A Porch Hang → Power Sesh

A love letter to presence, friendship, and the life I get to live

This morning, I'm back on my porch — one of my favorite rituals when the weather is nice. After the hustle and bustle of getting my kids out the door for school, I love to sit here, eat my breakfast, drink my coffee, and listen: to the birds, the neighbors, the kids playing.

Today felt extra special because it’s the start of iBike Rosemont Week. Every year, the Rosemont Dad's Club organizes a neighborhood ride: kids and parents gather at a few meeting spots and bike to school together every morning that week.

Picture a hundred joyful kids on their bikes, parents in the mix, blocking streets and watching for cars — everyone moving together like a river of joy. It brings tears to my eyes every year. So much gratitude for this community, my family, this simple, beautiful life.

I’m sitting down to write today because yesterday brought another beautiful moment I don't want to forget.

A friend and I had been trying for weeks to catch up — texting back and forth, juggling logistics, trying to find a time that worked. We finally landed on a plan: Sunday, 3 to 5 p.m., on my porch. Simple. Perfect.

But then Sunday came, and life happened. I had my son’s soccer game schedule wrong. I had to cancel. I sent my friend a voice message, feeling terrible — like a flake, like someone I don’t usually recognize myself as.

And she, in her infinite grace, just flowed with it:
“Giiiiiiirl do not worry!!”

No guilt. No hard feelings. Just love and understanding.

And then, somehow, things shifted again — the game time moved back an hour, and we found ourselves able to meet after all. She came over to my porch, and in just 45 minutes, we had the most beautiful, deep, and real conversation.

We laughed and called it a "power sesh 💪," because we really had to move mountains to make it happen. I told her about the Mom 2.0 conference I’d just attended; she opened up about her creative process.

And somewhere in that whirlwind of connection, she asked me a question I wasn’t expecting:
“What's next for you? What's your ambition?”

It surprised me how simple and clear my answer was.

“I’m here. I have it. I have the life I wanted.”

After decades of climbing the ladder, chasing the next milestone I was “supposed to” want — I’m content. Fulfilled.

I’m not stressing about the next big thing. I’m here. Soaking it in.

Ironically, one of my biggest fears when I left agency life was:
Will I lose my drive? My ambition? My fire?

And one of my biggest ah-has since then has been:
No. I’m the same person!

So why doesn’t my answer to her question scare me?

Maybe this is my “go slow to go fast” season.

Or maybe — just maybe — this is my
“go slow, live intentionally, lead with heart, and watch what happens” season.

At this time in my life, at Sunny, and in my bones:
I’m creative. I’m energized by people.
I’m motivated and driven to make an impact in the world.
And it doesn’t feel like work.

The wind chimes are singing right now as I write this, and it feels like a little nudge from the universe.

Friendship.
Community.
Moments of presence before the workday begins.

This is it.
Life isn’t always about the next thing.
Sometimes, it’s about what’s happening right in front of us.

And it’s more than enough.