The Art of Letting Go

Moving with intention, not just momentum.

My intention this week was to slow down.

After watching the video where I announced it on Instagram (see below), a friend joked, “Aren’t you afraid you might just stop completely if you keep slowing down?” He hit a nerve. But what I’m realizing is that what I truly meant wasn’t about moving less—it was about learning to let go.

So what does slowing down actually mean for me?

Some days, I bounce from one in-person meeting to another, fit in a networking lunch, and somehow keep tabs on emails and texts in between—usually while walking from one place to the next or riding the subway. I glance at a message and think, “I’ll deal with this later”—and just like that, the list grows longer and heavier as the day goes on. It stresses me out, because I like to keep a clean inbox and handle every open item quickly.

Lately, I’ve had no mental space to follow through properly—not because I’m incapable, but because I haven’t built in the buffer time to do it.

A dear friend once said something that really stuck with me: “I can’t work if my house isn’t organized.” That’s exactly how my brain feels. When my inbox is overflowing, intros and replies are pending, and tasks are left half-done, it’s hard to focus on even the simplest things.

What I’m learning this week is that slowing down means carving out time to process, respond, and clear the clutter. It means actually doing the things that pile up quietly. So yes, it might look like taking fewer meetings—or simply building in buffer days between the busy ones.

The same chaos shows up when I have my kids. The mornings are a whirlwind—kids’ breakfasts, getting dressed, brushing teeth, making sure I eat, squeezing in a shower, and getting out of the house (ideally with a bit of makeup on). My brain still wants the breakfast table wiped down and their room somewhat organized before I dive into work. Otherwise, when I come back to start my workday, my home office feels like it’s screaming at me.

This morning, my son threw his stuffed animal on top of the closet. I pulled out the ladder to get it down. Of course, both kids then wanted to turn it into a jungle gym while I was trying to shower. So I put it away, showered, and then brought it back out for “one last climb.” Deep breath. If you’ve ever done the morning routine solo, I know you can relate.

So no, I don’t just want to slow down. I want to embrace the chaos.

I want to stay calm when things don’t go as planned. I want my routines—the ones that normally help me feel grounded—not to become rigid rules that make me unravel when they’re broken.

This week, my goal is to take a deep breath, focus on what actually matters in each moment, and accept that the rest might not be perfect.
And it’s working—this morning, despite the ladder saga and all the little curveballs, I stayed calm. My son even gave me a rare and glorious morning gold star. That’s what I get to learn.

In my coaching work, I regularly prepare clients for tough conversations. Just recently, I supported a client through quitting her job. I helped her focus on her goal—how she wanted to show up in that moment—and we clarified the values that mattered most to her. We outlined her key points, role-played reactions (including worst-case scenarios), and made sure she felt grounded, confident, and prepared. The meeting went beautifully, and she walked away proud of how she handled it.

Now, I’m learning to bring those same tools into my everyday life. Not just for major decisions, but for the small, daily curveballs. To focus on my goal—whether it’s staying calm, getting out the door on time, building in buffer time to clear my to-do list, or simply not running on autopilot. It’s not about go-go-go all the time. It’s about moving with intention.

So what about you?
How do you let go?
Or maybe—what’s getting in the way of letting go?

If you’re an entrepreneur, a freelancer, a mother—or just someone craving a shift—I’m hosting one of my transformation workshops next Wednesday.
This time it’s a morning session from 9 to 11am in my Chelsea apartment. Small, intimate, cozy (just 4–5 women). A little breakfast, real talk, and genuine connection with people you haven’t met yet—but will leave feeling deeply connected to.

Come join us. You’ll walk away with more clarity—and maybe even a gold star of your own.