My Lesson on New Beginnings

I had taken some time away from my business. Not intentionally. Just life “lifing”. My last blog post was December of 2024…WOW! And I didn’t even realize I was away for so long, but I was. No blogging, no business interactions aside from my 9-5…nothing. Lost in an abyss of responsibilities, you know, adulting. The job responsibility, the marriage responsibility, the parent responsibility, the friend and sibling responsibility, the paying bills responsibility…the never-ending cycle of caring for everything and everyone but me. My light dimmed and I didn’t know how to get that good old spark back. My husband and I were so caught up in the day-to-day humdrum that we forgot to live the lives we were given. We had taken a quick getaway this past October and it was great but not enough. Now we normally don’t take vacation time so close together, but I felt so stuck in what I was feeling that I didn’t care; we were going somewhere again and soon. So, I decided to book us a cruise to the Bahamas and surprise my husband for Christmas. We just returned yesterday. This trip was transformational for me. I had more than an experience; I had an encounter.

There were a few days during this cruise that I experienced four distinct, peaceful, and surreal moments that left an impression in me so deeply that I will never forget them. I was transformed. The first moment was when I was in the ocean in knee-high water. The water was crystal clear, and I could see Bar Jacks swimming below me. Then one came up to me, then three, and in the next moment…five were swimming around me. There was something deeply grounding about standing in water so clear I could see the geometry of light dancing on sand while creatures glided around me. It made everyday life feel smaller but in a good way. I had what I’d call a thin-veil moment. There I was standing in warm water that looked like someone melted a gemstone…the sun was painting and moving lace on sand…and these silver creatures glided around me like quiet guardians. No engines. No notifications. Just breath and light. My brain went from task mode into awe. And awe does something powerful…it slows time and softens edges. It made me feel small in a way that was comforting instead of shrinking. The caustics of the water made me feel like I was standing in living liquid glass. It felt surreal…my eyes were processing. This was sensory minimalism…my brain went quiet. I was fully present in the moment.

The next one was when we went to a dolphin cove where we able to touch and interact with these beautiful, magnificent creatures. I was so nervous because I had never been in the presence of any marine life as large as these. But as he swam up to me, my brain shifted from nervousness to calm. My nervous system recalibrated again, the unknown became an embodied experience. I was in disbelief. It was awe mixed with accomplishment. My brain registered safety and wonder at the same time, and that combination created a deep memory encoding. I just felt love and a sense of belonging. It felt so ancestral. Long before today’s concrete and calendars, humans read wind, watched animals, and moved with seasons. Our nervous systems were shaped in forests, along coasts, and under open sky. And there was something deeply regulating when my eyes met the dolphin’s eyes: there was respect in that moment, not dominance. It wasn’t accidental…it was recognition. No performance. No transaction. Just awareness meeting awareness.

The other two experiences I had took place on the balcony of our stateroom and they were two very distinct yet intertwined moments. As I gazed at the vastness of the ocean while we were at sea, I was awestruck (the pic above was my view from the balcony). I had this strong desire to open my Bible app, and I began reading Genesis 1 & 2. I read about waters being gathered and light separating from darkness. I connected more deeply to the same Scriptures I had read many times throughout my life; it was way deeper this time. I felt small again but in a good way, a humbling way. The next day while I sat on the same balcony, I started thinking about the Transatlantic Slave Trade. How my ancestors were chained at the bottom of ships, many of them who died in transit and their bodies thrown overboard and discarded like trash. Those same bodies that still rest at the bottom of the same ocean I’m sailing on. I thought about the pain they must have endured taking that voyage though the Middle Passage while wondering if we were sailing along the same route in that moment. It was very humbling, heartbreaking, and sobering all at the same time. For me, this wasn’t just a small experience; it was sacred territory.

I stood on the balcony over the Atlantic, reading while floating above an ocean that still holds both creation and catastrophe. This wasn’t a coincidence. It was convergence. This ocean was not just turquoise and sunlit caustics, and it doesn’t just carry cruise ships and sunlight. I found myself connecting with the creation of it while also realizing it’s also a graveyard. I stood there feeling awe and grief at the same time…a spiritual depth I’ve never experienced before. I’ve taken a couple of cruises in the past, but I was more concerned with the excitement of the parties, food and shopping then, but not this time. This time I experienced vastness, creation, ancestral memory, beauty, sorrow, and reverence…all in the same place. I wasn’t just sightseeing; I was bearing witness. There was something profoundly humbling about realizing that the same ocean that terrified and consumed also sustains and glows and holds life. The same waters that carried chains now carry healing. The same horizon that once meant terror now holds freedom. And I stood in that tension instead of avoiding it. It made sense that Genesis would hit differently in this moment…”In the beginning…the Spirit moved over the face of the waters”. These waters. And I was above it, alive, reading. There is something beautiful about that ancestral arc. I felt an ancestral connection not in fantasy, but in historical awareness. I learned that grief and reverence can coexist in joy and beauty. I was not only sailing over a site of suffering. I was sailing as evidence of survival. It was sobering, sacred, and full of strength. I felt the weight of what was lost and the miracle of what survived. I am not chained. I am not erased. I am here. I felt steady in my core. And in one’s core is where breath anchors, posture lifts, boundaries strengthen, and purpose clarifies.

Something shifted in me…

I’m honored to share this life-evolving experience with you because I learned that we all can realign with our purpose no matter how long we’ve been away from it. Yes, I was out of my norm during this time, and when you take a chance to get out of your normal routine and you zoom out far enough, trivial things fall away. And what remains is this declaration: I’m here on purpose. You are here on purpose. Not frantic purpose. Not performative purpose, but steady purpose. And that’s not random. This cruise didn’t add something new to me; it revealed something that was already there. That said, everything you need is already within you. You are not limited by fear or defined by history. You are small in the face of vastness in a connected way. Here’s how you can find your core: find your posture, one that is not performative and let it be an ‘inheritance meeting realization’ moment. Stand erect with your feet planted, spine long, shoulders relaxed but open, and your chin level. Erect and straight is what happens when the core is engaged. It’s like that feeling someone has when they walk into a room and know they belong in that room, in that world…on that ocean. Stand IN yourself. If you say to yourself, “I can do anything”, allow those words to come from stillness, not adrenaline. That makes that statement sustainable. “Hustle” energy turns to anchored energy, the kind that says, “I can teach”, “I can build”, “I can create”, “I can endure”, “I can expand” without losing oneself. Let this strength mature in you instead of rushing it. You don’t need a cruise nor a balcony to access it…all you need is stillness. You can find stillness while taking a walk, sitting in the early part of the morning on a local beach, in an empty library, or the quiet corners of a nearby park. Even sitting in your car or in a small room.

This is your season for new beginnings. Hey, this is not hype; this is alignment. Find your rhythm because rhythms build futures. Begin with one thing you’ve wanted to do: write a few pages of that book, move your body for 10 minutes, sketch out that new business you’ve been wanting to start, pick up that novel you’ve been wanting to read – spend 30 minutes exploring one path or start with just 5 minutes. Procrastination often isn’t laziness. It’s energy without direction. Your purpose doesn’t demand chaos, it asks for movement. This is not about reinventing your life overnight. That daily movement, daily thoughtfulness, or daily creative touch is sustainable purpose. And give your new beginning a name. Mine is the title of this blog: The Time Is Now. This isn’t a motivational poster or sticky note for me to read every day – been there, done that – it’s a verdict! So yes, give it a name and put whatever you name it into practice. Keep in mind that this will not be an “I’m going to overhaul my life” or “I’m going to launch three businesses this month” or “I’m going to become a fitness icon by spring” type of thing. This is a measured path and should look more like, “I’ll do five minutes today, and five minutes tomorrow”, not a massive overhaul but a faithful declaration.

Acknowledge if you’ve had any thoughts that stopped you from doing that one thing and take some time and identify them. Ask yourself, “Was I overwhelmed?”, “Was I afraid to mess up?”, “Was life just ‘lifing’ and my dreams moved to the backburner?” Maybe you felt you weren’t good enough or smart enough. These were questions and thoughts I had; maybe they sound familiar to you and maybe not. But whatever your thoughts or concerns were that put you on hiatus for a minute, remember this: fire is just a spark, but purpose is a pilot light. I was waiting for that spark or motivation to return, but that’s not what I needed. I needed something steady because sustainable building runs on a steady flame. I needed purpose. And here’s the beautiful shift: you will no longer operate from spark energy but from grounded core strength. You have it in you. Take this new energy even a little bit further: give your new core strength a color. Mine is “Blue Core” because it reminds me of that beautiful ocean full of life and history I saw every morning from that balcony.

Now here’s our simple blueprint for this week: Today five minutes, tomorrow five minutes, and keep it going and growing. That’s transformation without drama. Keep standing erect. Keep breathing deep. Keep moving small and consistent. Whatever you color your new beginning isn’t loud…it’s steady. For me it’s Blue Core/The Time is Now. That’s it. A few words. Forward motion. Nothing dramatic. Just an intentional choice. Go begin. Because you can.

Patricia