A few weeks ago, I wrote about the truth behind healing: that it is a choice and requires discipline. And Frankl's words added another essential layer of understanding—not only of the path of healing, but of true freedom. “Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.” He made it sound so simple—choose your response, and you'll experience growth and freedom. A simple sentence, easy enough to understand. But when I tried to apply this mindset to my life, I hit a wall. Over and over again!

If there's one thing I truly indulge in religiously, it's my vacations! Whether I'm exploring a new city, sunbathing in a beach town, or spending a quick 24 hours in Vegas, I soak it all in. And as much as I stick to an exercise routine at home, I NEVER work out on vacations—until recently, when everything changed.

When is it time to put down what we've been carrying? As we move through life, we naturally collect things—souvenirs, memorabilia, treasured family heirlooms. All of these are good and meaningful, bringing smiles to our faces when we see them, but what about the other things we pick up along the way?

Have you ever felt a spark of curiosity or a burst of inspiration, only to have it immediately squashed by that annoying, scared voice in your head? The voice that says, "Don't bother… it's not important… you'll look ridiculous… NOT TODAY!" I know that voice all too well—for years, it was the loudest voice in my life.

As a woman in her mid-forties, having experienced marriage, motherhood, and a deep desire to do good in the world, I truly believed I had a firm grasp on my core life values. I had lived enough, experienced enough, and achieved enough to know myself, right? What I discovered challenged everything I thought I knew about myself.

A couple of months ago, I gifted myself a two-week personal retreat. After a year of constant movement, filled with both personal milestones and professional momentum, I decided it was time to slow down and reset in true alignment with myself. Sometimes the greatest gift we can give ourselves is permission to pause.

Last week, one of my daughters came to me to say she had decided not to attend a party she was invited to. Before I had a chance to respond, she launched into a lengthy explanation of all the reasons why she wasn't going. And there it was again—this almost reflexive need to validate our decisions with perfect logic, even when no one is questioning it.

"You're so strong!"—I've been told this numerous times over the last several years as people get to know me and learn about my life. Emotional strength is an incredible quality to possess, and I'm grateful for the acknowledgement, but the truth is that strength didn't show up at my doorstep when I was faced with challenging circumstances.