She sold the kayak

Dana came to me about her sleep. Somewhere in the first session, she mentioned she'd sold her kayak.

She said it like it was nothing. Just a detail on the way to something else.

I asked her when it happened.

She had to think about it. Three years ago, she said. Maybe four.

She'd loved that kayak.

Every September she used to put in on the Eno on Saturday mornings, when the air finally cooled off and the water was still warm.

She didn't decide to stop. She just kept having a busier weekend than the last one.

And one spring she looked at it sitting in the garage and thought, well, I never use it.

Dana is a hospital administrator. She's extremely good at her job.

She'd tell you she has her life handled, and by most measures she does.

But her weekends had filled up with other people's needs.

Somebody always wanted something on a Saturday, and she was somebody who said yes.

Here's what I've seen over 30 years: The things that go first are the ones nobody else notices are gone.

Your calendar doesn't flag it. Nobody calls to ask why you stopped.

There's no argument, no decision, no moment when you chose it.

The Saturday just fills up with something else. And then it does that again, and one day the kayak is on Facebook Marketplace.

This is the season it tends to surface. Something about the light changing in September makes people think of what they used to do this time of year.

So here's a question worth sitting with this week: What did you used to do in the fall that you don't do any longer?

What did you love that you may have even forgotten about?

Give it a minute. The first answer that comes is usually the right one.

Then ask when you stopped. And notice whether you can even say why.

For most of the women I work with, the reason turns out to be one belief running underneath everything ...

That taking the Saturday would be selfish.

That other people's needs come first, automatically, without it ever going up for debate.

That belief was installed a long time ago. It runs on its own now.

And it's expensive.

Dana got her Saturdays back. She bought another kayak last spring.

Now it's your turn. Whatever you lost? Go get it back.