On This Day, I Celebrated
Here’s me celebrating one of those small wins — a quiet moment that felt like enough.
Hello Courageous Thrivers,
“Do you have 30 minutes available to celebrate with me?” I asked Dave — my husband — when I got home from class.
He did.
It was the middle of a Monday — not a time for cocktails or even a long walk — so we headed to a nearby coffee shop.
We let go of perfectionism and did what we could.
It wasn't nothing for us to take the pause - to celebrate a small win.
Why Small Celebrations Matter
It was an intentional step on my part — to take in the soul nourishment available in that moment.
To acknowledge a win I had worked hard for, and to revel in the joy of being witnessed by someone I love.
The past two months I’ve been more student than teacher, and I’ve kept showing up.
The image I have of what’s been happening — through the failures, missteps, and external challenges — is of a stripping away.
Not like clothes stripped off to nakedness, but like scaffolding being dismantled.
Structures that once held me up but now limit how I can move, see, and respond.
At the same time as those supports are being stripped away, I’ve been bringing in new ones — more nourishing, more flexible.
Supports that cultivate a power held within my body, mind, and spirit.
I am getting stronger — emotionally, spiritually, energetically.
I’m becoming more able to stay grounded when people’s trauma causes them to project onto me harms I haven’t caused — and to stay present when I have caused harm.
When Privilege and Pain Coexist
Especially when that harm stems from the privileges I hold that make it harder to notice how my actions might land with people who live in different identities than I do.
Especially my white privilege.
Also, my class privilege.
And my able-bodied privilege.
Maybe you can relate.
Maybe you’ve needed layers of protection to keep your rejection-sensitive self from collapsing under the weight of others’ suffering.
Or under the truth of how you’ve benefitted while others have lost.
Maybe you suffer intensely every day — even though from the outside it seems you should be relaxed and happy.
After all, you have a nice home, a car, organic groceries, and you don’t freak out when the dentist gives you a $300 bill. You might not like it, but you can pay it — even if it goes on your credit card.
And yet somehow, you’ve ended up with a heart, brain, and body that make it hard to even get up — let alone go out and fight for justice.
Here’s what I want to say to you — and I’m still working this out myself, so these are thoughts-in-process.
We can berate ourselves for being too privileged to feel so bad, so tired, so depressed.
But it doesn’t help a single cause we care about.
It doesn’t help any of the humans we care about.
It just freezes us in shame and exhaustion.
What if we experiment with believing a both/and as we move forward?
You’re not broken or unworthy.
You don’t need to be fixed.
You don’t have to prove your value or worthiness — not even a little.
Right now, in all your imperfections, you are already valuable.
And — your actions are needed in the world.
You can take steps to capacitate yourself to take them.
How Self-Compassion Builds Capacity
For those of us who lean toward shame, depression, or collapse (even if it doesn’t look that way to others), building capacity often starts with self-compassion and deep nourishment of body, heart, and soul.
That doesn’t mean running off to another retreat, buying another t-shirt with the perfect saying, or numbing with chocolate or wine.
The tricky thing is that sometimes — any of those things might be exactly what’s needed.
No one else can tell you whether your choice is strengthening you or keeping you in powerlessness.
But you can start noticing.
And then, you can start choosing consciously and imperfectly — to nourish your power more often.
Before you have any more capacity than you do right now, you can still lean gently into learning and discomfort.
Especially if you are sensitive.
One small step each week is fifty-two new steps in a year.
One a day? That’s 365.
Gentle Steps Toward Empowered Action
If you’re a hearing person, here’s one gentle step you could take:
I’m currently reading the novel True Biz, a birthday gift from my earliest best friend, Kara Bolonda.
We had the best introvert-style birthday celebration — two hours at the woman-owned Ivy Bookshop, where we bought each other books.
The story takes place at a school for the Deaf and includes mini-lessons in American Sign Language and Deaf history, all woven into a powerful narrative.
I’m learning a lot — like how people who sign need to walk slightly apart so they can see each other and keep signing while in motion.
If you want liberation for all of us — yourself included — here’s another gentle step you can take:
Honestly, if you’re a white person with $20, you don’t need to overthink this one.
Pay the money.
At minimum, you’ve supported a Black woman doing courageous, compassionate work.
At best, you’ll show up, experience her magic, connect with fellow liberators, and end the year stronger.
Here’s to thriving and equity,
and to gentleness with persistence.
Deb
Reflection: The Power of Small Celebrations
Q: Why do small celebrations matter for healing?
A: Because they train our nervous system to feel safety in success, not just vigilance against failure.
Q: How can perfectionists practice self-compassion?
A: By celebrating imperfect progress and remembering that rest and joy are forms of resistance, not indulgence.
If you’re exploring what it means to build capacity and self-compassion, learn more about my 1:1 coaching here.