The Quiet Work of Recalibrating a Life

Recently, I confided in my inner circle—my closest girlfriends, my mentor, and my mom—that I was tired. Not unraveling, just moving at an unsustainable pace.

Like many, I am constantly shifting through roles: nonprofit executive, small business owner, and community leader. Beyond my work, I’m a mother, daughter, partner, friend, mentor, mentee, and student—learning, caring, showing up, becoming. Through it all, I have carried the workload as always—though this time, the strain felt heavier than before.

When I named what I was feeling, the people who know me best reflected it:

“Yes, you can do it all. But should you be doing it this way?”

And once I got quiet enough to listen, the message inside echoed the same truth:

“Your life has grown. Your support must grow to match it.”

When Your Office Becomes a Diagnostic Tool

The message landed fully on the day I realized I couldn’t see my desk.

The work got done, leadership stayed effective, and outcomes came—yet my mind carried more weight than needed. Clutter, avoidance piles, and half-finished lists were signs that my capacity was exceeded.

So, I cleared the space — slowly, intentionally, to make room for myself.

Disorganization is not a flaw. Too much paperwork or too many reminders means my way of organizing is no longer working for my workload.

Your Working Rhythm Is a Love Letter to Your Future Self

I was taught that leadership meant pushing through. That the measure of commitment was endurance. That meant showing up strong— without pause.

Over time, I learned that sustainable leadership looks different. Sustainable leadership means building breaks into my meetings, setting time for deep work, and acknowledging when I need help from teammates/ colleagues, setting boundaries (this one is still a work in progress).

So, when I say I needed “a new system,” I don’t mean rigid routines or productivity for productivity’s sake. I needed a weekly plan to avoid multitasking, make time for focus and community, and flexibility when needed.

So, I reshaped the architecture of my time to support clarity and ease:

• A morning rhythm that centers clarity before effort

• Themed workdays to reduce decision fatigue

• A simple visual workflow that only shows what belongs today

• Movement and rest are woven into the day, not reserved as a reward after it ends.

My responsibilities stayed the same; however, my relationship to them did not.

And my nervous system finally exhaled.

This Is What Balance Actually Looks Like

I’m still learning that balance isn’t stillness or perfection; it’s meeting your life without bracing. Balance is:

• Knowing the difference between what has to happen today and what can wait until tomorrow

• Responding instead of reacting

• Making room for breath and recovery inside my work

• Letting your structure hold you — instead of you holding the structure

Balance is alignment — not the absence of effort, but the absence of unnecessary strain.

Your Turn

If you’re carrying much—well—but feel strain: Pause, notice what’s shifting, and choose one small action today to realign. This invites you to take a step for your well-being now.

Start small. Start gently. Choose one shift today that creates space for you and aligns your work with your needs. Define support for now, then act. Because sustainable leadership is not about capacity —

It’s about support.

Support yourself as fiercely as you support others.

One More Truth

I was reminded that recalibration is not a one-time event. When something in us shifts — our life, our work, our capacity, our calling — our way of working must shift with it. Growth changes what support must look like.

And this is why we need people. Every leader needs a trusted circle for perspective—those who say, “You’ve been here before. Here’s what’s different now.” They’re usually navigating their own version of it, too. We remind each other because forgetting is part of being human.

This is not my first reset—and it won't be my last. That is not regression or failure. It’s simply being a human in motion.

So, when the shift calls again, pause. Listen. Adjust. Breathe. And begin again with intention.