Slowing down isn’t the same as stopping. Here’s how embracing the natural seasons of life and business helped me create a sustainable rhythm—without burnout.
On one hand, I cannot wait for spring to fully arrive.
I’ve been tending to my roses and ranunculus, getting my seedlings started indoors, mapping out what I’ll plant when the ground is finally ready.
The sun has teased us with a few hopeful days, but mostly, it’s still cold. When the kids were off for spring break last week, we were all still bundled up, waiting for the real warmth to kick in.
This time of year is funny—it’s like the universe keeps whispering, soon… but not yet.
And so instead of fighting it, I’ve been embracing the things I can only do in winter.
I played hooky on Monday and spent the day at the spa with friends, celebrating Black Women’s Day of Rest.
We laughed, we ate everything in sight, we planned our next girls’’ trip. And as we sat there, I kept thinking about how rare it is to see black women luxuriating without having to earn it first.
We see it all the time with these random, silly holidays—National Coffee Day, World Smile Day, Oreo Cookie Day—but when it comes to something like Black Women’s Day of Rest, it’s mostly ignored.
But there we were, reclaiming it anyway.
And I’ve been letting that mindset spill into the rest of my days, too.
Lately, I’ve been moving slowly. Reading more books than ever, giggling away like a schoolgirl at the storylines. Listening to audiobooks while I bake bread—because yes, I am finally in my sourdough era. Stretching in the morning instead of pushing myself into a workout I don’t want to do, having random last minute pot-luck dinners with friends.
And honestly? It’s been such a relief.
The best part of having friends that live so close are nights like these: surrounded by chaos and all of our kids.
A few years ago, I heard a question that stopped me in my tracks:
Who or what gets the best of you?
And without even thinking, I answered: my clients.
At the time, I was proud of that. Of how much I poured into my work, of how present I was, of how deeply I cared. But the more I sat with it, the more I realized what it actually meant—how little I was pouring into everything else.
And suddenly, things started making sense.
Why I always felt like I was teetering on the edge of burnout.
Why I had so little left for myself at the end of the day.
Why I kept pushing through exhaustion instead of questioning why I was exhausted in the first place.
I was over-functioning everywhere—over-delivering in my business, over-carrying things at home, over-extending myself in ways that, at the time, felt necessary.
I was like a computer with too many tabs open, running on low battery, plugging myself in just long enough to keep going. But never long enough to actually reset.
And that was the real problem.
Because I wasn’t resting—I was just recharging enough to continue over-functioning.
It took time to untangle all of that.
At first, I thought the solution was just taking more time off.
But I’ve learned that it’s not just about time. It’s about what we allow that time to be.
Because even when I stepped away, I wasn’t really giving myself permission to just be a person.
I was resting in service of my business—so I could come back stronger, so I could carry more, so I could give more.
That was the real shift: recognizing that my capacity is not unlimited.
That I don’t exist just as a business owner, or a mother, or a coach.
That rest isn’t something I should be squeezing in—it’s something I should be building around.
That’s why I have a three-day workweek.
Not because I want to be on a beach somewhere (though I wouldn’t say no).
But because I know myself now.
I know I need structured connection time, but also time to retreat and integrate.
I know that solitude isn’t a nice-to-have for me—it’s essential.
I know that if I want to show up fully for my work, my family, my relationships, I cannot run myself into the ground first.
And I know that this doesn’t look the same for everyone.
A friend of mine—she’s a 1/3 Projector in Human Design—was telling me about her own reckoning with this. She spent years thinking she had to keep up with her peers in the start-up founder world raising money who thrive in a more, more, more world. But that’s not how she’s wired.
And instead of forcing herself into that box, she’s finally learning to build around what actually works for her.
That’s the work, isn’t it?
To stop fighting our own natural rhythms.
To stop trying to fit into someone else’s version of success.
To stop waiting until we’re at capacity before we start taking care of ourselves.
Everything is cyclical.
That’s been the biggest realization for me lately—not just in how I’m relating to winter, but in so many other areas of my life.
Because how often do we rush into the next thing, the next season, the next stage—without ever fully seeing the gifts in right now?
In shifting my relationship with winter, I’ve started noticing how that lesson is showing up everywhere.
Celebrated another year around the sun with a low-key dinner with the hubby
We just booked our flights to London, and I know that when we’re there, Michael and I will take our annual couples’ trip—a long weekend to just be together before summer kicks into full swing. And once summer does arrive, it’ll be brimming with movement. Family time, friends, trips, gatherings, long evenings outside.
And that’s beautiful. But I also know myself.
I know that when we’re in the thick of summer, I’ll be reminiscing about these slower mornings. The quiet. The solitude. The way winter forces me to slow down and be here, and savour my own energy.
So much of what I’m taking away from this season is the reminder to embrace where I am, instead of rushing ahead to where I think I should be.
What This Means for Business (and Self-Care)
Over the years, I’ve had so many students ask me what my thoughts are about them taking a break from their businesses. And my answer has always been the same:
You have to do what’s best for you.
But here’s the thing. If your business is built in a way that leaves you overworking, underpaid, and over-functioning—taking a break won’t fix that.
Because when you come back, it’ll be the same business.
With the same systems (or lack thereof).
With the same expectations, the same patterns, the same pressures.
Yes, stepping away can be helpful. But what it’s really calling you to do is take an honest look at why you feel the way you do in your business—and then, and only then, cultivating the courage to make the changes that will actually support you.
That’s the work.
And it looks different for all of us.
Blurry polaroid of such a fun house party I threw for my hubby with some of his closest friends. I danced until the wee hours. It was the BEST!
For me, it meant designing my business in a way that allows me to have three-day workweeks—not as a luxury, but as a necessity. It meant understanding what I actually need to function at my best. It meant getting really honest about where I was draining myself unnecessarily, and restructuring things so that my business could support me, not just the other way around.
So I’ll leave you with this:
What do you need?
How do you need to take care of yourself—not just in business, but in life?
And what would it look like to create a business that actually supports the life you want, instead of forcing you to recover from it?
Because whatever season you’re in right now, there’s wisdom in it.
And the more you can honor it, the better everything else gets.
