It’s a beautiful early July morning, and only two days before we’ll celebrate the Fourth of July here in the United States.

For me, this morning feels like the calm both before and after the storm.

Like many parts of this country, we’ve faced tricky weather around here lately, with more than enough rain and nearly constant wind. The trees surrounding our cabin have taken a beating, starting with a winter ice storm from which they have yet to recover.

Last night, I sat writing in our sunroom, enjoying the fresh scent of rain through a barely open window while lost in a story I’m working feverishly to finish. The sound of rain lulling me into that always sought after but too often elusive state of mind where the words flow freely from my mind through my fingers wasn’t the real-life shower falling just beyond the windows, but the meditative sound track playing through my noise canceling headphones. I’ve listened to that same track while writing all twelve of my books to date.

I only mention the headphones because—lost as I was in the fictional world I’ve devised through my imagination—I didn’t even hear the racket when something came crashing down in the real world. A huge branch fell, mere feet from the corner of the room where I sat writing. My daughter had to alert me to the near miss; shocked that I could be so oblivious to my surroundings.
​

How often do we miss what’s going on around us while lost in our own thoughts?

Today, when I woke to a clear sky and a calm breeze, I decided it was the perfect morning for a peaceful cup of coffee on the dock. We expect another storm around here tomorrow, but it won’t be a weather event (I hope). The rest of our family will arrive for a few days of fun camaraderie, good food, and hopefully a campfire complete with marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers.

But I have more words to write, a menu to figure out, and groceries to buy before the festivities can begin. This is the lull before my next storm.

Beyond the scope of our planned family activities, there are plenty of other storms brewing. It’s all enough to threaten a person’s peace of mind, yet it’s important for us to deal with the tension we feel.

​As I gathered my fresh cup of coffee and a notebook to jot down pointers for the chapters I plan to write today, I headed outside and down the steps toward the shoreline, only to pull up short at the odd tilt to my battered copper pot. I usually plant flowers in it each summer. This year, all that’s growing in it is regrowth from last year because my flower planting was pretty sparse. Yesterday, I’d admired the way nature had stepped in where I’d failed to act, and I swear that pot was still upright. This morning, the base on which it’s anchored is crumbling, and the whole thing is at risk of collapse.
​

I’ll have to move the pot, because my goal is to plant many more years’ worth of flowers in it in the future.
​
Then, as I approached the dock itself, I was surprised to see that one of the supports my hubby had just placed a few days ago had already tipped over. The waves churned up in the stormy weather yesterday were probably the culprits. I had to decide whether to kick off my slides and venture into the water so I could re-brace the end of the dock. Stepping onto the unsupported dock wasn’t an option, as I might have damaged the frame.

Fine. While I hadn’t planned to get my feet wet at 6:45 in the morning, sometimes we have to do what it takes when tiny impediments stand in the way of our goals. Off came my slides and I dipped my toes into the water, delighted when the temperature was pleasant instead of jarring.

Then the shale beneath my feet gave way, and I had to fight to keep my balance lest I end up with muddy shale on the seat of my sweatpants, or tumble into the water.

Unbeknownst to me, there may have been a witness to my stumbling. Do you see the swirl right next to the dock? But I’m not worried. Fish will keep our secrets.
​
Once the concrete block was back in place, I realized things had shifted enough that the dock ramp no longer touched it. But it would at least be there if the ramp dipped under my weight, so I held my breath and eased my way out onto the dock. I needed those quiet few minutes to enjoy my fresh coffee and contemplate the state of the world around me.

No one else was around, but I wasn’t alone. A large pelican, barely visible in the photo’s background below, bobbed on the gentle swells of the lake. He came no closer to me, but my presence didn’t disturb him enough to force him to leave, either. A second pelican swooped overhead, choosing not to land in our bay. I probably scared him off.
​

Then a head popped out of the water, and I could see a small stick protruding from the little guy’s mouth. A beaver maybe? Whatever it was, it swam toward shore, but before I could turn my phone camera back on, it ducked below the surface again, still there but now out of sight.

I glimpsed the sleek spine of a fish, skimming right below the surface of the water, much closer to our dock.

By the time my coffee had cooled, the wind was picking up again and I could hear a dog barking from our cabin. She didn’t appreciate being left inside. My reprieve was over, yet those few minutes brought important things to mind.

• Even when things seem frustratingly disheartening in the outside world, creatures in nature continue to go about their business, undeterred by things beyond their control.
• No foundation is impervious to pressures, and all are at risk of collapsing if not properly protected.
• This creates an interesting dichotomy. How can we strike the right balance between the two?

 
We live in a great country, and I feel blessed to be planning a celebration of it for our family and friends, even though I dread that trip to the grocery store. I hope we can all take a few minutes in the days ahead to remind ourselves of how we might work together to strengthen this nation, instead of focusing on our differences or trying to gain power over others. Because just like that crumbling tree stump and unstable shale shoreline I encountered this morning, it doesn’t take much to tip things over.

​I hope you have the chance to enjoy a favorite food in the days ahead; to laugh with someone special; or to toss a beanbag in a friendly game under a warm sun while standing on a grassy, stable surface.

We should never forget how lucky we are to live here, nor can we afford to take our blessings for granted.

Happy Fourth of July! Celebrating alongside you, Kim

Have you ever written a letter to your future self? Trust me when I tell you it can be fun, and February 29th is the perfect day to pull out paper and pen. Write it today and open it on 2/29/28. Because even though we often forget, every single one of us is solely responsible for writing the next chapters of our own lives. Sure, life will throw us curve balls, but how we respond and where we place our daily focus will ultimately shape our journey.
 
Why do I think writing a letter to your future self can be both fun and helpful? Because I’ve tried it.
 
On the front end, as you decide what to write, you get to dust off your dreams. To really think about what you’d love your life to look like over the next four years. Then you can seal up the envelope, stick it on a shelf, and go about your day. When Leap Day rolls around next time, pulling out those handwritten sheets will feel like an intimate visit from your younger self.
 
An eight year old letter is even more fun to read through.
 
On the morning of February 29, 2016, I sat at a crowded conference table in the basement of a high-rise office building in downtown Denver, Colorado. I was working with yet another new team and it was my first time meeting most of them. With twenty-five years of experience in corporate America, I could play the part, but I didn’t want to be there. I braced myself for a long day of dry discussions.
 
But the executive running the show that day kicked us off with a surprising exercise. He gave each of us three sheets of paper and an envelope, along with a challenge to write our future selves a letter. After the allotted time, he’d collect our sealed envelopes, hold on to them for four years, then return them to each of us on February 29, 2020.
 
What a refreshing way to kick things off! At least I thought so, but I heard a few groans, too.
 
I took the assignment seriously, banging out three full pages of handwritten notes to myself. The only rule I broke was around turning in the letter. I’d been around tables like this for long enough to suspect our “world” would probably look very different after another four years, and the likelihood of that envelope finding its way back to me was slim. Instead, I slipped it in my briefcase and brought it home.
 
It’s always best to control our own destiny!
 
A Leap Day Letter is for your eyes only. But today I’m going to take a leap of faith (sorry, I couldn’t resist) and share with you the nine items I wrote on that long ago day, and how things are turning out, eight years later. Remember, I had to write these out quickly, without time to prepare, but I suspect most are quite relatable.

• 2/29/16: “Control my time.” I longed for time freedom. At 49 years old, I was sick to of others controlling my schedule. I wanted to work with a more flexible schedule set by ME.
  • 2/29/20: Still stuck in the 8 to 5, but I had a written escape plan and I was getting things lined up to make the leap.
  • 2/29/24: It’s 9:16 a.m. and I’m working on my laptop in my living room, in my bathrobe, with our sweet little Yorkie close by.

 

• 2/29/16: “Proud to be a published author.” But all I had at the time was a very rough manuscript in my desk drawer at home and no clue how to take it from a Word document to an actual novel.
  • 2/29/20: Four novels published with a fifth written and in the editing phase.
  • 2/29/24: Writing full time and ten novels published with the eleventh releasing soon.

• 2/29/16: “Do work that adds significant value to other people’s lives.” I was burned out in my job. It was hard work, but the output never felt meaningful. It wore me down.
  • 2/29/20: Countless role changes occurred over the four years since I’d sat around that table in 2016, and they were all at the whim of others. I knew I needed to make a change, but I was terrified to walk away from my salary and benefits.
  • 2/29/24: I’m a full-time author. When I turned 55 in the 2021, I turned my back on what I knew was a false sense of security. I’d always regret it if I didn’t take the chance.

• 2/29/16: “Healthy lifestyle.” Eating better and getting regular exercise was always a struggle for me. Twenty-five years in a desk job and my fiftieth birthday was looming. Again, I knew I needed to make changes.
  • 2/29/20: I kicked off 2020 with a new Fitbit and the goal to walk a minimum of 10,000 steps a day. Two months in, and I hadn’t missed a day. The new habit would be a blessing in the coming months, when so much of the world shut down. By the end of 2020, I’d walked over 2,000 miles.
  • 2/29/24: Too much of a good thing is sometimes not sustainable. My rigid stance on long daily walks contributed to issues with my feet and legs. I fell out of my walking habit, and I still have room for improvement in my eating habits. But a new walking pad under my writing desk is helping!

 

• 2/29/16: “Solid relationships with Rick (my hubby), our kids, my parents, extended family, closest friends.” Family has always been my #1 priority. We’d likely be empty nesters soon, with all three kids off living their own lives. How could we all stay close?
  • 2/29/20: In 2016, I knew that my dear mom was facing a potentially life-ending illness. She was my rock, and when we lost her in 2017, I had to learn how to do life without her. By February 2020, our youngest was away for her freshman year of college. Within weeks she’d be forced to move home again, so the nest didn’t stay empty for long!
  • 2/29/24: I’ve adjusted to life without Mom, but she’s always close in my heart. We’ve suffered other losses, too, but we learn to adjust. This summer, we’ll celebrate our 35th wedding anniversary, and I even have an exciting new title: Nana!

 

• 2/29/16: “Travel without strict time limitations.” I dreamed of the day when I didn’t have to abide by a PTO schedule.
  • 2/29/20: I squeezed in a bit of travel, but it was still impossible to get away for long.
  • 2/29/24: I’m free! Well, sort of. For example, in the fall of 2023, I visited Sedona for a women’s retreat, Florida for a writing conference, and the Biltmore House just because. Here’s to more travel in the future!

 

• 2/29/16: “Help other working mothers find a different way to support their families without the 8 to 5 grind.” I didn’t know how, but this vision was on my heart. In 2016, I still had kids at home. Throughout my corporate career, I’d find myself encouraging work friends to keep their families first, even when work commitments made it tough.
  • 2/29/20: The theme of midlife reinvention started appearing in my novels.
  • 2/29/24: I still want to encourage women to chase their dreams, no matter their age. I try to write fiction that offers inspiring entertainment and to live my life as an example of the reward in taking chances. How I continue to do this will evolve.

 

• 2/29/16: “Build multiple streams of income vs. relying on a J.O.B., find ways to save money so it can be redirected for more enjoyment, help others, and to take care of myself for as long as I live.” Yes, I am a numbers girl at heart!
  • 2/29/20: Again, I hadn’t summoned the nerve to leave my J.O.B yet, but I was quietly executing my escape plan by doing things like setting money aside from my paycheck every month to use for future insurance premiums when I’d eventually take the leap.
  • 2/29/24: I’m actively building multiple streams of income with every new book I write, each new online vendor I load my books onto, etc. In the future, I’ll continue to implement a wider variety of income streams. It’s dangerous to rely on one income source. Life teaches us all this.

 

• 2/29/16: “Set an example for my kids around building a lifestyle you love vs. spending so much of your precious time working for others on things that aren’t important to you.”
  • 2/29/20: By 2020, I knew my three kids didn’t really believe that I’d ever make the career change I so desperately wanted. I’d talked about it for too long without taking action. That couldn’t continue.
  • 2/29/24: I’m striving to keep my writing career as a viable option, proving to them it’s possible to find work you love. We all need some level of monetary reward to pay the bills, but I want to show them that work can be so much more than just tolerating unrewarding work in exchange for a paycheck. In some ways, my new gig is much harder than my old one, but the rewards are so much greater.

Today, my life bears little resemblance to the one I was living as I sat around that conference table in 2016. I’m now 57 instead of 49. Time has a funny way of slipping away. My work is so much more creative now than it was back then. My days are my own. Some old problems have fallen away, while new ones have cropped up. That is what it means to be alive. Overall, I’m happy with the progress I’ve made over the past eight years.
 
Did that letter I dashed off to myself on 2/29/16 make any difference? I like to think so. There is always a benefit to pausing and thinking about what you want next in your life.

Did I write a letter to myself on 2/29/20? I thought so, but I can’t find it. Maybe I wrote it while at my desk in my old office building. Things were getting a little scary right then, and within a couple of weeks, we were all sent home to work. Perhaps the letter got lost in the shuffle. I never went back to that desk. I worked from home until I quit in October 2021.

Maybe I’ll find the letter from 2020 someday, tucked away in a drawer. It doesn’t matter. What matters most is that today I’ll pull out three fresh pieces of paper and write myself a new letter to open on 2/29/28. I have so many more dreams to pursue and I never want to stop growing or learning.
 
I encourage you to find ten minutes today to do the same. Your future self will thank you!
 
Always cheering you on,  Kim

​Have you ever wanted to make a big life change but you couldn’t quite get yourself there? Maybe you wanted to move to a different city or go back to school. For me, I wanted a new career. Actually, I needed a new career. The old one wasn’t working for me anymore, and I refused to “ride it out”.
 
But starting something new in my fifties felt daunting. Work needed to look different this time. At the top of my list was freedom. Freedom to choose when and where I’d work, and what I’d work on. My best option was to work for myself, but what would it be like to be my own boss?

​I almost quit my old gig a few different times, but to be frank, I always chickened out. Time continued to tick by, and suddenly I was no longer in my “early fifties”. I’d reached fifty-five. If this kept up, I’d turn sixty and still be unhappy at work. I could technically “retire” from my corporate job, although I knew I wanted to keep working.
 
What I really wanted to do was throw my entire self into writing books. As a banker and an accountant, I vacillated between the potential financial pitfalls along any author’s path and the sheer excitement over the prospect of finally pursuing the longings of my heart. I’d published my first book four years earlier and spent most of my free time learning about publishing and writing craft.
 
Did I dare give notice this time? Was I crazy to walk away from a paycheck and benefits? Probably, but the ultimate cost of staying loomed too high. I knew if I didn’t try, I’d always regret it, and I refuse to be one of those people with a heaping pile of regrets at the end of my days.

​If I was finally going to summon the courage to change careers, I needed reinforcements. A dear friend offered endless encouragement. My spouse supported my decision. Even the arbitrary early-retirement age at my company felt like “permission”. But I still worried I’d chicken out. Again.
 
I celebrated turning fifty-five in late July 2021. August flew by, and though I thought about quitting my job nearly every day, I didn’t give notice. What was I waiting for? Another few paychecks? Don’t misunderstand. I knew I was blessed to have a job at all. But reminders were popping up all around. It was time, and I knew I couldn’t wait any longer.
 
I didn’t even want to wait until the end of the year. I decided to pick the day and it would feel magical when I reached it. That random date I selected was October 15, 2021. I’d give a one-month notice. But how could I stay true to myself? It would be too easy to put it off again. After all, delaying had become a habit.
 
I needed a new plan. I’ve always loved encouraging quotes. If I kept reinforcing my commitment every day to this self-devised timeline, would I actually do it this time? The date was September 9, 2021, and it would have been my mom’s seventy-eighth birthday if she’d still been alive. Because I knew she’d want this for me, I decided, once and for all, that I was doing this. I’d give notice the following week, on September 15th, and be done in a month. That meant there were thirty-six days until I was free to pursue my new career.
 
I spent that September 9th combing through copies of quotes I’d saved in various places: screen shots on my phone, boards I’d put together over the years on Pinterest, and even highlighting in some of my favorite books. I found thirty-six favorites, wrote them down on pretty paper, and headed to the backyard to take a picture of every single one.

I hoped those words of encouragement that I’d collected over the years would ultimately help see me through this time. Each day, I’d study that day’s quote and then tack it up on a fresh posterboard. I wouldn’t break the chain, no matter what. I saved my very favorite quote for what would be my last day at the place I’d worked since I was twenty-four years old. Maybe you think this all sounds silly, but it worked. It had taken me years to figure out what would keep my commitment and courage strong.
 
Friday, 9/10/21:
I'll do what makes me happy and be done with all the rest.
 
Saturday, 9/11/21:
Embrace uncertainty, some of the most beautiful chapters in our lives won’t have a title until much later.
 
Sunday, 9/12/21
The trouble is, you think you have time.  Buddha
 
They say your life can change in an instant, and that’s true. But when we have to intentionally summon the courage to make a change that rockets us out of our comfort zone, especially when it’s a change that many people won’t understand, it takes something extra. In my case, it was the combination of an accountability buddy and a series of random quotes, written on dated slips of paper, that saw me through from dissatisfaction to a new way of life.
 
As I’m writing this blog post, it’s exactly two years since I chose to finally stay true to myself. It should have been Mom’s eightieth birthday, and although I couldn’t celebrate with her, I know she’d approve of the changes I’ve made.
 
I’ve decided it will be fun to share those actual quotes and images with you, once a day, until I reach my two-year anniversary in my new career. Come find me on Facebook or Instagram under "kimberlydiedeauthor" to follow along. Be sure to let me know if any of them resonate with you, too.
​

I’ll ask again: is there a big decision you’re tired of putting off? If so, what kind of encouragement could you give yourself to follow through this time? Maybe some of my favorite quotes will ignite a fire for you, too.
 
Cheering you on,   Kim

Original Post 12/16/18 (updates added below as of 11/27/22):
 
How many choices would you say you make in a single day? Would it be safe to say we make thousands of choices between the time we wake up and the time we go to bed?
 
We have to decide what time to get up, what to wear, what to eat, and the list goes on and on. Much of our days are spent doing things we decided to do a long time ago.
 
Yesterday, our middle child graduated from college, following in her older brother’s footsteps. Needless to say, we are incredibly proud of all the hard work she’s put in to reach this milestone. The number of decisions it took for her to reach this point is almost mindboggling. All along the way, she had to choose whether or not to do the things she had to do if she wanted to earn a college degree.
 
As we watched the many graduates file into the auditorium, garbed in their caps and gowns, I couldn’t help but marvel at both the efforts it took for each of them to reach that point but also the endless possibilities stretching out before them. Most are at the very beginning of what will become their life
work. Some are charting a new course for themselves, making a choice to do something different.

​I wondered how many of them knew what their next step would be. How many will find work in their chosen field? Would they like it once they were out there, working in the real world?
 
I have to admit, a tiny part of me even felt a twinge of jealousy. What would it be like to be twenty-something again, with nearly unlimited options ahead of me?
 
But it didn’t take me long to remember how scary it felt. Endless choices can be overwhelming and more than a little scary. Back then, the choices didn’t feel endless.
 
I also like to think I’ve learned a thing or two through the years since I last stood there in a cap and gown. Life teaches us all so much. Some of those lessons are best learned one time. Some are so painful I’d prefer never to have to repeat them.
 
So while I wouldn’t want to be twenty-two again, are there some things I wish I would have known then that I know now? Silly question, right?!
 
•   I would tell my younger self to take more chances. To not always make the safest, least risky choice.
•   I would assure my younger self I was smart enough and strong enough to take on big challenges and not settle.
•   I would work harder to maintain those relationships in life that meant the most to me. I’d hug more and argue less. I’d let petty things go and find joy in the little things.
•   I’d move more and sit less. And I’d definitely dance more.
•   I would stress less about specific work tasks. It was never worth it.
•  I’d warn myself that the endless list of tiny choices I’d make, day in and day out, would ultimately result in the quality of my life. It’s seldom the biggest choices we make, that seem so monumental at the time, that impact us the most.

Wow, I’d have been so much smarter if I could have shared all of this with my twenty-two-year-old self! But the reality is that even if that were possible, it might not have made any difference. Because until we live these things ourselves, and truly appreciate the impact of the choices we make, we won’t take someone else’s word for it. While the years may not always be kind to us, the lessons we pick up along the way will be invaluable.
 
We can’t go back. I wouldn’t want to go back. But we don’t have to. None of us are really much different from all those graduates standing in that auditorium yesterday. We all have endless possibilities before us. We just have to open our eyes to them. There are blessings in the hard-won wisdom we possess by the time we’re fifty-two instead of twenty-two. We know it’s better if we chose the wheat bread over the white bread and the vegetables over the chocolate. It’s better to find work we love than suffer through work that pays better. And relationships are worth fighting for, even on those days when you might not like the other person all that much.
 
It’s all about making better choices. And that’s hard to do until you have your own life experiences to draw upon.
 
Since I can’t go back and tell my twenty-two-year-old-self anything, I’ll instead remind my fifty-two-year-old self of a few essential things:

Having the gift of choice is a blessing. Choose wisely as often as you can, and when you stumble because of a poor choice, forgive yourself and chalk it up to some more of that hard-earned wisdom. Choose better next time.
 
Challenge yourself and encourage others. And please forgive me, but as a proud parent, I have to add one last note. As I finish writing today’s post, our youngest just popped into the room to tell us she got accepted into the top two colleges of her choice. Now she has a choice to make. The circle of life continues.
 
Updates 11/27/22:
 
Speaking of the circle of life and how our choices impact us, here is a summary of some of the bigger choices my family has made in the four years since my original blog post in late 2018:

• Our daughter chose to go on to optometry school after her graduation from UND. She is currently doing rotations around the U.S. and will graduate with her Doctor of Optometry next May. She also married the man she’d dated since high school and they are happily building a life together.
• Our youngest daughter chose to attend UND as well. She’ll graduate with a degree in Biology next May, and is considering additional schooling in the medical field. She has more choices to make soon.
• Our son and his wife, newly married in my earlier post, made the choice to have a child, making us grandparents!
• My husband made a career change and is thriving at his new job.
• I quit my corporate job after thirty-one years to pursue my dream of writing novels and finally enjoy some time freedom. I even wrote a novel called “Choosing Again”!

 
Some choices can be scary to consider and difficult to make, but hindsight can offer reassurances that the worst-case scenarios almost never come to pass. There is even more joy to be found when we bet on ourselves.

Always in your corner, cheering you on!   Kim