Every Sunday morning, you’ll find me at my favorite table at my favorite coffee shop, doing what I call my Sunday morning planning. It’s my ritual, the one that grounds me for the week ahead (I’ve written about it before, if you’re curious you can find that post here).

By now—three years into this ritual—I know most of the baristas, and they know me. They know my usual Sunday order: small, dark roast, black please. That first cup is one of my greatest pleasures. Honestly, thinking about it is often what gets me out of bed on a Sunday morning.

This morning, though, when they handed me my cup, I took a sip and discovered it wasn’t black. It was milky.

And so came the question: Should I just drink the coffee?

Walking up the stairs in my house the other day, I noticed a ball of dust and dog hair in the corner of a step. I saw it out of the corner of my eye and kept walking. Later that afternoon, I noticed it again. And then again the next morning. And one more time before I finally picked it up.

Now in my defense, the first time I had walked up the stairs, I had something in my hands and the second time, I was on my way to do something. But, if I’m going to be really honest, with you and with myself, I just didn’t feel like bending over and picking up the dustball.

I was writing an email to a client this morning and stumbled over the right way to spell busyness. It just looked wrong to me as I wrote it, so I did a quick Google search and discovered that one of the most common misspellings of the word busyness is buzzyness. That made me laugh because it seems exactly right: when I’m caught up in my busyness, I’m not grounded, focused, or calm. I’m buzzing.

Years ago, I read a novel about vampires and demons.

In this story, demons were beings who fed on drama, intrigue, and the suffering of others. The smart ones chose professions that gave them a steady diet of emotional upheaval—homicide detectives, emergency room doctors, crime reporters. Their needs were regularly met by the natural chaos of their work, so they functioned fairly well in the world. But the others?

A client said something to me recently that made me pause.

“You’re so disciplined,” she said.

She meant it as a compliment, and I received it as one. But I also pushed back because I don’t think of myself as disciplined.

I don’t white-knuckle my way through early mornings. I don’t force myself to do things I hate. I don’t subscribe to hustle-for-hustle’s-sake.

Instead, I’ve built routines—small, intentional ones—that make me feel better, move me forward, and (this is important) that I actually enjoy.

As Eric and I launch our latest venture, I’m reflecting on what has changed since the New York Times featured us in an article titled Joint Venture Couples Live By Special Martial Rules. That was more than 20 years and four businesses ago. What have we learned? What has changed?

After more than a quarter of a century during which I’ve introduced Eric as my husband and business partner, we’ve developed some very specific strategies that help us work and live together happily and productively.

Here’s the top 10 list.

When I was a teenager, my dad used to bribe my friends and me to stay home on a Saturday night.

"Hey kids, how about we order pizza? Chinese food? Should we make a fire in the fireplace and you guys can just hang out here?" he'd say.

It was a lovely gesture — and honestly, it often worked. My parents worked hard to make our house a place where my friends were always welcome.

But the truth is, these warm invitations from my dad came in large part from a place of fear. He wanted us home, safe in the living room. He didn’t want us out on the roads, at parties, or anywhere he couldn’t protect us.

I was raised to believe that fear is the best motivator.

About 1 million years ago, I was wrestling with what I believed (at 23) to be the biggest, most important decision of my life. The weight of it felt crushing. So, naturally, I got on a plane and flew to Florida to talk it through with the two people who knew me best and who also happened to be my biggest cheerleaders: my parents.

We spent the weekend dissecting every angle. Pros, cons, potential consequences, imagined outcomes. I repeated the same thoughts over and over. I had an answer to every question they asked and an objection to every suggestion they made. As always, my parents were insightful and patient. Exceptionally patient. Even as I looped through the same arguments for the fifth or fiftieth time.

Finally, at one point, I threw my hands up and said in frustration, “You don’t understand! This is the biggest decision of my life!”

Nearly three decades ago, I was taking a walk with my uncle. At the time, he was a seasoned entrepreneur, and I was more like a fledgling entrepreneur. We were talking about the typical challenges of the entrepreneurial journey – I’m sure I was complaining about how incredibly busy I felt all the time, running from meeting to meeting, answering a daily avalanche of emails – all the flotsam and jetsam of early entrepreneurial days.

He offered advice that I have since heard in a multitude of ways from a multitude of sources: don’t let the urgent take over the important. Yes, yes, I thought, that is precisely the problem.

Last week, I sent an email to a high-profile thought-leader asking if I could interview her for my new book. It was a reach -- she’s a bestselling author, hosts one of the most popular podcasts in the pod-o-sphere and is clearly a very, very busy person. I almost didn’t bother sending the email.

But then I remembered a lesson that we have tried to teach our kids: you don’t ask, you don’t get. And it got me thinking about how often we talk ourselves out of asking for something we want.

This time of year, many of us set out with the best intentions—call them resolutions, call them goals. We commit to achieving something we deeply want, envisioning the transformation these goals promise. Yet, so often, these aspirations are left unfulfilled, and goals are left uncrushed.

Why? What keeps us from accomplishing our well-intentioned goals?

The truth is, the obstacles can usually be found in one or more of the three key stages of goal-setting and goal-getting. Let’s break them down.

While you don’t have to wait for a birthday, a milestone, or a new year to set goals or make changes in your life, there is something about those moments that provide an opportunity for reflection, contemplation, and planning. 

The start of a new year presents the perfect opportunity for that. Here’s EXACTLY how to do that.

About a dozen years ago, a friend recommended The Miracle Morning by Hal Elrod. “Seriously,” she said, “it’s changed my life.” I was skeptical, but curious. Until then, the idea of a structured morning routine had never even crossed my mind. Sure, I had a default routine: get up, brush teeth, drink coffee, check email, feel overwhelmed, get dressed, and head to work. Functional? Maybe. Intentional? Not so much.

Was there a better way? I was willing to find out.

Most Sunday mornings, you’ll find me tucked into my favorite table at Starbucks with two notebooks and my laptop. It’s my weekly planning ritual—a focused 45 minutes that sets the tone for a week that feels calm, productive, and aligned with not only my goals but also how I want to move through life.

It’s a ten-step process. I know that sounds like a lot, but trust me, it takes less than an hour. These ten steps didn’t come together overnight; they’ve been fine-tuned over the years to create a system that works for me. As I always say: take what resonates and leave the rest.

Ready? Let’s dive in.

When I was in school, I loved the start of a new semester. There was something magical about a blank notebook—the promise and opportunity it held. More importantly, it felt like a blank slate, a chance to start over, set new goals, and chase them with fresh determination.

For many years, I missed that feeling—that sense of possibility and renewal. But I’ve found a way to recapture it: my monthly planning ritual.

Several months ago, I was walking with my friend Helen (something we do frequently) when she offered this pearl of wisdom: “Look behind you, but don’t stare.” It’s a simple reminder to reflect on where we’ve been, learn from our experiences, and honor the journey—but without getting stuck in the past. It’s been percolating in my mind ever since.

Last spring, I spent a week surfing in Cabarete, a vibrant beach town on the north coast of the Dominican Republic. Though I love surfing, I’m not particularly good at it. So, I enlisted the help of a local surf instructor named Tito because I’m all about getting the right coaching to improve. (And maybe that’s a third lesson, but I digress.)

At the end of the week, I walked away with two lessons that go far beyond surfing.

I started weight training when I was 18 and haven’t stopped since. For years, I would be the only woman in the weight room of the gym. I loved the way picking up and putting down heavy things made me feel — strong and lean. I loved being able to open jars for my mother, carry things up the stairs and being able to hoist my bag into the overhead compartment of a plane.

Finally, the research and the world are catching up with the invaluable benefits of strength training for women of all ages, but especially for those of us in our 50s, 60s and beyond. — benefits that go far beyond just building muscle.

“Wanna’ go for a walk and fight?” I asked Eric one Sunday morning. It was mid-pandemic, our business had hit several major speed bumps, and we had two teenagers living under our roof – one of whom was supposed to be away at college. Tempers were short and tensions were high.

Eric looked at me and sighed. “Okay,” he said.

For several months, Eric and I had been heading out on walks together, usually two-and-a-half miles down a favorite dirt road. Invariably, I was the one who suggested it and often our conversations deteriorated into disagreements, arguments, or stormy silence. Eric had come to dub them “walk and fights.” And yet, we kept taking those walks together.

Some days we need to be reminded that less is more and that rest and recovery are as important as work and effort. But. Other days we need to be reminded that doing the work is essential to accomplishing the goals because meaningful accomplishments require meaningful work.