Nov 1, 2026 · @Dr Rosalie Welcome to the beginning of the end of the year Aloha, and happy November. Today is the first of the month, the forty-fourth Sunday of 2026, and there are exactly nine Sundays left this year, including today. I did not plan to begin November with a number, but the number is the point. Nine Sundays is not a lot. Nine Sundays is also enough. A particular feeling arrives when the calendar turns to November. The year is no longer young; the plans we made

For weeks now, I have been catching up—to these Sundays, to my own unfolding, to a life reorganized by distance and the strange grace of new geography. Hawaii rewrote the map. The dissertation became memory, its defense a threshold already crossed. And somewhere in that crossing, something shifted in how I understand readiness itself. Readiness is not a state of perfect preparation. Readiness is an arrival—a moment when you recognize, with some clarity, that you have the comp

October 4, 11, and 18, 2026 Three Sundays have passed since my last entry, and I did not write about them as they happened. I want to gather them now, because looking back, I can see the same thread running through all three: a stubborn, quiet possibility that kept showing up when I was not looking for it. Daniel Goleman (1995) argues that emotional intelligence is partly the ability to notice our own emotional states and to shift them, rather than being carried along by them

Every scary movie has the same lesson: the people who survive are the ones with a plan. Paying for school works the same way. Whether you are an adult returning to the classroom, a student in a specialty or trade program, or a traditional scholarship seeker, fear is not the problem. Having no plan is the problem. This month, do not just read. Follow the steps. Week 1: Face the Monster (File the FAFSA) The 2027-28 FAFSA is open now. It opened on September 23, 2026, and it uses

I have missed three Sundays. There are two ways I could tell that story. In the first, I fell behind. The woman who promised herself a year of Sundays let the calendar outrun her, and the blank weeks prove she could not keep up. In the second, the season was so full of dissertation, defense, clients, classrooms, and grandchildren that the Sundays did not disappear. They piled up like unopened letters, each one waiting to be read in its own time. Both versions use the same fac

Father’s Day, Masculine Energy, and the Power of Presence This 25th Sunday arrives on Father’s Day, making this week a meaningful time to reflect on masculine energy and the gifts it brings into our lives. This was a good week. A strong week. A productive week. As I reflected on Father’s Day, I found myself thinking not only about fathers, but about the broader energy of fathering—the energy of strength, structure, protection, wisdom, and provision. Masculine energy, at its h

There's a particular kind of vulnerability in objective attention — in holding a clear picture of who you're becoming and walking toward it with intention. But intention alone doesn't carry you the whole way. At some point, you have to let go of the map and trust the path. That's where these two Sundays met me — and, as it happens, where a birthday met me too. I'll admit I nearly let it pass without pausing to mark it properly, which feels like its own small lesson: even the

Holding a Vision of Yourself So Firmly That Doubt Cannot Find a Seat I am happy to report that life has been lively, and I have been keeping up. The days are full, the mile gets walked, and gratitude keeps showing up on schedule. But these past three weeks have given me something more than busyness. They have given me a concept I keep turning over in my mind like a smooth stone: objective attention. Here is what I mean by that: Most of us spend our days in subjective attentio

Today I have been playing with a thought from the philosopher Alan Watts. He observed that we draw quality out of simplicity, yet we kill ourselves suffering for the complex. And he offered an image I cannot put down: if you try to grip water, it falls out of your hands. Clutch at it and you lose it. The swimmer who grabs the water sinks; the swimmer who relaxes into it floats. I have been both swimmers. I know the gripping season well. The overloaded calendar defended like t

Gratitude, Presence, and a Life Full Enough to Slip a Little Well, life spins up, some things take priority, and my blog slipped. Three weeks have come and gone, and here I am, finally sitting down to write. I could apologize for the gap, but instead I am choosing to celebrate what caused it: a life so full of activity that the days ran right past me. What a blessing that is. Not everyone gets to say their calendar overflowed with purpose, people, and things worth doing. So r

Comparison Ends Where Gratitude Begins This week taught me a different way to practice gratitude. Like many people, I occasionally find myself comparing my life to someone else's. It happens so quietly that I sometimes do not even notice it. Someone has a larger garden. Someone has better health. Someone has more time, more resources, or appears to have life all figured out. Comparison has a way of stealing our peace before we realize it. Then, during a quiet moment of reflec

Time, Presence, and Living Fully in the Moment Life feels like it is spinning forward. Lately, I sit down with every intention of completing my planned tasks. I begin the day with structure, focus, and purpose. Then suddenly, in what feels like the blink of an eye, it is bedtime. I sometimes wonder if there is a mystical force at work—one that speeds up certain days and slows down others. Some days beautifully, allowing room to breathe, reflect, and accomplish. Other days dis

What Is Happening Beneath the Surface? This week, my garden gave me another lesson. I have been enjoying gardening more than I have in years. Like life itself, some days I am full of energy and enthusiasm, and other days I fizzle out. My knees remind me that I am not twenty anymore. The Georgia heat arrives with determination. Some days the work seems effortless, and other days it feels like a challenge. Yet I keep planting. I keep watering. I keep showing up. This week, I st

Trusting the Growth You Cannot Yet See This was an awesome week. I felt productive, energized, and grateful. One of the highlights was spending time in the garden. My flowers are finally beginning to emerge, and the intermittent rain has been working its quiet magic. Each day seems to reveal a little more growth, a little more color, and a little more promise. As I watched the garden this week, I realized that it was reflecting life itself. There are seasons when everything a

Expectations, Patience, and Discovering More Than You Imagined This week reminded me of the classic story Acres of Diamonds by Russell Conwell—a story that teaches us that the treasures we seek are often much closer than we realize. Ironically, I almost missed the lesson entirely. For several weeks, I had been frustrated with my flowers. They were not blooming the way I had envisioned. The areas where I planted seemed sparse, uneven, and disappointing. To make matters more ch

Presence, Stewardship, and the Courage to Begin There is a version of you that is waiting. Waiting until the timing is right. Waiting until the funding comes through. Waiting until you feel ready. Waiting until someone permits you to begin. I know that version. I have been that version. But this week reminded me of something powerful: Readiness is not a destination. It is a decision. We tell ourselves beautiful lies: “Once I have more resources, I will launch.” “Once I have

At ImagineNewGreatness (ING), one of our ongoing goals is helping students, families, and lifelong learners discover meaningful scholarship opportunities that align with their passions, values, and future aspirations. Scholarships are not simply about funding education — they are about opening doors, building confidence, and creating access to experiences that can transform lives. This week’s scholarship spotlight highlights The Atlas Prize for Independent Thought, a global c

Good times are restorative times. This week reminded me of something very simple, yet very important: life works better when I actually listen to myself. I tend to focus intensely on tasks and responsibilities. Once I begin working on something, I can lose track of time completely—even skipping meals and ignoring signs that my body is asking for rest or nourishment. This week, I made a different choice. I decided to listen to my body. I exercised daily. I nourished myself wit

Mothering Spirit, Gratitude, and the Blessing of Life Life is a glorious gift. Living comes with lessons, opportunities, joys, and challenges. Some days feel effortless and full of light, while others require strength, patience, and faith. Yet through it all, one truth remains constant: God is good. There is grace in waking up each morning. Grace in another breath. Grace has another opportunity to grow, expand, and thrive. At the same time, distractions are always nearby, wai

This week, two simple thoughts filtered into my mind and shifted how I see situations. The first came while watering my plants: Remove the kink. As I stood there with the hose, I noticed something so simple yet so profound. Even when the water source is strong, steady, and abundant, the smallest kink in the hose can slow—or completely block—the flow. The source does not change. The supply does not diminish. Only the obstruction interferes. And then it clicked. How often in l