Rippling, Reclaiming, Repping

I had the most restorative and joyful June—two girls’ trips in one month! A personal record.

One was a planned annual trip (to Jamaica) with college besties, a tradition I treasure. The other was a spontaneous getaway to New Mexico with a different group of college friends.

I’m deeply grateful for the space, support, and alignment that made both possible—and for the ability to take these trips in a way that felt truly restorative and guilt-free.

Grounding

This may be the first time I’ve written about someone else’s experience grounding me.

I first noticed her during airport check-in—a gorgeous dark chocolate woman traveling with her three children, who looked to be around 14, 10, and 6. You could tell immediately: she was the kind of mom who dots every “i” and crosses every “t”…twice.

As fate would have it, I ended up seated right in the middle of her family. I had the window seat (my favorite!), her youngest—a 6-year-old boy—sat between us, and she took the aisle. Her two older children were directly in front of us.

As we settled in, I watched her carefully tend to each child. Not just making sure they were good, but making sure they were great. Snacks? Check. Blanket? Check. Headphones? Check. There was a moment of near-meltdown when the oldest discovered his airport sandwich had mayo, but she stayed calm, handing him an alternative without skipping a beat.

Midway through the flight, she did something unexpected.

She pulled out a piece of cardboard—about the size of a shoebox lid—and a small paint palette. She told her son she’d be using his leftover water to rinse her brush. Then she painted. A simple landscape: grass, flowers, a little bit of sky. Just a few quiet minutes. And then she packed it away.

It was so beautiful and refreshing to witness. She prioritized herself—without announcement, without apology. Just a moment of stillness. You could feel the ripple effect: from her, to her children, to me, a stranger sitting beside them.

That moment captured so much of what I want for myself and what I want others—especially women who lead and care—to reclaim: small, sacred pauses that interrupt the narrative of “I’m too busy,” “I’m too tired,” or “I don’t have time.” What is one way you can choose to pause— even in the midst of chaos?

Gripping

I’m creating space for leaders to pause and take honest stock of how they’re really doing—with a 9-question reflection designed to explore your rest, clarity, and joy journey.

The Reclamation Reflection is a gentle tool that helps you step back and check in with yourself across areas like purpose, fulfillment, capacity, and expectancy. Once completed, you'll receive personalized insights and suggested next steps—whether you're continuing on your own or partnering with me.

✨ Curious? Take the reflection here.

✨ Know someone who could use a guided pause? Please share it with them.

Rest, clarity, and joy are already ours. We just need to reclaim them. What’s one small step you can take based on your score?

Gifting

On both of my girls’ trips, I found myself in the gym lifting weights with a friend. It wasn’t planned. No “What time are you heading down?” Just…we ended up there.

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised—after all, it’s recommended that women of a certain age (yes, 21 😉) incorporate strength training into their routines.

And yet, it happened twice: me, dumbbells in hand, catching my reflection in the mirror, a friend just to my right. We’d each done completely different things before that moment—Pilates, cardio—but both ended our workouts the same way:

Lift.

Pause.

Repeat.

The rhythm of it took me back to a conversation at a retreat months ago. During a breakout session, a woman shared how strength training had become her anchor in a season that felt wildly out of control. For her, lifting was the pause.

At the time, I was intrigued but unsure. Now, I get it. That effort can still include stillness. That strength doesn’t cancel out rest. Because between every rep, there’s a breath. A moment. A pause. How we choose to honor it is up to us. What parts of your day carry a hidden pause—and how might you begin to notice, or even savor it?

Wishing you a July that blooms in quiet, joyful, and unexpected ways. I look forward to hearing what unfolds.

Joyfully,

Elandria