What If Work Wasn’t the Center of Your Life?

A few years ago, I wouldn’t have even asked this question. Work was the center of my life, without hesitation or apology. Every calendar decision, every to-do list, every ounce of energy was filtered through the question:
“How does this help me grow my business(es)?”

That made sense at the time. I had a private practice to run. A brand to build. A reputation to maintain. Employees to support. And to be honest, there’s a sense of pride and identity that comes with all of that.

But somewhere along the way, life changed.

Motherhood Reorders Everything

When I became a mom, things started to shift. It didn’t happen overnight, not in a dramatic “aha” moment, but slowly. Subtly. Then all at once.

First, it was one child. Then came twins. Suddenly I wasn’t just a business owner trying to juggle a packed schedule or manage a team . I was someone’s safe place. Someone’s source of comfort at 2 a.m. and 5 a.m. and 6:15 a.m. I was a mother managing take-ups, toddler meltdowns, preschool prep, and the soft, sacred work of just being there. Babies don’t care about business hours or launch dates. They don’t care what your to-do list says. They care about presence. They have a way of commanding your attention in the most honest, non-negotiable way. They refocus your energy. You see what truly matters. And before you know it, that meeting or email or "urgent" call doesn’t feel so urgent anymore.

It forced me to stop and ask:

What am I doing all of this for, really?

Because if I build an empire but miss out on the softness of these early years… was it worth it?

Burnout Isn’t Always About Failure

Somewhere along the way, I realized I was burnt out. Not because I was failing, but because I had succeeded at something that no longer aligned with the life I was building.

And I’m not alone. Right here in Washington, D.C., patients and colleagues alike are sharing stories of job loss, federal program shutdowns, families moving back in together to survive rising costs. We’re all being stretched thin emotionally, financially, and spiritually.

This is a season that’s demanding realignment. A season that invites us to slow down and ask better questions.

One book that helped me find language for this feeling is The Mountain Is You by Brianna Wiest. It explores how we often sabotage ourselves through overwork and misplaced values and how healing comes from climbing your personal mountain with compassion, not hustle.

The Case for Slow Work

I’ve been deeply inspired by what Myleik Teele and Matt Gottsman recently shared in their respective writings about slow work. Myleik says she’s not interested in rushing anything anymore. She calls herself a “crockpot,” and I love that. Because the things that really matter: clarity, confidence, deep connection - don’t come fast. They come with simmering. They come with sitting in discomfort. They come with letting go of urgency and trusting that what’s meant for you won’t miss you.

Matt echoed this idea in a different way. He talked about how speed has become the default metric for value in our society. We want instant responses, instant success, instant meaning.

But what’s real takes time. What lasts takes intention.
Fast work creates noise.
Slow work builds substance.
Soul. Sustainability. Presence.

This message echoes the heart of another book I recommended to my community:
The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry by John Mark Comer.
This book argues that hustle culture is costing us our spiritual, emotional, and relational health and that deep peace only comes when we slow down. It’s not a productivity hack; it’s a lifestyle shift. One I’m still learning to practice.

A Life That Can Hold You

That’s what I’m building now. Not a bigger life.
A life that can hold me.

Hold my children.
Hold my purpose.
Hold my joy and exhaustion at the same time.
Hold my healing.

I don’t want a life that looks good but feels hollow. I want one that breathes, even if that means producing less, posting less, rushing less. Even if that means saying no to opportunities that would’ve once thrilled me.
Even if that means making work one part of my identity, not the whole.

An Invitation to Realign

Maybe you're feeling this too. Maybe success doesn’t look the way it used to. Maybe you’ve achieved things that still left you feeling tired, unclear, or unfulfilled.

I’ll leave you with this:

The world will keep telling you to speed up.
Your body, your spirit, and your family might be telling you to slow down.

Listen.

Let the question breathe.
What would your life look like if it was built for you. Not your job title, not the expectations of others, but you?

It’s not an easy shift. But it’s one I believe in with my whole heart.
And I’m making it, one quiet step at a time.