Time has a funny way of giving you perspective — especially once you’ve stepped out of the blender. For years, owning my small business felt like living inside a whirling appliance: loud, chaotic, exhilarating, exhausting. You don’t really see how crazy it all is while you’re in it. You’re just trying not to lose a finger. Now, nearly two years after selling my business, I finally have enough distance to look back and truly see what that life was really like. And I’m in awe. Owning a business is a little like Stockholm Syndrome. You convince yourself that your life
We’ve come full circle: playground to workplace, back to playground. Having sold my business last year—one I owned for most of my adult life—and being theoretically “young” enough to fully enjoy the years ahead, I’ve been thinking a lot about the snowbird phenomenon. Once upon a time, I viewed snowbirds with thinly veiled scorn. These unfaithful fleers of their hometowns who skedaddled to warmer climes at the first sign of winter? Wimps, I thought. In the Mid-Atlantic, we’re talking about a couple of months of discomfort and the occasional snowfall. This isn’t Minnesota, for Pete’s sake. Toughen up. Then I
Or maybe not. I read a lot of murder mysteries, crime stories, and even the occasional supernatural thriller. I admire writers who can dream up elaborate plots full of twists, turns, and dark motives lurking just beneath the surface. Which is probably why, when I had a slightly inexplicable experience during a four‑night hotel stay, my imagination didn’t just wander — it sprinted. My husband has hunting friends in Iowa, and we decided to stay in a small town for four nights so he could join in the fun. No Airbnbs were available, and once you added “pet‑friendly” to the
Paula, it is a challenging life with all of the responsibilities and risks, but I always loved the potential flexibility it offered. As I near the same decision, I too, hope for some clarity and relief from the angst we felt over the years. When we are laser-focused on meeting all stakeholder expectations even when our personal and business lives are in turmoil, it is hard to find respite. The future allows us to reinvent ourselves, our mission and purpose, and to find a deliberate role that inspires us and those around us.
a masterpiece. Thank you Paula