You know things are getting serious when I dust off my barely-used library card, grab a notebook and pen, and start checking out books.
This has been a year of what I'll call consideration. A lot of it showed up around my birthday.
When the hell did I get to be this age? I'll say it: fifty-six.
It feels like yesterday I was writing a fun little blog about turning fifty. Now I'm staring down sixty like it's a used car salesman in a cheap suit, trying to convince me that the rust is "part of the charm."
What the ever-loving...It was time to take stock.
Work has been great. My day job continues to challenge me, inspire me, and occasionally convince me that I actually know what I'm doing. But somewhere between meetings, projects, and another trip around the sun, I started doing retirement math - during a drive to work.
That was a mistake because I found myself wondering how many years I had left before retirement and promptly had what can only be described as a low-grade panic attack behind the wheel.
The problem wasn't that I wanted to stop working. The problem was that I didn't want to spend the next ten years waiting for another part of my life to begin.
I needed a plan. A next chapter. Something meaningful. Something that could eventually become more than a side hustle and maybe evolve into a purpose-filled retirement. Something that could help people.
So I started reflecting on the road that brought me here.
The jobs. The lessons. The mistakes. The wins. The people.
I've worked for ten organizations since I was a teenager and held more titles than I can easily remember. Somewhere along the way, I landed in the world of employee experience. But the truth is, I think I've always been in that world.
Long before "culture" became a department. Long before organizations hired people specifically to focus on employee engagement, belonging, wellbeing, and workplace experience.
I was doing the work before it had a name.
Because people's experiences matter. They always have.
The workplace may have changed, but at the end of the day, we're still talking about humans trying to do meaningful work while balancing the complicated business of life.
As I reflected on all of that, I realized something else.
Years ago, I wrote a novel. A romantic suspense novel, thank you very much. That means I can officially call myself a published author. But whenever I thought about writing another novel, I felt stuck. Not because I didn't have stories. Trust me, I have stories.
The problem was that I wasn't excited about revisiting them.
Then, it hit me.
I've spent my entire life making up stories in my head. What if the story I'm supposed to write isn't fiction? What if it's mine?
Not because my life is extraordinary, but because the lessons I've learned might help someone else navigate their own journey.
The workplace.
Leadership.
Community.
Purpose.
Change.
Resilience.
Life.
Suddenly, all the pieces started connecting.
Writing has always been there. Speaking has always energized me.
Whether it was talking on the radio as a college DJ, standing in front of a room full of employees, or writing blog posts that somehow find their way to people who need them, I've always loved connecting through stories.
Maybe that's the next chapter.
Write the book.
Share the message (side note, already doing that with my new website/company: EX Impact Studio).
Speak at conferences.
Have conversations.
Start a podcast.
Get behind a microphone again.
Help people see work—and maybe even life—a little differently.
So here I am. Turning the page. Starting a new chapter. (See what I did there?)
More to come.