2025: An Unexpected Year of Courage, Connection, and Returning to Light

I began this year feeling shattered.

The election cracked something open in me—not just politically, but spiritually. Anyone with compassion, kindness, or a sense of shared humanity could feel the weight of what was unfolding. It felt dark. Heavy. Disorienting.

Before the new year even arrived, I knew one thing for certain:
I couldn’t sit in the darkness.

I didn’t call it “light” yet.
I just knew I needed to make intentional, positive moves toward something life-giving.

So in December, I began scheduling coffee dates.

Not networking.
Not strategizing.
Just connecting.

I reached out to people whose character and values aligned with mine—kind hearts, curious minds, people who cared about the world and weren’t driven by fear, othering, or bias. (I suppose I have a bias of my own: toward compassion.)

Over the course of the year, I had dozens of these conversations.

I sat across from:

• a woman living her first year clear-minded and sober, meeting adulthood with curiosity instead of fear

• women in their 60s and beyond starting new careers, writing books, creating courses, traveling the world—proof that becoming doesn’t expire

• a business owner quietly leading with kindness, greeting strangers like old friends, reminding me how powerful everyday leadership can be

• women navigating teenagers rooted in love, redefining success after retirement, or bravely stepping into unfamiliar seasons

• artists, teachers, entrepreneurs, justice-seekers, and light-bearers—each one expanding my understanding of what it means to live fully

I was deeply moved—not just by who they were, but by the courage it took in me to keep my heart open and say, “Would you like to sit down and talk?”

That choice changed everything.

Midyear, we put our house on the market…
…and then moved back into it.

At first, it felt like failure.
But perspective has a way of softening sharp edges.

After seeing so many other homes, we returned with new eyes and a renewed appreciation. What once felt limiting now feels deeply right. Sometimes the answer isn’t elsewhere—it’s learning to see where you already are.

This year also brought grace where fear once lived.

Someone I love deeply received a clean bill of health after years of battling cancer. A quiet miracle. A reminder not to take a single breath for granted.

In my effort to stay connected, I joined a women’s circle—and there, something unexpected arrived.

A download.
A remembering.
Return to Light.

I felt the presence of the women who came before me.
I felt my mother—not as the fear-filled, traumatized woman many knew—but in her strength. Whole. Fierce. With me.

That knowing warmed me in a way I didn’t know I needed.

Later in the year, the coffee dates slowed as life shifted.
But connection didn’t stop.

I continued a long-standing ritual with one of my closest friends—reading books together, committing to chapters, meeting every two weeks. We’ve been doing this for years. Growth doesn’t always look loud. Sometimes it looks steady.

And then—unexpectedly—I wrote a book.

And a journal to go with it.

That wasn’t on my 2025 bingo card.

I started with a small, free offering. I kept pulling threads, following curiosity, letting the work reveal itself. It felt natural—inevitable, even—to build community around it. And in September, Return to Light Gatherings began.

Not as a performance.
But as a practice.

The year wasn’t without grief.

Some relationships I thought were safe revealed themselves to be deeply misaligned. I grieved that loss. And in the grief, I found liberation. On some level, I think I always knew.

With time, I created new boundaries—relationships rooted in integrity, honesty, and peace.

I attended my first protest this year.
Then another—alone.

Both gave me something invaluable: clarity.

I know who I am.
I know what I stand for.
I lead with love—and I love deeply.

That love gives me the courage to ask for what I want and accept nothing less than what I deserve.
It gives me permission to explore, experiment, and seek joy without apology.
It draws me toward like-hearted people and reminds me to celebrate resonance when I find it.

Looking back, 2025 was an unexpected package of courage, boldness, and love in action.

In numerology, it’s the final year of a nine-year cycle.
Which means 2026 begins something entirely new.

So I’ll ask you what I’m asking myself:

Will you recognize that the clock is ticking—and that you have nothing to lose?
Will you explore what makes your soul sing and your spirit dance?
Or will you repeat what you’ve always done and call it another year?

As for me—

I will continue pressing forward.
Inspiring.
Collaborating.
Standing with women (and a few brave men).

Choosing love over fear.
Curiosity over numbness.
Light over silence.

✨ It’s time to return to light—and shine brightly. ✨

You are so loved.