Where hustles hides

It's not just in your calendar

Hey friend,

Can you guess where I am?

I'm writing from the gorgeous island of St. Thomas. Lucky me!

You might be picturing me with a virgin pina colada in hand, sand between my toes, and a sunkissed glow about me.

And you’d be absolutely right.

There’s no shame in my game. Only pure and annoyingly obnoxious joy.

But this isn’t about island magic.

It’s not about the breeze or the slow mornings.
It’s about something I didn’t expect to feel here: a real shift.

Let me tell you what happened.

The kids were at camp. I was working remotely. The day wound down like usual. But that evening, I met up with a friend I hadn’t caught up with in a while.

We ended up talking for over three hours.

Not about to-do lists, business ideas or even the chaos of motherhood.

We swapped childhood stories. Laughed at things we hadn’t thought about in years.
We didn’t rush.
We didn’t check the clock.
We stayed out past our bedtime which, if you're a mom over 40, you know that’s no small thing. Your body starts whispering "wrap it up, girl" around 8pm.

But I couldn’t leave. Neither could she.

It just felt… easy.

And that night, as I got into bed, I kept thinking about that conversation.
Why was it so good?

Why did it feel like something important happened, even though nothing dramatic did?

And then it hit me:

I wasn’t rushing the moment to get to a result.

Or trying to finish her sentence.
Or trying to sound smart.
Or scanning my brain for something deep or helpful to say.

I was just being.

Letting her talk.
Letting the silence settle.
Letting time pass without needing to fill it.

And that’s when I realized:

I’ve been hustling in places I didn’t even know hustle could live.

Not just in my work.
Not just in motherhood.
But in the way I connect with people.

Even my conversations have had an agenda.
Even my listening has been on a timeline.
Even my eye contact has been one step ahead of right now.

Because hustle doesn’t only live in our calendars.

It hides in:

• The pauses we feel pressure to fill

• The urge to wrap things up quickly

• The way we plan our responses mid-sentence

• The tightness in our chest when the room goes quiet

And I didn’t notice it until I stopped.

When I speak slower, I think clearer.
When I listen longer, I connect deeper.
When I stop filling gaps, I actually hear people (and myself).

Turns out presence isn’t something you plan.
It’s something you practice.

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So here’s your gentle invitation this week:

Slow down in one conversation.
That’s it. Your whole homework.

Give it space to stretch out.
Let a silence linger.
Watch what happens.

And if it feels a little awkward?

Perfect.

That discomfort is your clue.
That’s where your hustle has been hiding.

And now that you see it, you get to choose differently.

This glow? Sponsored by presence, not perfection.

P.S. Where are you in the world as you’re reading this? And what’s one place in the world that helps you slow down?