The last time I wrote for Cinnamon Spirit was January 2019. I’ve been trying to figure out how to sum up the seven and a half years since and I am going to struggle to be concise and thoughtful.

Some of it is easy to report. Covid reshaped the world. I started a technology company called Serendip and we built a couple of products. I joined the board of Grace Girls Home, an orphanage in Trinco. More and more people are celebrating the beauty of dark skin, which I love to see. And all of us got quietly pulled into the anxious churn of social media, unpredictable global economics, wars and pointless busywork.

Some of it isn’t easy to report at all. My mother’s dementia progressed to where she no longer recognizes any of us. I can’t pretend the impact of that has slowly ground me down like the constant sound of dripping water in a torture chamber.

The one gift buried inside that has helped me cope has been the flexible schedule that allows me to show up, more than I ever had before, for her, for my husband and kids and in-laws,  for my siblings,  my friends from around the world and my local community.

I got the time with Mom and Mom got a version of me she can’t quite place.

And then there’s the thing I’m still working out. Somewhere in these years an abundance mindset unleashed me, and I mean that in both directions. It’s the engine behind the company and the board seat and the showing up. It’s also why I can’t seem to sit still long enough to feel content.

I’m worried about not doing enough. Not making a few dreams the reality and yet, I consume more content in the form of podcasts, reels, shows and movies than I have ever done before. How do I balance things out?  We help clients build new digital experiences every single day, and I still feel a lack when it comes to making something of my own. Maybe it’s AI, and how much I lean on it to sharpen my thinking. Could it be cramping my style?

So why re-up Cinnamon Spirit? I was listening to the ten-year anniversary episode of Scott Galloway’s No Mercy / No Malice, and he nudged me back toward the written word. Here I am, taking the nudge.

Today, this is what I sit with. I am grateful for this life, for our health, my family, the wealth, the access to knowledge. All of it is real and I don’t take it lightly. And yet the gratitude and the restlessness live side by side, and most days I can’t tell if they’re fighting or helping each other. Maybe that’s what I’ll write about first.