March 19th, 2026

Apparently, this week has been all about hair. Hair standing up on the back of dogs’ necks, hair covering the walls and the floors and the couches and the curtains (also dog related), hair being died and cut and changed (human, not dog), hairy in the sense that things got sticky, tough, troublesome, complicated.

It’s my first week in AZ, and I was going to be writing to you more about the “it’s always both” idea, but Reader, this week has been a giant, painfully hairy reminder of something very worth stating:

Change is friggin horrifying.

I wanted this - I keep telling myself as I stand in the room with two vacuums, an empty water bottle, tears and dust in my eyes. I chose this.

What I chose was to spend a month away from my little family’s home (Me, Caleb and Mei in Denver) to stay with big family in my former home (hello siblings, hello parents and grandparents, please remind me why you all insist on living somewhere with 105 temps in the middle of March?) What I picked was to frequently see people I love, to help them with their big projects and shift my perspective and approach around my own big project. I desired to shake things up a little and try something new for my small family and my big family and yet…

Yesterday I found myself in tears, planning out (anxiously spiraling around) which route I should take to drive back to Denver early and what I would tell clients. When I settled down, breathed fresh air, and ate some food, I ditched that idea and returned to the reality of what was in front of me, this time with a renewed appreciation of just how much living beings (me included) thrive on consistency, reliability, and predictability.

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To prevent worry, all is deeply fine here - but thus far nearly nothing about this trip has gone as planned since its inception as a concept way back in October, and I am feeling that. The hiccups have been minor - We left late - OH NO! But the drive was good - OH YAY except that we spent more than we budgeted for - OH NO! -on some great food and really fun gifts for the whole big family - OH YAY. We got to see our nephews and meet my brother’s dog and my sister’s dog for the first time - OH YAY - but my dog didn’t get along great with my brother’s dog so they were snapping multiple times a day - OH NO! - But all the dogs are okay and now we know where to focus next with our (humans who have a) dog training - OH YAY! Then we went to Phoenix as scheduled, but the place we were supposed to stay wasn’t ready yet - OH NO! - but we had a delightful back up at my mom’s place - OH YAY! - except it wasn’t set up for unexpected guests and she was dog sitting which Mei wasn’t thrilled about - OH NO! - but we were hugged and fed and it was very sweet - OH YAY!

I handled all of this rather well, so did Caleb, and Mei did the best she could. We all cracked - Caleb sneezed for a whole night instead of sleeping, Mei frothed at the mouth, and I just stared at a wall between pacing and sweeping - when we arrived at the place we were supposed to stay, only to discover that the whole thing was covered in about a year’s worth of old stinky dog residue. (Note to anyone who rents their home - if your instinct is “no pets”, stand by that policy)

The crying happened when I finished work the next day and started to vacuum, only to learn that both the vacuums available to me were simply spitting back out the mounds of dog hair and dust that had accumulated. It tipped over to full sob when I realized I hadn’t had water in about 8 hours because I was so irritated and out of it, and the bottle I went to sip from was empty.

I lost it. I wanted out. I planned for change. I planned for upheaval. I travel enough (and have been myself long enough) to have planned for my plans to go very awry, and to pivot at least 17/25 times. But I was not ready for mountains of dog hair, and I was not ready for 19/25 plans to need to pivot, and so the snot in my sinuses went from “I am plagued by external irritants” snot to “I am so sad AND I have external irritants” snot (which is drippier and shift the location of my headache, in case you were wondering).

Even when we really really really want the thing we are moving toward, we can still hate when the change comes. I am glad that I came on this trip (tenuously so, but it’s mounting). In a matter of hours, whatever disruptions occurred will be just about fully smoothed out, and the “plan” will be “back on track” as much as life can do that kind of thing.

I am fine now. Today, I let myself sleep in late, got my hair dyed and cut (because why not change things even more (and lean into the hairy theme)) and talked to a friend for a few hours before working. Why? To give my raw nervous system a positive association to the shift in routine, and just some time to chill out and not make any decisions for a moment. Very helpful. But it was what happened yesterday in the moments of and after crying that started the turn towards fine, and feel important to name.

I let the tears come (accept the moment you’re in!) I had some more water (everyone - drink water. Right now!!!), ate some food (and snack!), went for a walk (move your body, wiggle!), and leaned on community (remember you are one part of a bigger whole!). A kind neighbor lent us a vacuum, another one lent a mop and a bucket. My sister came down for moral support and mental clarity, and me and Caleb banged out some deep cleaning.

Notice how the things I’m talking about all the time - tending to your body, moving your body, engaging in your community - were the things that calmed this situation down.

Technically, the stressors were still all there. But the stress level I experienced was altered by the way that I related to it and the resources I was able to tap into.

We often talk about getting less stressed. Cut down on stress. Relax more. Take a break. Do some self care. I get it, those are neat reminders, and sometimes we can do them. But a lot of the time there is no way to get rid of the stressor, not right away anyway.

A lot of the things we struggle with in life are non negotiable. Jobs we need to make the money we need to buy the food, shelter, transportation, insurance (damn you, insurance!!) health care and access to other services we need to keep engaging as a human with the people and activities we care about.

Did you catch that “people and activities we care about” is at the end of that cascade? It makes sense that we try and fix things at the beginning of the cascade or the middle, but those are often places where we have a lot less agency to shift, or where the changes that will be supportive are not ones we feel immediately.

Our agency produces immediate impact on very few things in life, but very potent ones.

1. Attitude
2. Relationships
3. Bodies

Small adjustments we make in our attitude swiftly change the way we perceive and approach things - a simple question like, “what is the version of this story that makes me laugh” will make any scenario change as soon as you start to explore the question.

A tiny tweak in your outlook or output will alter the dynamic between you and people around you instantaneously. An outlook of “I will give my partner the benefit of the doubt” de-escalates or avoids nearly all points of confusion that lead to petty arguments or even big fights. Looking at your partner when you are talking together, or leaving your phone out of arms reach can create loads more connection and degrees of positive association between the two of you.

A few seconds of asking your body where it’s at and what it needs is enough to remind yourself to drink water, have a snack, stretch for a moment or let your eyes look at something besides a screen. Small bits of physical care every day - 5 minute walk, a handful more of spinach in your sandwich, an extra glass of water first thing in the morning - adds up to more comfortable, functional physical existence pretty quickly, and lasts a lifetime.

Change is hard, no matter how big or how small, how desired or unwanted. As humans - we crave it and we freak out about it. But over all we are highly adaptable creatures. As someone who regularly supports people with change, and who’s craving for and sensitivity to the new and different are on the higher end (yes, it is a delightful and painful combo), I have some pointers for you.

There’s quite a few actionable pieces of wisdom in that chunk of writing you just read through, and I hope you find it useful. Here’s a more direct and broadly applicable way of approaching change.

When going through any amount of change to your “normal”:

1. Have simple clear words about why you are making this change (if it was intentional). Orienting yourself to what you are aiming for is what will get you through the toughest parts, and get you to the sensations you want not just a new material reality.
   1. If it’s a change you didn’t want, staying clear on what matters to you - your core values in life - will help orient you to a method of coping and adapting to the change that’s been thrust upon you that is easier to integrate and less likely to cause lasting disruptions or even trauma.
2. Aim to make space in your mind, your schedule, and in your relationships for the funkiness that comes simply because things are breaking from routine.
3. Before the shift, identify 1-5 “points of consistency” - a food, a movement, a way you get dressed, a thing you watch, a person you can call - anything that will not be changing that you can pointedly lean on while other things are shifting.
4. In the middle of the change, pivot wisely. Sometimes you’ll need to adjust the plan to get to the desired outcome, so staying flexible with the plan but firm to your intention is key. Still, the plan was there for a reason, so resist the urge to optimize efficiency or people please when things first start getting bumpy.​
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You know I’m here to help you with what's changing, Reader. If you’ve ever thought, “maybe it would be cool to work with Kate”, you are correct according to the many clients who have done so, like K who says “Your work is really special, exactly what I’m needing, and I’ve never done anything like it in my 20+ years of healing.” Go for it, Reader. Take the leap and reach out. I’ll be here softening your landing.

Kate

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