Unexpected hope and where to find it

Thank you for the outpouring of care and support after I shared my recent health journey. I feel deeply lucky—not just for the choice I got to make, but for the community holding me through it.

On a different note, but one that's related to weathering hard things... the snow.

Yesterday I was at my town’s garden club meeting. There is something wonderfully heart opening about spending an hour in collective devotion to flowers.  

At one point, a woman stood up to reflect on the snow we’ve received here in New Jersey—nearly 18 inches where I live. We’ve been locked in for weeks with blistering cold. One-degree days have worn out their welcome for me.

But she offered a different lens. She explained that the snow is restoring our depleted soil. After years of insufficient rainfall, this slow melt may compensate for what’s been missing. The snow also acts as insulation, protecting plants from deep freeze. It creates shelter for small creatures.

What looks harsh on the surface is, in fact, quietly life-giving. And just like that, the thing I'd begun to resent shifted into something I could appreciate.

More than appreciation, actually—I felt a sense of harmony. A recognition of nature’s self-correction. Balance, arriving without force or urgency. No efforting required on our part.

It made me wonder how often this same principle is at work in our own lives - in our bodies, our relationships, our careers, and our communities.

What if the very thing we're dreading—or resisting, or quietly resenting—carries with it an unrealized gift? What if it’s part of a larger recalibration we can’t yet see?

It's recognitions like this that put me in awe and fuel my hope in a hard world. Everyday I search for such micro miracles.

If you feel moved, write back. I’d love to hear where you’ve noticed something difficult revealing unexpected grace.

And if you'd like support in making hard decisions, transitions, or elevating your leadership, let's explore coaching or my speaking to your team.‍

P.S. Snowman pictured was not of our making - we found him in the woods. Man pictured is my loving husband, Ilya.

P.P.S. Thank you again, to each person who wrote me back last week. It truly warmed my heart.

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