There was a time in my life when checking email on vacation felt normal.
Working weekends felt normal.
Bringing my laptop to the hospital after having a baby felt normal.
Being available all the time felt normal.
And perhaps that’s the problem.
Sometimes unhealthy things become so familiar that we stop questioning them.
For years, I believed being responsible meant being available.
I believed productivity was a virtue.
I believed rest had to be earned.
And if I’m being honest, I think part of my identity was tied to performance.
People knew I would answer.
People knew I would deliver.
People knew they could reach me.
And because I never established boundaries, people crossed them.
Not because they were bad people.
But because that’s what people do.
We teach people how to treat us.
I can remember taking my laptop on vacation.
Checking in while I was sick.
Even bringing my laptop to the hospital after having a baby because there was a project in flight.
Looking back now, I realize that none of those things made me more valuable.
They simply reinforced the belief that I had to always be available.
That I had to always be useful.
That I had to always be doing.
Eventually, life changed.
Over the years, I managed projects, programs, and portfolios. I built a career I was proud of.
And somewhere along the way, I found myself in a position that I never really imagined.
Semi-retired.
Working fewer hours.
Financially secure.
Debt free.
Having options.
And strangely enough, something unexpected happened.
I had time.
Real time.
And I wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.
Everybody I knew was at work.
The kids were busy.
Life was moving.
And there I was with an entire day ahead of me.
What now?
What I discovered was that freedom isn’t always comfortable.
Because when you’ve spent decades being productive, your nervous system doesn’t suddenly know how to relax.
It still whispers:
Be productive.
Do something.
Check your email.
You should be doing more.
And that’s when I realized something.
Peace isn’t something we suddenly enter into.
It’s something we practice.
Rest is something we practice.
Delegation is something we practice.
Trust is something we practice.
And sometimes that practice is deeply uncomfortable.
Maybe that’s why retirement isn’t always as peaceful as people imagine.
Maybe that’s why winning the lottery doesn’t automatically make people happy.
Because circumstances change much faster than our minds do.
And our nervous systems need time to catch up.
I think many of us spend our entire lives believing:
“When I get there, I’ll finally rest.”
“When I have enough money, I’ll finally relax.”
“When I retire, I’ll finally have peace.”
But perhaps peace isn’t waiting for us somewhere in the future.
Perhaps it has to be practiced now.
Not someday.
Today.
Take the PTO.
Really take it.
Stop checking the email.
Delegate the task.
Allow your children to do things for themselves.
Allow your team to carry some of the weight.
Allow yourself to put something down.
Not because you are incapable.
Not because you no longer care.
But because no one was ever meant to carry everything.
And perhaps that’s the lesson I’m still learning.
That my worth isn’t measured by how much I accomplish.
Or how much I sacrifice.
Or how available I am.
Maybe I don’t have to earn rest.
Maybe I don’t have to justify slowing down.
Maybe I don’t have to prove anything.
Maybe I already am…
Enough.
Until next time,
Stay anchored.
⚓