New Rhythms, Old Anchors
For those of us with kids in school, August marks the end of summer’s easy rhythm and the return of structured routines—the kind of structure some of us secretly (or not-so-secretly) crave. This year, August brings two big milestones for me: I turn 50 (gulp), and I send my oldest to Texas to begin college and his journey into adulthood.
As part of my life rhythm, I set goals every 90 days—little check-ins on what I want to accomplish. A couple of times a year, I also zoom out and look at the bigger picture: 1 year, 3 years, 5 years, even 10 years down the road. But this time, that long-range planning feels…different. Maybe it’s the impending empty nest. Maybe it’s the realization that in 10 years I’ll be 60 (sixty?! Surely there’s been a math error—I’m pretty sure I’m still 35). Whatever the reason, looking ahead has me feeling a bit unsettled.
So much will happen over the next decade. If all goes well, my children will launch into the world and start contributing to the GDP. Maybe they’ll marry. Maybe I’ll become a grandparent (!). And inevitably, people I love—who are constants in my daily life—will pass away, leaving behind unimaginable voids. With so many unknowns, I’ve found myself unable to predict what I’ll want or need in that future season of life.
So instead to guide my goal setting, I’m focusing on what won’t change.
My faith in God. That foundation holds steady.
I want to continue being a wonderful mother. Right now, that means proactive parenting (on my terms). As the kids launch, my role will evolve—our relationship will shift to their terms. I want to be present when needed, offer advice only when asked (this will be my Everest), and love them no matter what.
I want to serve clients with excellence—giving them not just what they need, but what they want, in a positive, welcoming space. I want to lead a firm where every team member feels valued, compensated fairly, supported, and proud of the work they do.
I want to enjoy this new season of life with my husband—have fun, laugh more, travel when we can, and lean into the joy of the ordinary.
I want to learn and try new things that I can use to bless others.
And I want to continue investing in the people I care about—friends, family, and even the new connections that the next decade may bring.
The “who” and “what” I want to be probably won’t change. But the “how”? That part is still unfolding. I suppose I’ll figure it out as I go—preferably with a good book, wonderful companions, and maybe a little less calendar chaos.
