
I recently opened a letter I had written to myself at a self care retreat in December, 2023. In the letter, I described what my life would look like in December, 2024. The retreat leader Emily held onto the letter then mailed it so it would hit my mailbox a year later.
My 2023 vision was that in 2024 I would get back to a regular habit of movement, I would build momentum in the business and brand, I would strengthen my relationships and I would “stack the cheddar,” as the youngsters say, in my bank account.
What I never could have anticipated was what I now have named “My Year as a Country Song.”
-My brother’s house burned.
-My sister got very ill and tragically died before they could heal her.
-My bonus mom of 50 years got a terminal diagnosis and died 2 weeks after my sister.
-My dog got sick and died.
-My son’s best friend (who is a second son to us) got in a motorcycle accident (thankfully he is on the mend).
-While steady and great client work continued, due to the massive personal disruptions in Q4, I got behind in projects and felt tremendous pressure and stress.
-The election.
There was more, but you get the picture.
My regularly drama- and tragedy-free life was suddenly filled with big, hard, grief-filled experiences.
My normal coping mechanisms were not enough to hold the pain. It was like putting a too-small cup under your coffee machine and watching scalding liquid spill all over the counter while you scramble for a towel.
By profession, I need to be a grounded and stable force for my clients, able to hold space for their dreams, ideas and fears, while keeping a rhythm and pace of action and achievement. I need to keep projects coming in the door for my talented and amazing team. This is my livelihood, and I love it with all my heart. I don’t do it as a side hustle or hobby – this is what puts food on the table and pays my kids’ college tuition.
It is also my body of work and legacy — the work I am passionate about putting into the world as a force for social change and good.
So as much as I might have wanted to put everything on pause, I couldn’t. I had to find a way to keep things moving while attending to the very real trauma I was experiencing.
This led to an epiphany a few days ago that I furiously scribbled down in my notes app and I share here. Just in case you, too, have lived a Year as a Country Song, or know someone who has.
How to keep your fire burning, despite obstacles
The cosmic principle/joke of human existence is that we have no control over external circumstances, nor the lives or actions of others.
We can hope and pray that nothing goes wrong, but it can and will, sometimes in droves.
What we can develop is an approach to challenges that keeps our internal flame of hope and inspiration alive, while we navigate the dark and scary parts of our life journey. Here are three critical things to make things better:
1. Look for the cosmic winks
You may be the kind of person who smirks at horoscopes or believes in evidence-only approaches to your life and work. Or you may be someone who sets your business calendar by the moon cycles, creates vision boards and believes in angels.
However you are wired, you have to admit: Sometimes trippy things happen that feel a bit more than just pure coincidence. For example, I have said for decades that I am an “author practitioner,” in that I don’t research and write about hypothetical topics from an academic perspective, I write about things I live, through work I do every day with clients.
About 3 months after The Widest Net came out in late 2021, I got an overwhelming download of clarity that my next book would be in the self-help genre, that it would be called Remember Who You Are: Your Nudge to Keep Going When the Universe F*cks With Your Confidence.
I decided this book would contain more of my own stories, in addition to those I typically share about my clients. For some reason, the first words I wrote for this book in late 2022 was this dedication:
“To (My kids and their besties) Jeffery, Josh, Angie, Chawa, Naasir and Savanna. For giving me a reason to face my fears, no matter how hard it gets, so you will believe me when I say I know you can get through anything.”
At that point, I had not had any deeply challenging experiences for quite a long while, but I figured that as I wrote, the stories would appear.
Then, 2024 happened.
Not only did I now have fresh stories for days (a writer’s dream?!?), but I also needed to write this book for my own survival. In writing it now, I am feeling my sadness and anxiety ease as I identify lessons that help me and others get through though times. I have rarely felt so connected to a book topic, and I am in love with everything about it.
Now that I know that I will always live the experience of the books I am writing about, I will tell you (and the cheeky universe) that the title of the next one has to be: “How to Handle Large, Unexpected Amounts of Money That Land in Your Bank Account, and the Fabulous Travel and Retirement Plans that Result from This Windfall.”
2. Lose your resistance to help
You may be the toughest, most independent person ever who revels in solving your own problems.
This is a great quality to have that has probably served you well.
But sometimes, the shit is going to hit the fan in such a way that your own need to do or fix everything yourself will cease to be an asset and will become a liability.
- Go see that therapist (I did, finally! Thanks Mya!)
- Hire that ace accountant and problem solve your way out of financial stress
- Admit you are in a toxic relationship and get out, with the help of your friends
- Hire someone to get that critical project done that you will put off until 2030 if left to your own devices
- Go pitch that investor or bank to fund your business, and stop trying to bootstrap it all yourself
I remember a few years ago when I was walking in New York with one of my clients who was an investor. He said:
“My network is mainly extremely rich people who are looking for businesses to invest in.”
“That’s funny,” I said, “My network is mainly cash-strapped entrepreneurs who are desperate for money!”
It reminded me that there is always a different way to frame the need for help:
from:“Asking for help will make we look weak.”to:“Partnering with others will make me strong.”
Play with time horizons
Remember how devastated you were in that horrible break up when your heart was shattered in a million pieces and you vowed to never date again?
Remember that time when you royally screwed up that project and you thought your career was over?
Remember that time when you were sweating at the grocery check out, praying that your card would go through so you wouldn’t have to put stuff back?
Remember that time when you were so behind in writing your book that you thought about just giving all of your money back to the publisher and saying forget it?
For some of you, these scenarios were years ago, and for some of you, they might be happening right now.
When we are in the midst of difficulty, it can feel all-consuming.
If you feel like all hope is lost, play with a time horizon. Zoom forward a year, or 5 years or 20 years. Imagine you have solved the problem, and gone on to integrate the lesson. How might your life look?
Remember other times when it felt like life was over, when in reality, this past breakdown eventually led to a tremendous breakthrough.
Even in the finality of the death of loved ones, when you do your grieving work, you will eventually find ways to let love and light in, despite the eternal pain of missing them.
I am often comforted by my friend Greg Hartle’s go-to phrase of encouragement:
I wish none of us ever had to endure loss or terrible, overwhelming situations.
But we do, and we can.
We got this.




It’s with much gratitude to you and your thoughtful, heartmending words that I also send you loads of love and light. It has been a long while since I’ve tended to wisdom filled newsletters, such as yours, and an even longer while in engaging with anyone. Feels like just trying to stay in the ring as the universe unloads blinding, grief-filled blows one after another, is all I can muster.
Your words though, at the perfect time are filling me with a glimmer of light. To through another log on the fire, to keep it going. One foot in front of the other and all that jazz.
Thank you, thank you, thank you!
It is so sad to read your story Pam, however, like you, it really helps to see the ‘glimmers’ or ‘cosmic winks’, or even quantum flirts! I have had a difficult time too, and chose to reflect and write about it too, as it really is the perspective you look at it from, which defines how it looks and feels. What will it look like in the rear view mirror, when you look back a few years later for example?
Here were my thoughts on it, back in September, when I wrote my research newsletter.
https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/nature-nurture-how-do-we-create-resilience-sheela-hobden-agene