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Lately, I’ve found myself feeling a little nostalgic about Christmas.

This time of year brings a strange contrast. Everywhere you turn, people seem to be celebrating—gathering with family, sharing meals, laughing at holiday parties, posting photos filled with joy and connection. 

Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday. No gifts, no pressure—just people you care about, gathered around good food, shared laughter, and that comfortable kind of camaraderie that comes from sharing a table together.

When I first started hosting Thanksgiving in my mid-20s, I went all in. I wanted the experience to be perfect, so everyone else could just show up and enjoy. I considered that my gift to the people I love.

We’ve all done it — put off the email we know we need to send, avoided the conversation that’s weighing on us, or suddenly felt an urgent need to organize our desk instead of starting that project with real stakes.

Sixteen years ago, during a long weekend in San Miguel de Allende, I stumbled into one of the most beautiful traditions I’d ever seen. The plaza was alive with color. There were vibrant marigolds, candles flickering in the twilight, photos of smiling faces long gone, favorite foods carefully arranged, and tiny keepsakes that once belonged to the people being remembered.

Maybe you’ve seen it in someone you care about — or felt it yourself. It’s the quiet moment when a person stops believing things can get better. The spark fades. Conversations shift from “This is hard” to “Why bother?”

I recently read a post by poet John Roedel (I really enjoy his work) that made me smile and sigh at the same time. He wrote about self-publishing — how he loves creating but struggles with the business side. Marketing, trends, bestseller lists? Not his thing. His books come straight from the heart, not from chasing what’s hot. And he’s made peace with that.

If you’ve ever taken a personality test like Myers-Briggs, DiSC, or StrengthsFinder, you know the drill. You answer a bunch of questions, get a four-letter code, a color, or a list of traits, and walk away thinking, “Okay, that sounds like me.”

But then the insight fades. You may remember your label or color, but it doesn’t change how you approach conversations, decisions, or leadership.

Today’s the day!  I’m excited to share that our new book, Be the Leader You Were Born to Be, is now available on Amazon in both e-book and paperback formats.

Leadership has always fascinated me—not because of titles or positions, but because of the impact it has on people. To me, leadership is about creating momentum, sparking vision, and influencing outcomes in a way that helps others step into their own spotlight.