The weather couldn't have been more perfect for the drive. Warm, drizzly, and somewhere around 66 degrees, with a blanket of gray clouds covering the sky. Some people might consider it a dreary day, but I have always loved this kind of weather, especially when I have the opportunity to write or create. There is something about the rain that makes me feel more alive. It seems to invite reflection, and I find myself paying attention to things I might otherwise overlook. I was o

The Sunday Pause Finding Your Footing When Life Doesn't Go as Planned Cooper Marsh, Ontario When Life Feels Overwhelming - Finding Your Footing in Stressful Situations When life feels overwhelming, it can be difficult to know where to begin or how to find your footing again. In this week's episode of The Becoming Podcast, When Life Feels Overwhelming – Finding Your Footing in Stressful Situations, we're exploring how to pause, recognize what is happening, focus on what is wit

Cooper Marsh, South Glengarry, ON Building trust in yourself, one intentional choice at a time. What would change in your life if you trusted yourself a little more? It's an interesting question because trust is something we spend a great deal of time developing in our relationships with other people. We pay attention to whether their words align with their actions, whether they follow through on their commitments, and whether we can depend on them when it matters. Trust deve

The Sunday Pause Trust Yourself & Let Go of Others' Approval Black Lake, New York How to Build Trust Within Yourself How much of your life are you holding back because you're waiting to feel confident enough, make the right decision, or know that others approve? Sometimes, the person we struggle most to trust is ourselves. Building trust in yourself doesn't mean you'll always make the right decisions or follow through on every commitment. It means learning to believe in yo

Cranberry Lake, New York There is a question that has followed me into more rooms than I care to admit. Am I good enough? It shows up in different ways, depending on where I am and what I'm doing. When I'm playing music, I wonder whether I'm good enough to stand alongside other musicians. When I'm writing, I question whether my story is worth telling, whether what I have to say is interesting enough for someone else to want to read it. When I'm presenting my coaching programs

The Sunday Pause Meet Yourself Right Where You Are Tupper Lake, New York: Goodman Mountain Begin Fully Accepting Yourself Exactly As You Are I can't tell you how many times I've looked back at a picture of myself and thought, I can't believe I wasn't happy with how I looked back then. If I could only go back, I would have enjoyed that time more. I would have been kinder to myself. Have you ever found yourself thinking: I used to take better care of myself. Why can't I seem t

Tupper Lake, New York: Goodman Mountain There are moments in our lives when something catches us off guard. Someone says something we don't agree with, an idea is presented that we immediately dismiss, or we find ourselves pushing back against a possibility before we've even taken the time to understand why. Sometimes our reaction is so strong that we don't give ourselves the opportunity to consider whether there might be something worth exploring beneath it. We simply decide

There is always something else to do, isn't there? Another idea to develop, another email to write, another decision to make, another thing that could be moved forward if we would just put in a little more time. Even when we're tired, even when we know we need a break, there's that little voice reminding us of everything we haven't finished yet. Sometimes, we become so accustomed to pushing forward that we forget what it feels like to stop. We begin to measure our progress by

The dampness in the air rested on my cheeks, and dew had settled across the garden, wet beneath my toes. The glowing embers of the fire still held a little warmth, while the torches cast just enough light to see the garden around me. I sat quietly in the sanctuary I had built, surrounded by the last fullness of summer—the flowers still blooming, the vines still climbing, everything holding on to what the season had given it. Yet there was a sense of release in the air, the su

Last night, we gathered around the fire. There was chili, laughter, stories, conversations about Becoming and Foundations, conversations about life, and plenty of moments that had nothing to do with any of it. It was relaxed and easy. There was no presentation, no agenda, and no pressure to make the evening into anything more than what it was. Somehow, that felt significant. Last night was the Autumn Equinox, and it was also the release of Becoming Expressive, the fourth volu

What are you carrying that you no longer need to prove? There are moments in our lives when something is changing before we really understand what it is. I've started to notice that, for me, those moments often feel like a lull. I get tired. I feel uninspired. I start questioning what I'm doing and wondering what comes next. And for a long time, I interpreted that as a problem I needed to solve. Now I'm beginning to wonder if sometimes it's simply the space between one season

There is something about the changing of seasons that invites us to slow down. Summer has a way of filling our days with movement, plans, longer evenings, and a little more freedom. Then September arrives, the air begins to change, and we find ourselves standing at the edge of something new. The Autumn Equinox gives us a natural moment to pause and notice where we are before we rush ahead into everything that comes next. That is what I want to do this year. On Tuesday, Septem

Quiet the noise long enough to hear yourself. There is something about this time of year that does something to me. I love the cooler mornings and evenings when the days are still warm enough to be outside. I love the bonfires, the smell of fall in the air, and watching the garden begin to change. I love nature in every season, but there is something about autumn that makes me slow down and appreciate it a little more. Maybe it is the reminder that everything is changing, and

What happens when we become willing to let ourselves be seen—and what might we discover about ourselves in the process? That is the question I've been thinking about since my conversation with Sean McNally on The Becoming Podcast. If you haven't listened to Sean's story yet, I encourage you to start there. There is something about hearing a person tell their own story—their own words, their own voice, the things they've lived through and the things they've learned—that allows

There are times in life when we need to make a big change, and there are other times when what we really need is to stop for a moment and take an honest look at where we are. I think I am in one of those moments right now. I am approaching the end of the first twelve weeks of putting Becoming into the world, and this first quarter has given me a lot to think about. I am proud of what I have created, grateful for the people who are beginning to find it, and excited about where

Six months can absolutely change your life. Amanda and I are living proof. Here’s how you can begin creating your own change. Six months ago, Amanda and I knew of each other, but we had never met. We had no idea that even though our lives were completely different, we were both standing in the same place. We were both saying to ourselves, “It is time for something to change. I cannot continue with things the way they are right now. I cannot continue feeling the way that I am

I've spent the past few days thinking about last week's conversation with Johnnie and Reuben. When I sat down to record this week's podcast, I thought we were going to talk about fitness. That was certainly the plan. If you haven't had a chance to check it out then you can listen here: Johnnie and Reuben have spent years helping people become healthier through movement, strength training, nutrition, and by creating a community where people genuinely feel like they belong. We'

One of the things I've come to appreciate about these weekly questions is that they almost never take me where I think they're going to. Every Sunday I ask a question on the podcast, and then I spend the rest of the week living with it before I sit down to write this reflection. I've learned not to rush to an answer because when I do, I usually end up writing what I think I should say instead of what I'm actually learning. If I simply stay curious and give myself enough time,

This morning I walked into my garden carrying a new hummingbird feeder. For the last couple of months, I've been trying to capture a picture of one of the hummingbirds that visits my flowers. If you've ever watched one, you know they're almost impossible to photograph. They're fast, unpredictable, and never seem to stay still long enough. More mornings than I can count, I've stood quietly in my garden with my camera, hoping this would be the day I finally caught one. For my b

Last Sunday, I asked the question, What is your body trying to tell you? If you haven't had a chance to listen to this week's podcast yet, you can do that here before reading today's reflection. One of my favorite parts of this new rhythm is that I don't try to answer the question right away. Instead, I carry it with me throughout the week. I take it on my walks, think about it while I'm driving, and simply pay attention. By Wednesday, I usually realize the answer isn't somet