A Practice for Recalibration

I made you an audio if you’d prefer to listen here. (private link)

At the end of 2024, I realized I no longer identified as a "business coach." Not because I'd fallen out of love with the work—I still love helping people build their big business dreams. Something felt off: like a stuck gear or a slightly off-pitch guitar string. My gut was telling me to step back from the fray and find a way of working that made room for all of me.

I needed a recalibration.

If you've followed me since the early days from small-town health coach, yoga teacher and studio owner, travelling trainer and business coach, then you've noticed a non-linear career trajectory (with similar themes). But at one point in my life, I was singularly focused on my goal-oriented life trajectory: I was going to be a researcher.

My dream as a young girl was to work in a Think Tank, surrounded by people who were similarly committed to using intelligence, skill, logic, and creativity to solve the world’s most intractable problems.

Some of those intractable problems intersected with my own life these last few years, resulting in some communication gaps.

There are many reasons. A divorce. A cross-country move. Another cross-country move. A new baby. I gave you the bullet points, but not context.

My divorce was considered “high conflict,” entailing almost 7 years of frantic attempts (mine) to encourage resolution, repair, or at least a re-focus on the child involved.

As these interpersonal challenges crept further into my day-to-day life, I had to choose the kind of parent I wanted to be. The logistics of managing a complicated teaching and travel schedule as the Director and Lead Instructor of a training center proved untenable and impractical for my new life as a solo parent. My child needed my presence. So I prioritized their needs over my career.

As humans do, I adapted: I built online programs, centered my business on coaching, but in 2018 I temporarily shuttered my online business and training programs for a serious reason (stalking is real and dangerous).

Those years became a long search for a new path.

I found new forms of joy and new kinds of work: supporting mission-oriented organizations, providing fractional Co-CEO consulting for micro-enterprises, and working in the AI industry. Tech is an ideal industry for a solo parent crunching out work between school-drop off and pick-up— or at the “Toni Morrison” hours (before the light comes and the world wakes)—because the machine never sleeps.

My work in AI sparked renewed intellectual enthusiasm: paired with an equal amount of existential dread. Outsourcing my brain to the machine on the daily, along with so many others, gave me a glimpse into humanity’s trajectory.

It made me question everything (again). Yes, it is amazing and intoxicating and exciting and—if you’re obsessed with learning—the most exciting piece of technology ever to exist. But that still doesn’t answer the question: Why? To what end are we building?

To further exploit the most vulnerable?

To flatten our differences and become a homogenized summary of data points spit back to us in identical-sounding, if oddly worded, simulacra of cognition?

To collectively co-opt (read: steal) the intellectual property of every creator since the dawn of the internet age in order to re-package and sell back to us?

To outsource our most precious of human gifts —deep thinking and creativity— to a planet-destroying, water-guzzling, superpower that is the developmental equivalent of a toddler running with scissors? (a polymath MENSA-level toddler is still dangerous: arguably, more so).

Eventually, I could no longer handle the cognitive dissonance that left my nervous system wrecked and my mind restless with the implications of the tools I was helping to build.

To cope, I returned to a practice I call the 3 Rs: Reading, Releasing, and Reclaiming.

The first R: Reading

The first step is the most restorative. Reading things that move and inspire me is a genuine respite, and the more I read, the better I feel.

As I've grown older, there is less time for the reading I love most: poetry, spiritual texts, vintage knitting patterns, historical fiction, magical realism, biographies, YA sci-fi, scientific papers (I know. I’m strange).

Making reading a deliberate practice again—with a joyful rather than productive focus— improved my life immeasurably. It also served as a kind of brainwashing in the best possible way: like giving my brain a restorative slow dance in the rain.

The research backs this up.

A large study following nearly 20,000 middle-aged and older adults across 15 countries found leisure reading was prospectively associated with better health, well-being, daily functioning, lower cognitive impairment, and greater longevity. A 2024 evidence review on reading for pleasure reached the same conclusion: volitional reading is linked to meaningful gains in wellbeing alongside cognitive benefits.

The freeing part: genre matters far less than the habit. Graphic novels, children's books, home-decor magazines, vampire romances, the complete works of Vladimir Nabokov—the act of reading for pleasure carries the benefit. *Books appear to confer a particularly strong longevity advantage over newspapers and magazines, so lean toward books for the most benefit.

But the headline holds: Just read something.

The next two Rs: a dialectic within yourself

Releasing and Reclaiming work together.

Each begins with a single question:

What do I want or need to release?

What do I want or need to reclaim?

That's the whole practice. The tricky part is answering honestly. Ask the question, then let your intuitive self answer — the first thing that surfaces is usually the answer (the "why" is less important and often comes later).

After a few years of this practice, I noticed clear patterns.

Releasing, for me, usually shows up as something that drains my energy: mindless scrolling, obsessing over headlines, being less-than-present with my children, rumination, self-recrimination, complaining.

Reclaiming, for me, usually shows up as a nudge toward practices that restore or joys I’ve forgotten: a walk in the woods, my art-journal practice, morning pages, planting flowers, gratitude lists, reconnecting with a treasured friend, knitting a sweater, crafting a poem, playing the guitar. There is an untapped well of joy to be found in activities that challenge you just enough. And daily life is full of simple pleasures that oft go unnoticed and unclaimed.

There's a good reason this simple inventory works. Contemplative practices that build present-moment awareness are consistently linked to stronger emotion regulation — the capacity that lets you notice what depletes you and choose what refills you, instead of running on autopilot.

This type of self-inquiry is a virtuous circle of mutual emotional aid —self-care that is more than self-centered navel-gazing. Engaging in this type of contemplative inquiry creates the inner conditions that nourish mental health.

But it isn’t enough: if the contemplative practice is the rain, the social determinants of health are the soil. And research consistently shows that these factors far outweigh any mental health maintenance, emotional housekeeping, and self-work in action. This is an important distinction in a society that discounts the impact of its own dysfunctional systems on individuals and marginalized communities. Creating the conditions that nourish health begin at the structural and societal level. It is far too much to ask of any one individual.

Yet, the daily actions that nourish the conditions for mental health, emotional regulation, physical well-being exist in the literature and in one’s own ancestral line —if you exist, you’re living proof that your ancestors, despite all they endured, were survivors of the fittest caliber.

These practices are simple, not always accessible. That doesn’t mean they don’t matter or that we abandon those practices. For the sake of humanity, it’s time to double down on them.

Emotional regulation is violence prevention.

Social connection is addiction-prevention in practice.

Mindfulness is conflict resolution training.

And in an increasingly violent, disjointed, divided, polarized world, we need more people committed to modeling the best of humanity’s qualities: compassion, empathy, connection, creativity, care, insight.

When little girl Kellie envisioned working as a researcher in a Think Tank, this is what she thought the work would entail: humanity’s brightest and most diligent scholars, putting their heads together with care, compassion, and creativity to solve the world’s most intractable problems.

Now that I’m older, it’s clear that the initial spark of career aspiration was filtered through the rose-tinted lens of childhood: a childhood full of trauma, emotional neglect, and intellectual isolation.

Yet, the practices I’ve been drawn to over the years, the studies I’ve pursued, have been gently guiding me back to that original career aspiration.

An Inner Recalibration

I hope you’ll try the practice when next you need your own Inner Recalibration. I can't promise it will help you as much as it has helped me. But if you try it, will you let me know how it goes?

Read something.

Release something.

Reclaim something.

That's the whole practice — and it might just awaken the insight you've been too busy to hear (until now).

TL/DR

• The 3 Rs — Reading, Releasing, Reclaiming — is a simple daily practice for awakening intuition

• Reading for pleasure is linked to better well-being, cognition, and longevity.

• Releasing and Reclaiming are practices that protect and restore a connection to your own insight, skills, forgotten strengths, and resourcing practices.

• Contemplative awareness strengthens emotional regulation, resulting in better choices: for oneself and for the world.

Try the 3 Rs this week, then tell me what surfaced. I read every response.

Thanks for being here.

Kick the Productivity Addiction to Prevent Burnout

Productivity has an essential place in the world.

But in a culture as obsessed with check-offables and massive To-Do lists, productivity is becoming (dare I say) an addiction.

Letting go of the habit of overachieving is (still) my biggest personal and professional challenge. For many years, I wore the cloak of my industrious super power like a mantel of personal protection. Instead of questioning the need to keep going, to work harder, to be the best, I kept going, I worked harder, I pushed myself to be the best. I never stopped long enough to question for whom I was producing, or why I was achieving, or what happened after I achieved it. I became my own worst enemy —and my own nightmarish boss. I have pushed myself to exhaustion, overwhelm and physical breakdown more than once. Chronic conditions — health issues that have plagued me from childhood —crop up when I push past my energy limits. The body always knows when to say no.

Can you relate?

Recovering from burnout is one thing —preventing burnout is another story entirely.

I believe life gives us the lessons we need to learn in order to grow. To prevent burnout, I needed to learn the lesson of efficiency and ease: and to learn that lesson, I had to let go of my productivity addiction.

I had the opportunity to let go of my obsession to productivity when I recently lost a principal member of my team. I took a hard look at the responsibilities now resting squarely in my lap (again). After a year of delegating, streamlining and strategizing in my business(es), I felt like I was back to square one. In reality, the situation wasn’t nearly that dramatic. I was able to outsource some tasks and fit others into my weekly schedule with ease. I did have to revisit my annual intentions, now absent a significant support source.

Two significant revelations came during this process, however: first, many of the things I’d been doing (or outsourcing) no longer served my business but I was sticking with them out of my own un-investigated expectations of “good business.” Next, I was holding on to a belief that my productivity defined my worth.

I re-evaluated my responsibilities then I let some things go (my desire to be part of the conversation on every social platform), pared back on others (newsletter mailings are now less frequent), and streamlined others (grouped writing tasks into one focused day with lots of stretch breaks).

Quitting the productivity addiction looked a lot like pausing to re-envision certain elements of my business in service to continued growth.

So far, so good. The growth process unfolds over time and you may have noticed some of those internal shifts over the last couple months. You will continue to observe blossoming as the transformation unfolds, but it’s my hope that you’ll still be around for the Big Reveal.

In the meantime and as always, I’m committed to elevating, empowering, educating women in bringing more flourishing to business and life. 

Beginning with these powerful questions for times of transition of your own: whether you're quitting the productivity addiction, recovering from burnout or tackling overwhelm through strategic focus.

Answer these for more alignment and ease in business and in life:

:: Is your business reflecting your soul’s work?

My soul’s work is to transform my life experiences into lessons that light the way for other women. Everything that didn’t fit that vision in my own business got sliced.

What is your unique work in the world? Once you find that, everything that can go, does go. If you're still working another job, or building your business on the side, remain hyper-focused on the actions to truly leverage your success. No chasing butterflies —unless you’re also a lepidopterist…in which case, happy chasing! :)

:: How do you want that work to be represented?

I wanted more richness, radiance, and depth in my work with women; more insight and inspiration.

Do you want your work to represent something larger than you? Your work is meaningful —and the world needs it! Identify the shifts —internal and external—that need to accompany growth and long-term expansion. Maybe you need to strengthen your focus in service to long-term success. Perhaps you need an outside eye on your business (and big business vision) and some insight on next steps. Be honest about your needs and find the support necessary to catapult you to the next level.

:: What do you want less of (in life and business)?

This list should come easily!  

:: What do you want more of (in life and business)?

No censoring. Name it to claim it.

:: What elements of business (or life) need to shift for you to do more of your soul’s work?

Here's when the magical meets the practical. Be realistic and radiant.

:: What are you afraid of?

Fear factor dump list. Write them all down. Every fear. Worst-case scenario bonanza.

:: What are you really afraid of?

Deep down, as you wrote that list, you discovered THIS ….This is the root reason behind the above fear(s). Dig deep.

:: What is the antidote to that specific fear?

Is it …courage? connection? self-love? confidence?

How will you need to believe or behave differently to challenge this fear?

This process may lead you to change how you are approaching an aspect of your business: social media, for example. Social media represented a huge challenge for me because it felt misaligned with my yoga ethics; however, when I emphasized a sacred approach to social media emphasizing connection, empowerment and education, I was able to take my marketing (and my business growth) to the next level. Also: engaging on social media became easier and more enjoyable. Sweet bonus!

Need more? Head over to the Kula to get your daily dose of support.

xo,