01/06/2026
Once again, I do not have access to my blog from Costa Rica so I am posting my blog post here for now: When Decisions Come From a Deeper Place
There are times in our lives when we make decisions not from problem-solving or lists of pros and cons, but from somewhere deeper. A place we may not even be able to name.
For me, these moments have been pivotal.
The first was when I was called to go to India.
To put this into context, I had been to the Far East once before, and I absolutely hated it. So much so that I told my then-boyfriend—now husband—that he was more than welcome to go as often as he liked, but I would never join him again.
And yet, two years later, I found myself standing in our bathroom, knowing—beyond any reasonable explanation—that I had to go to India.
I knew I was risking being unhappy and ill the entire time, just as I had been on that earlier trip. I knew there was a very real possibility of discomfort, exhaustion, and regret. And still, I could not quiet the knowing. I could not control it. It had to happen.
The second time was when I was called to complete my MSW and become a therapist.
I had no plan for how I would make it happen. No clear roadmap. I only knew that I needed to be in private practice. That knowing arrived fully formed, without details or assurances.
It took six years of working in a hospital before I felt ready. And then last year, once again, the decision came not from strategy but from inevitability. It had to happen. And somehow, everything aligned just in time for me to open my practice on January 14, 2025.
Now, almost a year later, I find myself loving my work beyond explanation.
And I can feel the next pivot beginning to stir.
A yoga retreat.
Something, I think, most yoga teachers quietly dream about at some point. I’ve been asked to hold retreats before—by students, fellow teachers, and friends—but until now, the pull was cognitive. Conceptual. It made sense on paper, but it didn’t come from that deeper place.
So I knew it wasn’t time.
I talked it through with my husband for nearly a year, convincing both him and myself that I couldn’t do it. That it wasn’t practical. That it wasn’t realistic.
Until this morning.
Our last day in Costa Rica.
I woke up and I knew—it was going to happen. Not only that, but I knew the theme.
And now here I am, trying to contain this energy. Not because it’s bad, but because I’m so excited by it that it almost overwhelms me. If I let it, it would consume me entirely.
That, for me, is always the sign.
When something beyond my control is opening. When a growth I cannot yet name is taking place. When my only real job is to patiently allow it to grow—without forcing it, without rushing it into being, without demanding that it take shape right now.
Some things arrive fully formed.
Others need to be held gently, quietly, until they’re ready to reveal themselves.
And I’m learning—again—to trust that timing.
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