a little bit of grace

For the past few years, an image has played on repeat in my mind: a giant airplane, one that could carry us across the world, with massive engines mounted to its wings.

It usually appears at random, especially when I’m feeling overwhelmed.

In my mind’s eye, each wing holds three engines. The plane is me, and each engine represents one of the six most important areas of my life.

I picture myself in the cockpit, reaching for the knobs to shut down certain engines, allowing the plane to coast and conserve energy.

It feels like a deep, instinctual knowing. If I’m going to make it to the destination (any destination), there will be turbulence that forces me to downshift. I’ll need to shut some things off to survive. No more autopilot.

Over the past few years, I’ve had to do just that. I powered down a few engines.

One of them was writing this newsletter and tending to my coaching practice, the parts of me that reach outward. Turning that knob to “off” was difficult. But it was necessary.

While coasting (though “coasting” sounds far more serene than it actually was) I tended to what needed tending. I showed up for my family the way I wanted to. I reestablished my relationship with myself. I dove headfirst into writing a book.

The detour was longer than I expected.

That’s how detours go. There were low valleys where I doubted I’d ever get airborne again. There were mountaintops I feared might break me entirely.

These detours are rarely planned. They show up like bright orange cones: a health scare, a family crisis, a transition, a past wound resurfacing. We’re rarely prepared. We just take the turn, narrow our focus, and try to stay open and curious about where it might lead.

With some engines shut down, I had the space to tidy my cockpit - my inner world.

It turns out the simplest things made the biggest difference (they often do): soft sheets on a comfy bed, a return to a consistent yoga practice, journaling (and more journaling), carving out space at home that felt like mine, adding collagen to my morning coffee simply because it felt like a kind thing to do. These daily rituals often fall away during turbulence. I needed to create safety.

Which brings me back here - to this space, these words, this connection with you. It feels like a homecoming. Like the detour didn’t lead me away but deeper. I’m more sure-footed now. More intact. Stronger.

I’ve heard from many of you. Thank you for your kindness. Some of you are new here - welcome. Coming back to the space feels different now. More grounded. There was a reason I had to shut this engine down, and I’m so glad to be back.

I’ve decided to call this newsletter a little bit of grace because that’s what I hope it offers you. A little bit of grace. Or maybe it opens something in you, a place where you can offer more grace to yourself.

As you move through your own life, is it time to shut down a few engines and focus on what matters most? What’s urgently asking for your attention? And what might need to wait? Where do you most need a little bit of grace?

Until next time,

Danielle