There have been times throughout my life where my expectations around what would be a safe space did not match the reality. There were times where I expected a safe space was not in fact that safe for me and, conversely, places where I wasn’t sure I would feel belonging and I actually did. I have found I am not always a good predictor of where I will feel most welcome and included and I need to pay attention to how I feel in the situation before deciding.

I met my friend for lunch in NYC last week. I took the train in to Penn Station and then took the subway to 72nd street. My friend and I had a wonderful lunch and then I met my daughter for a quick cup of tea before heading back. I took a subway I am not that familiar with to Penn Station. When I got out of the subway, I was all turned around and ended up heading East instead of West (I never should trust my first instincts when it comes to directions). I was already running a little behind schedule and when I saw that I was heading to Fifth Ave instead of Seventh Ave, I was pretty sure I was going to miss the train. I kept going at a fast pace just in case. When I arrived at Penn Station I was “on time” but the train was already off the departures board. I missed the train. I felt angry and sad and frustrated and hopeless. I know this sounds dramatic, but it’s the truth.

There is a beautiful scene in the final episode of The Crown (*spoiler alert*) where Queen Elizabeth is contemplating resigning from the crown so that her son Prince Charles can take over. She appears to be handling this enormous decision on her own. Her husband keeps checking in to see if she wants to talk about it, but she says she is fine. There is much speculation in the country and those closest to her wondering what she will choose. She has consulted no one. Then, we as the audience, are invited into her secret world where she is contemplating her decision. Younger versions of her (played by the actresses who played the younger versions of her in the show) visit her. They remind her of her true calling; that she was meant to be the queen until the end. One of her younger selves reminds her of something Queen Mary had said. It turns out for this particular issue the answer was within her.

My daughter Gabrielle and I decided to take the dog for a walk before she travelled back to her apartment in NYC. We had just returned from a week-long family vacation in Florida. During our walk, I started making conversation (as one does) and she responded, “is it ok if I just daydream in my head now?” It reminded me of something she might have said when she was a little girl when she wanted alone time to just play with dolls or make up a story.

We are coming upon the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year, and we can feel the optimism of what is to come. Each day will begin getting longer. It is a small incremental change—each day adding a few seconds and then compounding to a few minutes until we reach the longest day of the year in June. These tiny changes add up and make a noticeable change, with sunlight lasting longer each day.

While taking a long drive with my sister, Danielle, we listened to Howard Stern interview Dolly Parton. In the interview, Dolly tells the story of how she heard Whitney Houston’s version of her song “I Will Always Love You” for the first time ever while driving in her Cadillac. When she heard the song, she was so overcome by Whitney’s voice and interpretation of the song that she had to pull off the road to listen to it. 

The other day I listened to the podcast “We Can Do Hard Things” where Glennon Doyle and Abby Wombach interview Priya Parker, the author of the Art of Gathering. If you have read my blogs and newsletters, you know that I am huge Priya fan. She is an expert on how to create more meaningful gatherings. In this podcast episode she talks about how we must focus on the math and the poetry when planning a meaningful gathering. We should ask ourselves, why am I bringing these people together? And then we need to break down the structure to support that objective. “What is the infrastructure? What’s the coordinating mechanism? What’s the math and the poetry to coordinate this community to have something that they haven’t had before.”

Anger is an emotion I am not very comfortable with. In fact, I usually try to suppress it. I dislike conflict, debate, fighting, trying to convince others to see the world the way I do. But if I am being really honest, I am feeling an intense amount of anger right now.

I recently joined a writing group. Once a week we meet virtually for an hour and a half. Our amazing teacher, Anna Guest-Jelley, selects three poems as jumping off points. After she reads a poem, we free write for eight minutes using the poem as inspiration. Then we read what we wrote out loud to the group. There is no discussion about our writing, no critique, no questions and no apologies that our work “isn’t that good”. At the start of class, our wise teacher reminds us “we are not trying to impress anyone, not even ourselves”.

I am realizing that my anxiety is here to stay. I am not going to outgrow it anytime soon. But all is not lost. There are ways I can live with my anxiety in a way that is supportive and loving.

For me my anxiety is often visceral and embodied. When I feel anxious, it’s not easy to talk myself out of it. My anxiety can be situational (e.g. getting medical test results), it can be seasonal (rainy, stormy days flare up my anxiety), it can be hormonal, (which is really *fun* in perimenopause when hormonal shifts are less predictable).

I like to think of myself as a balabusta in training. A balabusta is the yiddish word for someone who is a good homemaker. Something I would never remotely claim to be. For now, I am translating this term in the realm of the kitchen–someone who is good at feeding their family (baby steps).  I’ve always wanted to be the type of person that could cook anything at the drop of a hat. For several years I watched Ina Garten, aka The Barefoot Contessa, on the cooking channel religiously. I loved her beautiful kitchen, relaxed approach to cooking and desire to feed her Hamptons neighbors constantly.

For several years now, when I write a text, my keyboard on my phone will switch midway through from letters to numbers. For instance, instead of the word “At” it will say “A5”. It was really quite infuriating and made sending texts or emails from my phone much less efficient.

I assumed there was something wrong with the phone. On multiple occasions I called the help desk or went physically into the Genius Bar. But nothing worked. The problem even continued after I upgraded my phone last year. Once again, I called for help and nothing they suggested worked.

When working with clients, I often run up against a situation where they question a decision they made in the past that they believe negatively affected where they are now. This thinking is not only impractical (we cannot change the past) it is usually not the whole story. There is never just one decision that got you where you are right now first of all. Second of all, decisions we made in the past seem much less complicated in hindsight

My husband and I joined my daughter as she tried out mattresses for a new bed for her NYC apartment. It was hilarious watching her lie down on each mattress and assess its comfort. One was too hard, one was too soft. I teased her that she reminded me of Goldilocks minus the breaking and entering part of the story. 

But life is like Goldilocks all the time. We are always assessing our “just right” and the better we are at figuring that out, the more we can live an authentic life. 

Lately I have been heading to Starbucks before my appointment with my amazing therapist to get each of us a latte. Of course she never asked me to do this, but it brings me such joy. She has given me so much that I should be bringing her a new car each week.

One of her magical powers is encouraging me to have hard conversations. This is how it will go. I will complain about something. She will say, you should talk to them (your husband, your kid, your friend, your client) about it. I will say, ugh, no way, I can’t do that. My hands will get clammy.

Ever catch yourself playing Wordle or watching Reels as a way to distract from getting your work done? We catch ourselves after 15 minutes of going through Reels, take a breath and chuckle at our sneaky ways to avoid work and then get back to work. We reprimand ourselves because doing this is clearly not a good use of our time and clearly a distraction. However, it is much harder to spot productive procrastination—things we do that are a good use of our time, just not at that very moment.

When I was a brand new mom I was pretty much afraid to leave the house on my own. It was so daunting. What if my baby cried, was hungry, or needed a diaper change? How would I handle this?

One story from The Davis Polk Revisited program - The program welcomes back to the firm former Davis Polk lawyers who have taken a break from the legal profession and wish to return to full-time legal careers.

As I plan the logistics of Thanksgiving, opening up our table, making the grocery list, figuring out who is bringing what, I am also thinking about the emotional and spiritual dimension to our time together.

When she was ready to move on, she realized she had a niche skill which could allow her to open her own marketing agency. This seemed like the perfect next step as she looked to discover a different sort of flexibility now that she was an empty nester.