Zine

This past month, our new administration has created economic uncertainty for everyone, especially those in the nonprofit sector. Understandably, everyone is freaking the fu*k out.

The virtual workshop I ran last month with my friend and co-retreat leader Jennifer Jane Young didn’t quite go the way we expected. It was supposed to be about how to close out the final quarter of the year and flow into 2025 with grace and purpose. But the 30 attendees — a mix of nonprofit leaders and my consulting and coaching clients — had something else on their minds.

Last week, during a group session with nonprofit leaders, I asked a simple question: What’s the worst day of the year… the Tuesday after Labor Day, or the first day back after the winter holidays?

As I write this, I have been back in the states for just two days. I spent the past six months living and working remotely in Puerto Morelos, Mexico, a small fishing village midway between Cancun and Playa Del Carmen.

An old friend came to visit me here in Mexico a few weeks ago for some much needed R&R. She has spent her entire career as a dedicated nonprofit professional. Last fall, she began a new job at a large public university.

Over the past few months, I’ve been working with a client who is opening a retreat center in the Southwest. During November and December, she held three different focus groups.

I played in my first ever tennis tournament last weekend. My best friend, Andie, is an amazing player and she asked me to partner with her.

My mother is not someone who has ever moved slowly. I’m not saying she’s not thoughtful or deliberate; she just likes FAST. She can’t just be, she is compelled to do.

I am a 5’2” person. In all my years of clothes shopping and wearing, I have never once found myself within the range of “one-size-fits-all.” It may fit most, but it doesn’t work for me.

Let me be clear. This isn’t about what I learned when I went to high school… it’s about what I learned as I lived through that same four-year journey with my son, Morgan, who graduated earlier this month.

I was in San Francisco last week on a business trip, one of the first I’ve been on since Covid. All week long, as I made my way through the airport, to my hotel, and through my client organization over several days, I was reminded how much easier and more natural it is to build trust in an in-person environment.

Every spring, the same movie plays in my household: While I am buoyed by the season, feeling renewed with each blossom and warm breeze, other members of my family slowly lose their minds. 

For the past three months, I’ve been living in Puerto Morelos, Mexico, a small fishing village midway between Cancun and Playa Del Carmen. This was not my original plan.

In many professional workplaces, “knowing” is currency. It is how meaning and value are created. Figuring out what we know, how we know it, and how and when to share it, represents a significant part of many folks’ daily work life.

Your Netflix account and my Netflix account don’t look the same. We may both have access to all the same programming, but based on our demographics and past behavior, artificial intelligence (AI) is dictating how our respective home screens look and the programs that are recommended.

My friend Debbie owns a small restaurant downtown. She’s had some staffing challenges — it’s hard to find and retain quality people. Part of it is supply and demand — but there’s more going on than just that.

I went to see my doctor yesterday. Every person I encountered in the office, myself included, was wearing a mask. These days, of course, that seems appropriate. Though I felt compelled to ask her: “How long do you think everyone in a medical setting will stay masked?”

It was 2004, and I was seven months pregnant with my first child. Throughout the summer, I worked every weekend in our small backyard — digging, planting, painting.