Hi Reader,

Tell me if this sounds familiar:

The alarm goes off in the morning, you roll out of bed, and BAM! The race is on. Before you’re even fully awake, you’re already behind.

Almost immediately, you are sucked into the hustle and bustle of the day. You're making coffee. Finding your daughter's socks. Reminding your partner about the meeting with his father's nursing home after work. Packing a lunch. Grabbing clothes out of the dryer. And finally grabbing something to eat—plus that coffee—as you dash out the door.

It’s 7 a.m. and you're already in overwhelm.

I have to tell you: this has happened to me more times than I’d like to admit. Days when I just can’t seem to move fast enough to get it all done, much less take the time to slow down, write in my journal, stretch, appreciate the morning.

And I don't feel like I'm alone. It seems like there are a lot of women out there just going going going. And it. Is. Exhausting.

But more than that, it's depleting. Not just in time, but in our souls.

And I learned that early.

One year, on the first day of school, I was trying to make everything perfect. Perfect breakfast. Perfect backpacks. Perfect photo planned by the front door. My speed was Olympic-level. My focus was everywhere. Except on my actual children.

That’s how I ended up shutting the sliding glass door on my son’s little fingers.

Cue screaming. Cue tears (his first, mine second). Cue the shattering realization that I was doing so much to give them a “good” morning that I wasn’t actually with them at all.

I wish I could tell you that moment cured me of rushing forever.
It did not.

My kids are older now. Mornings could be calmer. And still, there are days I’m halfway to 3 p.m. before I’ve taken a real breath.

Which is why Sharon Kenney Rudy’s work hits home.

During our conversation, she talked about time swallowers and this ancient idea that we’re not at the mercy of time. That tiny pauses can return us to ourselves. That we can reshape how time feels.

Not by quitting life and moving to an alpaca farm, or Italy, or a remote cabin in the mountains (nice as some of that may seem). Just by interrupting the autopilot long enough to show up in our own day.

Maybe it’s standing on the porch for 60 seconds before the madness begins.
Maybe it’s not scrolling while you brush your teeth.
Maybe it’s actually tasting your coffee instead of mainlining it like it’s jet fuel.

Tiny things, barely noticeable things.
The kind of things we do for a week, forget for a month, then remember again when life smacks us with a sliding door lesson.

That’s the real midlife shift Sharon points toward: Not burning it all down or reinventing ourselves from scratch. Just…coming back.

If you’ve ever looked up at 2 p.m. and wondered who exactly lived the first half of your day, this conversation might feel like the breath you didn’t know you needed.

🎧 Listen to Episode 304: The Alchemy of Midlife with Sharon Kenney Rudy

XO,

Danielle

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