, I didn’t know if I’d be able to marry again.

But in talking to Bob, in being fully honest, in hearing his openness and unconditional forgiveness—I felt a deep sense of peace.

He said he’d already forgiven me, that he hadn’t even realized our past still affected me. He said he wanted me to forgive myself, too, so I could move on, be happy.

That night still brings tears to my eyes. When I walked out of the restaurant, I felt lifted, carried on a cloud of peace and lightness. Bob had been so generous in his forgiveness that it allowed me to forgive myself. In doing so, I was also able to let go of the pain I carried, accept the past, accept myself.

A year and a half later, Bob passed away. I hadn’t known he was sick—I don’t know if he knew he was sick. It wasn’t until four years after his death that I heard, when someone reached out to me on Facebook. The news hit me hard, and even though I was saddened, it accentuated the gift that he’d given me. And to this day, I am so grateful that we talked while we still had the chance.

The burden we carry when we don’t forgive—either ourselves, or others—can be so hard to put down. But when we do, we give a priceless, precious gift. And if we don’t take the opportunity to both give (and receive) that gift, then we might never feel the peace and joy that is meant for us.

And so I invite you, in this crazy time of holiday prep and party-planning and present-buying, to pause and reflect. Sometimes, the greatest gift you can ever give is free, and it comes from the heart.

Who in your life needs the gift of forgiveness from you? Or, who do you need it from?

Or do you simply need to forgive yourself?

This holiday season, however you’re celebrating, I hope you find peace, light, and hope. You deserve all that, and more.

Go out and shine.  

By |December 4th, 2017|Uncategorized|0 Comments

Magical Doorman of Building 222

Back when my kids were in preschool – we were always late for preschool – we used to walk (well, run) the same way every day.

One morning, I was more stressed than usual. My head was down, my brow furrowed. I’m sure it looked like I was pushing a Mack truck instead of a small child. I was just dreading the day ahead of me, when I heard, “Have a great day!”

I turned, looking for who that was for. Then I saw the doorman from building 222, and he was talking to me.

I shouldn’t have been surprised. Every day when we walked by, he’d call out to us, “Hello! Have a great day.” But when I saw that his “hello” was meant for me, something inside me softened. 

Photo by Daryan Shamkhali on Unsplash

“Thank you,” I said. 

On the rest of the walk, I questioned myself. Why was I carrying this heavy weight around? What if I could have a great day? How can I make that happen? By the time we got to school, my energy had done a total 180.

That stress I was dragging around? It was so unnecessary, yet I hadn’t realized it until the doorman reached out to me.

The next morning, I had to say something. We stopped at building 222, and I said to him, “I want to thank you. You’re are always so kind, even though we don’t even live in your building. And yesterday, when I was so stressed, you lightened up my whole day. You’re so good at what you do, and I really appreciate it.”

He beamed. “Thank you,” he said.

The next day, we walked by again, and this time a different doorman was on duty. He was standing back in the lobby, but when he saw me, he ran out and said, “Good morning, ma’am! I hope you have a great day!”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Either he was this friendly to everyone, or the regular doorman had told him what I’d said. He must have even described me – “She’s blonde, got two small kids, might look really flustered.”

I know it’s small, but that one gesture of a smile, a “have a nice day” can really turn someone’s state of being around.

As you go through today, I invite you to be that doorman for someone else, and lighten their whole day. Let them know you’re thinking about them, that you care. Or, if you’re running on empty, like I was that one morning, then let me say from my heart to yours: “Hello! I hope you have a great day!”

Go out this Thanksgiving and shine.

By |November 21st, 2017|Uncategorized|0 Comments

5 Lessons from Kilimanjaro (#3 will surprise you)

For 25 years now, climbing Mount Kilimanjaro has been on my bucket list. And finally, a couple weeks ago, I did it.

And along the way, with my two sisters, our guide Robert, assistant guide, cook, and twelve porters from Kandoo Adventures (yes, 12), I learned a thing or two about what it takes to climb Kilimanjaro.

Here they are:

  1. Go slow. “Polepole” – that means “slow” in Swahili, and that was our rallying cry. And we meant it. We might’ve been the slowest hikers there, being passed left and right, but I didn’t care. I’m told that slower you go, the better your chance of success, because you have more time to acclimate to the altitude.

Slow, small steps will get you to the top. (The tortoise and the hair, right?) As long as you’re moving forward, you’ll get where you’re going.

And after the first few bathroom stops, where Karin and Isabel and I would stand around chatting, our guide said, “You need to take shorter breaks. This is taking you longer not because we’re moving slowly, but because your breaks are too long.”

Lesson #1: Go slow, but don’t stop.

2. Everything will pass. The saying “This too shall pass” took on a whole new meaning up there. You have a headache? It’ll pass. You have to throw up? It’ll pass. Your feet are freezing? Every sensation, no matter how uncomfortable, is temporary. It rained a few times, and Robert shrugged and said “We’ll be dry later.” No matter what happened, if you just waited it out, either the circumstances or your feelings about them would change.

Lesson #2: Don’t get too attached to what’s happening. It’ll pass.

3. Passion will prevail. On the sixth day, Robert came into our tent to give us a briefing.

We’d barely touched our dinners, and he knew it. “You’re too nervous,” he said. “You just have to relax. Passion is what will get you to the summit. You’ve already come 70%. Now we have the last 30% to go. Your mind is what will make the difference. If you believe it, and have fun with it, it will work. And if you don’t, then that will stop you.”

There was a lot of time for thinking while we hiked, which means there was a lot of time for self-doubt to creep in. So I used the Mindset Reset process constantly. What do I have? What do I need to believe to make this happen? I used affirmations, especially on Summit Day – literally for nine hours, I repeated “I am healthy, I am strong, I can endure,” remembering those studies about how repeated self-talk is proven to help athletes go further.  That positivity helped keep my confidence – and my passion – alive.

Lesson #3: At the end of the day, your passion will drive you to your destination.

4. Break it down into milestones. This one really saved me on the last leg, because it was so steep. It was a nine-hour hike that night, so I broke it down by time. At 1am, I just needed to make it to 2am. Then just till 4. The sun was supposed to come out at 6am (it didn’t, but it was enough to get me there). Then 7am, and by then we reached that first sign. From there, I could see the final sign in the distance, and that was all I needed to go those last few hundred yards. We’d done it.

Lesson #4: Everything can be broken into smaller steps. And you are always capable of small steps.

5. Look back at your success. Looking at the trail ahead, winding up this enormous mountain? Yeah, that was pretty daunting. So I often looked back to our basecamp, and it would look so miniscule it was hard to believe. Every time, that made me realize, “Wow, I’ve come so far already. I can keep going.” It was empowering to see how far we’d come – even while going polepole.

#5: Draw strength from your past.

There they are: the five truths that Mount Kilimanjaro taught me. It’s amazing how simple they really are. But simple steps, taken over and over again, will get you to the most mind-blowing heights.

Whatever mountain you’re climbing – in business, or in relationships, or a personal challenge – just keep putting one foot in front of the other, as slowly as you need to. Look for that next milestone. Remember that everything you’re struggling with will pass. And let passion be your guide.

Go out and shine.

By |November 6th, 2017|Uncategorized|0 Comments

That Time My Plane Almost Crashed..

Back when I was on One Life to Live, I flew back and forth from NY to LA every week. (I know, it was a little insane.) I flew so often that I didn’t even tell my family and friends I was traveling. But one time, when I was coming into New York on the red eye, I learned a valuable lesson about complacency.

It started off fine. I was psyched because I had three seats, so I was all spread out, ready to cozy up and actually get some sleep. About three hours in, though, the plane began to shake. I jerked awake, and out the window I could see these flashing lights. Sirens blared and then stopped, but the silence was ominous. Everybody was looking around, wide-eyed, gripping their armrests or their rosaries or their lovers’ hands. 

“Oh my god, the plane’s on fire,” cried someone from across the aisle. Some people started crying; most just looked around terrified, helpless, while the plane jolted along, one of its wings on fire.

After an eternity, a flight attendant made her way down the aisle, acting surprisingly casual. “We had an engine failure,” she said, “but we’ve rerouted it, and should be okay from here on out.”

I didn’t sleep the rest of the flight. Instead, I looked out the window, and every city that passed below, I thought Why don’t we land there? What about there? That looks safe…all those safe people on the ground… I had a lot of time to think, and some things that went through my head were, Is this really my time to go? I had a lot of psychic friends, and I wondered (as I now remember with a laugh), How come nobody told me this is how it ends?

When we finally landed in NYC, the pilot said “I apologize…in my thirty years of flying, I’ve never had that happen. For those of you who saw the little bit of fire, I’m very sorry. We have multiple engines, so we were able to fly the rest of the way without the one that failed.”

When we deplaned, I wanted to collapse and kiss the ground. Instead, I went straight to the nearest pay phone and called my mom. She hadn’t even known I was flying that night, so you can imagine her surprise when I started babbling about how I loved her and missed her.

It was one of those extreme moments that makes you think, why do we wait for something alarming to happen, before we really appreciate life?

That night, I felt absolutely grateful for everything in my life. My friends, my family, my job – I just wanted to call everyone and tell them I love them. Everything, big and small, felt like such a gift.

And I did go around telling people that, for a while. But then life took over again, and sadly, I fell away from that epic appreciation of everything. So sometimes I think of that story, and I remember the intensity of that feeling. Sometimes the intensity comes back a little; other times I have to pull it in, step into that gratitude.

What if we went every day, seeing everything and everyone as a gift?

Who would you call just to say I love you?

What would you do?

Go out and shine.


By |October 23rd, 2017|Uncategorized|0 Comments

What Mask Are You Wearing?

The other day, my kids and I were looking through old Halloween costumes, trying to find some inspiration for this year. We tried on old dresses, old hats, old masks. And it reminded me of a time when I put on a mask, and learned something about who I was.

In grade school, I was always the good girl. I got straight A’s, I was involved in different clubs, I never spoke out of turn. Teachers always put the “trouble” kids next to me, because I was so quiet and rule-abiding, in the hopes that they would adapt to me (not the other way around).

In eighth grade, as Halloween approached, I came up with a pretty crazy (for me) idea: I was going to be a biker chick. You know, a bad girl.
I borrowed clothes from friends. Spandex, leather jacket, high heels, flashy make-up (a friend came over early that day to apply it, since I had no idea how). And I’ll never forget that moment, Halloween morning, when I walked in. Like in slow-motion, everyone turned, their mouths hanging open. “Oh my god.” “Is that Sonia?” 

At least, that’s how I remember it.

I wasn’t the quiet good kid anymore. I was a totally new person for a day. Heads turned, and I liked it. Today I joke that that day was a turning point for me, where I realized that I wanted to be bold, and daring, and seen.

Honestly, that probably led to my love of acting, even if that didn’t manifest for years to come. It wasn’t until college that I really decided to focus on it, but I think there are moments in our past where our true passions come out of hiding. I tried on a new mask, and it turned out to be a part of me that I didn’t know existed.

What about you? What mask do you want to put on? If you could step into a different facet of yourself, what would that look like? Who would you be?

Or maybe the inverse applies more to you. Is there a mask you’re wearing now, that you want to take off? What does the real you look like?

If you could step into a different part of yourself for Halloween, what would it be?

Go out and shine.

By |October 2nd, 2017|Uncategorized|0 Comments

How to Beat Performance Anxiety 

For years, I’ve wanted to climb Kilimanjaro.

I love hiking. I grew up doing it with my mom and sisters. Isabel and I climbed Mount Whitney, which is the highest peak in the continental US, and my mom and I climbed Mount Washington, which is the highest on the eastern seaboard. She and I also climbed the two highest mountains in Norway. Basically, if there’s a peak, I want to climb it.

But I’ve never done any of the really big ones. So this year, for my birthday, I decided to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro.

Stephen said I could go, as long as he didn’t have to. So I rallied my sisters, one of whom has always wanted to do it, and one of whom is reluctant (although optimistic – she was the first person to buy boots and a backpack).

As I began preparing, reading books, studying the trails – we’re going to do the longest one – I started to get scared. I was learning that the trail isn’t what gets people, but the altitude. I started to worry. What if I can’t make it? What if the altitude is too much for me?

Mt Whitney was high, at 15,000 feet, and most of the time, I was fine. But it was chilly, and at around 12,000 feet, I started jumping up and down, trying to warm up, and within thirty seconds I was flat on my back, passed out.

One night a few weeks ago, I told Stephen how nervous I was. “I’m so excited to do this,” I said, “but if I don’t make it to the top, I’m going to be so crushed.”

And he turned to me and said, “Why? If you don’t make it, you just do it again another time.”

It was so simple, yet so true. It hadn’t even occurred to me – it’s not like it’s easy to get to Tanzania. But if I wanted to, I could take a second shot at it. Or third, or fourth.

And isn’t that true about everything outside our comfort zone? We can always do it again if it doesn’t work out. You fall, you get back up. You try again.

That simple comment opened up a door for me. It felt like light and fresh air flooding in to a cramped, dinghy room. Where before I felt daunted and afraid, now I see it differently. I can have as many chances as I need.

So I’ve got 3 week to go!!  I’m preparing. Stacking the deck in my favor. Doing everything I can to ready myself for the altitude and for the rigors of the climb. I’m visualizing. I have every intention of making it to the peak of that mountain, getting that photo of the top of the world.

And if I don’t, I’ll just try it again. Until I make it.

What about you? What’s something that scares you, that you really, really want?

What would happen if you thought about it differently? If you thought you couldn’t fail?

How does it feel, to know you have the freedom to try again?

So take a leap, and fly!!

By |September 20th, 2017|Uncategorized|0 Comments

The Simple Reminder You Need to Hear

I am struggling to rally some excitement around fall.

I know, that’s blasphemous. Pumpkin spice! Sweater weather! Autumn leaves! It’s such a gorgeous time, especially in New York City, and it’s so many people’s favorite time of year. But I gotta be honest – I always feel a little sad when summer’s ending.

It’s because summer is so free. We don’t go to bed on time; we sleep late. We still work, but the schedule is a free-for-all. I love warm East Coast nights, late-night walks in the park, t shirts and shorts. We take trips, we spend time together laughing and moving and just enjoying each other. Summer represents fun, easy, freedom.

Every year around now, I look ahead to fall, and I see the return to routine, strict schedules, fights around bedtime, trying not to be late. It feels rigid, stressful, like the antithesis of freedom.

But of course, I have a choice about what perspective to take. So I’ve made a conscious effort to shift my mindset away from what I’ll be losing, and toward what I’m gaining. And honestly, there’s a ton of stuff happening this fall that I’d be insane not to look forward to.

For instance, I just booked a lifelong dream trip – to climb Kilimanjaro with my two sisters. How amazing is that? And we’re relaunching my website next month, so look out for new products and events. I’ve redone my keynote, and I’m ready to go out and speak more. I’m excited about my kids’ classes – they have great teachers this year – and about going out to cheer at their baseball and volleyball games.

When I first moved to L.A., I thought I’d come to an endless summer paradise. Sunny all the time, hardly any rain, never really cold. The seasons were barely distinguishable. Perfect for me, right? But after a year of one day turning into the next, each month the same as the last, it started to feel exactly the same. I missed the slow turn of summer into fall and spring into summer.

Seasons are nature’s way of reminding us to embrace change. There’s an adventure in change, even if it’s just the leaves turning color, or a lifestyle shift. It can be unsettling, because it’s new and unknown. But that’s the beauty of life – surprise. Change. Adventure, big or small. Life is full of beginnings and endings. And while endings are often sad, I can choose to be grateful for the easygoing, free-spirited summer I had, and also ready for another season of growth and experiences.

What does this change in seasons mean for you?

What’s beginning in your life, this fall? How will you meet it?

By |September 5th, 2017|Uncategorized|0 Comments