The other day, I found myself spiraling.

Atlas is only in school a few hours a week now. We’d hoped for more structure, more space—but the other program just wasn’t the right fit. And choosing what was best for him meant letting go of what I had envisioned for me.

So now he’s home more, and while I adore this time with him, it’s also real. It’s real hard. I get interrupted 47 times before I can finish an email. Work moves MUCH slower. Launches take longer. I feel stretched—and sometimes resentful. Projects start and stop. I forget where I left off.

There was a moment last week when I stood in the kitchen with tears welling up in my eyes, thinking to myself:

“This is not how it was supposed to go.”

We desperately needed an "attitude adjustment", so we packed our backpacks and went hiking instead.
Out to Tumalo Falls.
Out to the trees.
Out to the water and the wind.

My mom joined us spontaneously. Atlas built pine straw boats next to the creek. We climbed. We laughed. We ate a bunch of chocolate. We watched the waterfall from the very top. And just like that—I could breathe again.

Not because anything changed.
But because I chose differently.

There's a Native American parablecalled Two Wolves, I often come back to it, especially in seasons like this. I'll share it here because it is a beautiful reminder of our ability to choose our reality. It goes like this:

“An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life.

‘A fight is going on inside me,’ he said to the boy. ‘It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves.’

‘One is evil – he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.’

‘The other is good – he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith.’

‘This same fight is going on inside you – and inside every other person, too.’

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather: ‘Which wolf will win?’

The old Cherokee simply replied, ‘The one you feed.’”

What Are You Feeding?

That parable lands differently when you're in a season where nothing feels easy.

When the inbox is full.
When your child needs you constantly.
When your work, your joy, and your own nervous system feel stretched to their edges.

But even when we can’t control the circumstances—we can choose what we feed.

And that’s what I did on the trail.

I could have stayed home and fed frustration, urgency, resentment.
Instead, I fed presence.
I fed wonder.
I fed joy.

Your Turn: An Invitation to Reflect

You don’t have to hike a mountain to choose differently. You don’t have to “fix” everything before you can feel better.

But you do get to ask:

• What am I feeding today?
• What would joy look like right here, even in the imperfection?
• What would it feel like to choose presence over pressure, even for five minutes?

It’s not about ignoring the hard. It’s about remembering that we still have power inside it.

So wherever you are—in motherhood, business, burnout, or somewhere in between—know this:

A fulfilled life is not a perfect one. It’s a chosen one.

And you get to choose again, right now.

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Or come say hi on Instagram—I'm over there, feeding the good wolf most days. 😉🩵