Invitations and Intimidations
70 degrees on Christmas Day? How dare the universe.
There was so much angst, at least in our house, about the KC weather leading up the 25th.
"Bring clothes to play pickleball in the driveway," was the text from an extended family member that sparked another round of "when was the last time we had a white Christmas" outrage.
I'm being a bit dramatic, there was no actual outrage, but we were all pleasantly surprised to wake up to a hovering, immovable, thick blanket of fog that made Christmas feel like, well, Christmas.
And kept those 70's for the snow birds in Florida.
At one point late in the afternoon, after cinnamon rolls and many varieties of casseroles were consumed, we wandered into the woods for a bit to walk.
I've been carrying my old camera around again the last week. As work stuff slowed, I did too. And at this point in the year, the camera gets untangled from the bin that holds charging cables and random cords and maybe even a Redbox DVD that I didn't return before they went extinct.
As we walked in the woods, around a pond, and back, I filled up the SD card with a black and white fury of shots, trying to dial in the shutter speed and manual settings, the way my dad does. Not settling for the automatic settings, to win some contest no one but me knows about.
Most of the shots were 💩.
Washed out.
Hella dark.
Blurry.
But I kept tinkering. Breathing. Walking. Staying present. Trying.
As we headed back towards the home hosting our family gathering, we headed back into this clearing.
A dimly lit trail, illuminating our path, covered by these two tall trees, who were simultaneously intimidating us and inviting us in.
Stay out.
Come in.
Go around.
Come through.
Turn back.
Keep going.
"I'm obsessed with the fog," I muttered as I snapped this shot.
Its backdrop the perfect metaphor for my own work life in 2025.
In many ways, the best year the business has ever had.
In many other ways, the hardest year, full of recurring tough decisions, the business has ever had.
In still yet many other ways, a stunning slate of invitations and intimidations for my own growth.
To get clear.
To get focused.
To get sharper.
To look in the mirror.
To dance with fear.
To not turn and run.
To embrace my avoidance instead of avoid it.
To slow, settle, and listen to my own intuition.
To learn how to trust myself.
To learn how to trust others.
To grow in curiosity, compassion, clarity, and consistency.
The fog hovered a lot this year.
But the trees kept growing.
Inviting and intimidating me to...
Stay out.
Come in.
Go around.
Come through.
Turn back.
Keep going.
Grateful that, for the most part, and on most days, I kept tinkering. Breathing. Walking. Staying present. Trying.
