November

Gratitude for the Journey

Reflecting on November, I find myself sitting with gratitude—not just for the good things, but for the entire journey, including the parts that brought real difficulty and pain. This kind of gratitude isn't about toxic positivity or pretending hardship wasn't hard. It's about recognizing that everything—the losses, the "failures," the detours—has shaped who I am today.

Over the past year and a half, I've experienced profound loss—my brother in May 2024, my father in January 2025, and my mother in March 2025. When I look back over the years and consider the relationships that ended, the promotions I didn't get, the jobs I wasn't chosen for during my corporate years and beyond—the so-called "failures" that felt devastating at the time—I could easily focus on what didn't work out. But here's what I've learned: all of these experiences, painful as they were, have brought me to this exact point in my life.

They've shaped where I am emotionally, where I live physically, and the people I'm in relationships with both personally and professionally. Without those redirects and losses, I wouldn't be doing this work. I wouldn't have the relationships I have now, including the one with myself. I wouldn't be standing exactly where I'm meant to stand.

This isn't about being glad those things happened—grief is still grief, and loss is still loss. But there's a deep gratitude I discovered for the way life has unfolded, even when it unfolded in ways I didn't choose or want. The journey, with all its difficulty, has been necessary.

Here are some ways to practice gratitude for your whole journey:

• Acknowledge both the joy and the pain - Gratitude doesn't require you to minimize what was hard; it asks you to see how it all contributed

• Look for unexpected gifts - Notice what emerged from the difficult times that wouldn't have come any other way

• Honor the redirects - Those closed doors and "failures" may have pointed you toward something truer

• Trust the timing - What feels wrong in the moment may prove necessary from a longer view

  
  

Your practical takeaway: Try the "Whole Journey Gratitude Practice." List three difficult experiences from your life. For each one, ask: "What did this teach me?" "Who did I become because of this?" "What am I grateful for now that emerged from this difficulty?" This isn't about justifying pain, but about finding meaning in your full story.

Brief Updates:

Our November 12th women's group session was wonderful, with organic conversation, deep support, and meaningful sharing. Thank you to everyone who provided input on our December date—your feedback helped us plan this special year-end gathering. I continue to be grateful for this community we're building together.

Special Year-End Session: Wednesday, December 17th at 4 PM ET

Topic: Looking Back, Moving Forward - A Year-End Reflection

We'll reflect on the past year to see how we've grown, identify themes and patterns, and set intentions as we move into 2026. This is a perfect session to join if you've been considering the group—year-end is an ideal time to begin this kind of reflective work together.

Closing Reflection

As we move into December and the weather grows colder, my waterfront runs and beach outings have taken on a different quality. The chill in the air is sharp, sometimes biting, yet it makes me all the more appreciative of the warmth and glow of the sun when it breaks through. On the coldest mornings, that sunlight feels like a gift I might have taken for granted or even shunned in warmer months.

This seasonal shift reminds me that contrast helps us see what we have. The cold makes the warmth precious. The darkness makes the light meaningful. The losses make the connections sacred. Each season—each experience—offers something, even when what it offers is discomfort or grief.

I've learned that I can be fully present to whatever is here: the beauty of a gray November morning, the ache of missing someone, the unexpected joy of connection, the gratitude for a difficult path that brought me exactly where I needed to be. Presence doesn't require perfection. It just requires showing up to what is.

What difficult parts of your journey are you learning to hold with gratitude? What has your pain taught you or redirected you toward? How might your whole story—not just the highlight reel—be worthy of appreciation?

To live in this world you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go. — Mary Oliver