I was recently asked what has stuck with me from my years of practicing acupuncture. Two things came to mind: point location and Five Element theory. But in pondering the question in the days since, I realized I failed to mention the thing that made the most lasting impression.

Somewhere, I think on a podcast, I heard something so great. Chip Conley, an author who writes and talks about midlife transitions, said that when he goes to parties, he never asks people what they do. He has a different go-to question: What are you a beginner at right now?

Late-summer days have a slowness about them. In the space between June–July possibility and September–October practicality, there’s an opportunity to reflect on the busier seasons of life. On the surface, busyness is not a problem. What tends to trip us up is how we relate to the busyness.

Across the street from where I live, there’s a park. The perimeter of the park has a walking path that’s a half-mile around. For me, it’s been a path to peace. I leave my phone at home and walk loops around the park, running experiments in half-mile chunks.

On Saturday, my dog threw up on my bed. My washing machine is too small for a queen comforter so cleaning it would require finding a laundromat, driving there, waiting for it to wash and dry, driving home, and putting it back on the bed. This wasn’t what I felt like doing with my Saturday.

Personality is not really a thing. Or at least not the thing we think it is. Most of us think our personalities are fixed, a set of permanent traits that we either celebrate or compensate for. This is a misunderstanding. Your personality is not permanent.

Two months ago I hired my first personal trainer. Working out has always been a part of my life. My tastes have shifted—there have been running years, spinning years, kickboxing years, CrossFit years—but my ability to self-motivate was pretty consistent. This changed about a year ago.

The distinction between love and fear has been coming up a lot—looking at whether clients are approaching their lives from a place of love or fear. With this on my mind, when the umpires called the score during a recent tennis tournament, I found myself contemplating the meaning of “love.”

Today is July 1. It’s a new month. A new quarter. A new half of the year. This day marks a fresh start. What activities, relationships, or habits will you nurture in the second half of 2025? What will get louder? What will you be more of? For me, I’m turning up the volume on flexibility.

To retire means to “withdraw to or from a particular place.” That place can be work but it doesn’t have to be. From which places do you want to withdraw? “Places” can be activities, relationships, locations, patterns, routines, habits, ideas, opinions, anything really.

Summer is arriving at the perfect time. International conflict, unsettling politics, and disruptive technologies are weighing heavy. Many of us are experiencing increased feelings of isolation, distrust, and hopelessness about the state of the world and our place within it. This is why summer matters.

Recently, I met a writer on the side of a highway in Rhode Island. When she asked me what I did, I said, “I’m a coach.” To which she asked, “What sports?” “Life,” I told her. I wonder, if we thought more about life that way—as a sport—would it feel more fun and fulfilling?

Believing in yourself means knowing you’re the author of your life—100% responsible for your experience, and capable of handling whatever comes your way. Believing yourself is being convinced, without inquiry, that your unconscious, auto-pilot thinking is accurate.

I’m noticing something. While the uncertain times we’re living through has caused many of us to cling to the familiar, I’m seeing an equally powerful counterforce: A deep desire for purpose, meaning, and alignment. Our brains may be wired for safety but our souls are not dead.

My clients create the agenda for their coaching sessions. This is one of several ways in which coaching is practice for taking responsibility for your experience. Some clients email me an agenda in advance. Some show up with a list. Some forget. All are okay—and an opportunity.

We’re living in uncertain times. Volatile markets. Turbulent politics. Disruptive technology. Particularly in the realm of money, many of us are tempted to hold steady. Cling to what we know. Stay on the default path. Defer big changes. This strategy is counterproductive.

There’s a saying: “We tend to over estimate what we can accomplish in a day and underestimate what we can accomplish in a year.” How about 10 years? In my experience, we tend to way underestimate what we can accomplish in a decade. Where do you want to be 10 years from now?

I started playing pickleball in 2021. It wasn’t long before most of my non-working hours were spent on the court or making plans to get on the court. For about three years, pickleball was my main source of exercise, community, and fun. Then sometime last year I stopped enjoying pickleball.

Ever hear something you’ve heard before but experience it in a whole new way? This happened to me when I came across an idea in Steve Chandler’s book Right Now. Steve says, “…most people…plan their future based on the past….what if I chose not to do that?”

“It’s fine.” “I’m fine.” “We’re fine.” How often do you say this? Things aren’t terrible and they aren’t great. They’re fine. Our default is to accept this as “life”—just the way things are. But nothing is fine. Fine is a label we give to things that are manageable yet lacking the life force we desire.