Guten Tag, Reader,

You may have noticed that last week’s letter was out of rhythm. I didn’t until this morning when I woke up in a hotel room south of Provo, UT. For the last few weeks, I have felt fragmented—some parts of me already in La Paz, MX, some parts somewhere on the road, and the remaining parts struggling to keep things together in the present. Today’s letter will bring us back on schedule. How fitting that it is about living on your own timeline.

“….then I will do what I want to do,” said my dental hygienist with a sigh in her eyes.

I had asked her how her summer was, and she had rattled off all the things she had done because it's what her family likes to do.

Once her youngest was out of high school, she would get to spend her summer by the lake again, she said. “That’s how it is, isn’t it?”

Well, I don’t know how it is to have kids, but I have heard all kinds of timelines for when women get to do what they want:

• when her kids are in school
• out of school
• through school
• through college
• when she’s retired
• when her husband is retired
• when she’s married
• when she’s divorced
• when she no longer has to care for her parents and/or parents in law
• when she inherits
• when the world feels sane again
• …

What’s your timeline? Who or what are you waiting for before you can do what you want?

Perhaps you’ve forgotten what you even want to do?

You are not alone.

I, too, was once so concerned with someone else’s well-being that I had forgotten what I needed to be well, not just physically and emotionally, but spiritually.

I was shocked when I realized I had put my joy on hold and had handed over responsibility for my happiness to my husband.

Just like my mother.

“If only I had had the right husband…,” was her most frequently used phrase in her later years.

I wanted my most frequently used phrase to be more interesting than that, so I made a decision to find my joy.

I went to the forest, the ski slopes, the writing class, and other places I can’t remember now because they were not where joy was waiting for my return.

I don’t have any misgivings about the joyless times. Without them, I wouldn’t be so passionate about you finding (and making) your own joy.

On your own timeline.

Not your partner’s, children’s, and definitely not your boss’s.

I know. The objections are already piling up in your head. I bet “Selfish!” is one of them.

Let me assure you: joy isn’t selfish. It’s the oxygen that flows from the mask you must put on first.

Joy is waiting on the Wild Side.

My colleague Angie and I have created an experience that reintroduces participants to their Wild Side. Joy is waiting there for your return.

• It will show up as laughter echoing from the canyon walls.
• As quiet moments with eyes, ears, hearts wide open.
• As one hand, reaching out for support, and finding another to give it.

Come join us next summer at the Gates of Lodore. Four of ten spots remain open for women who are curious about what else might be out there for them.

What if YOUR time is NOW?

​Learn more here or reply to this email with any questions, concerns, or needs for permission slips.

Tell me:

I will see you back here in two weeks. If you liked this letter, please forward it to a friend.

Always on your side, truly,

​

p.s. If you found something valuable in today's letter, why not buy me a coffee? I am keeping my writing AI-free, which means a lot of creativity goes into it. You can leave a tip for me here.