This year has been one for the books, and many of my CNBC Sisters are hurting, lonely, and questioning the value of their lives – to the edge. How painful it is to see my CNBC Sisters experience discrimination, bias, loss of value and self in a time filled with the unknown. There is so much grief, anxiety, hopelessness in the air.

You are seen, you are not lost.

I see you.

During my dark hours one winter, I would fall asleep on the couch before my husband could pull us off into bed. And when I awoke later, after much prodding, I was in a not-so-great state of mind. I needed a reminder, something to bring me back.

What did I need to do instead of dulling and checking out?

We took the white board in our kitchen and made a list of things that help bring me back to center, to return to (zazen, walking the dog, reading, yoga…), a list of successes/gratitudes, and a list of goals. It’s changed every year and is now a New Year’s tradition. We add to the board throughout the year, particularly if the direction has shifted.

In 2019, it was the most adventurous mind-map filled with drawings.We lived that year. My husband and I visited the San Francisco Japanese Gardens while I was attending a professional development workshop, had tea surrounded by spring in bloom and walked down unknown paths exploring images of striking beauty of ablue heron, turtles lying on the rock.

A few months later, on the way driving to the airport for a cousin’s wedding, we were hit by an out-of-control speeding truck on the highway.

We should have died that day but didn’t. I was driving - we skid over 400 meters, longer than a football field. With the side-impact, we should have flipped over,but our van stood straight. We should have hit something on the side of the road. We didn’t. I heard a voice from the universe, God, the divine, whatever your definition – It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re okay. We were shaken, we were a bit bruised and in shock. We lost our accessible van which we had worked so hard to purchase… and we were okay.

We went to NY anyway, though in shock and we weren’t able to explore in the way we had wanted. When we got home and after the shock dissipated, the universe was brighter, every moment a pure miracle. I walked to work passing a fairy tree in bloom and watched blossom puffs dance in the summer air.

That summer, during our vacation adventure to New Hampshire, I had organized a cabin concert with William Ackerman for my dad, a set of guitars laid out on the grass. My dad had no idea and when Will sat on the couch next to him, my dad was shocked. The next day, we had an accessible climb up Mt. Adams, the first climb up the mountain for my husband.

We travelled unexpectedly to Tucson AZ to see friends, driving up Mt. Lemmon in awe of the view.

Music took center stage and for my birthday - Chaka Khan was performing an outdoor concert. We sang the night away under the stars – the pinnacle moment was several thousands of people belting out “I’m Every Woman” at the top of our lungs. The anthem was so powerful and reverberated through my skin. For a moment, there was an inclusivity amongst women. We were all there together. We had each other’s backs.

And a few months later, we even re-lived our ‘80’s childhoods with New Kids on the Block, Tiffany, Debbie Gibson. Salt n’ Peppa. Now attending a concert seems impossible, but at the time, I sat on my husband’s lap and we danced the night away.

The winter, we traveled back to CA (delayed by fires) so my husband could audition for a leadership position - for a moment, challenging everything that was possible.

We lived the heck out of that year.

Since the Covid-environment hit, we’ve been quieter – reading to each other on the back porch. We splurged on a King memory foam bed. We pick up Starbucks and drive to a park every Saturday it’s not raining. Staring at the trees and reflecting on how it’s a miracle we arealive. It’s hard to downshift so much, but for our health, we needed to hibernate.

Our kitchen board looks like a brain, what are all the experiences that bring spaces of awe and profound joy.

Our bucket list has changed. While skydiving feels exhilarating, paragliding is now on the list. The places we want to visit have changed. We wonder how to get from here to there with a few wild and big dreams, and we don’t know how it will all turn out.

I share this to say that our lives have meaning – we give ourselves meaning. Don’t rely on others to do that. Define, redefine, blast through definitions of value. We can’t rely on others to determine how valuable we are or feel. We do that.

When we give into other’s definitions of who we should be, we lose ourselves. When I gave into the definition of what I was taught a woman ought to be, I fell into the dark night of the soul.

And so many people have opinions on having or not having children. Shut them out (easier said I know), because they don’t know you.

We can’t rush grief – we must give grief a voice, let it process through. We must walk through fire and give voice to all of the dreams that are broken. For me, it was sobbing alone in the van between work and home. At the time, I was faced with everything I could not have in my face every day. I could hardly breathe most days. If I could hold it and get to 5:30 without breaking down, it was a good day. I could break down in the car. The short drive home held tears and sobs breaking free.

Our experiences are each so different, and grief work processing will look so different. Yet, so often the grief work is halted or we get stuck in a grief loop. Grief work is so deep and it is fluid. Even if it moves to give enough space for one breath. That is enough. And the release can give more space. Space to choose.

And, when we are ready to shift focus, what is ready to give life?

(For me) I attended a workshop on processing a child-free life called What’s Dying to Be Born in Durango, CO, the place where years before, I let my mother’s ashes fly in the CO evergreens.  I loved the duality of coming to the place where I had let my mother go, to letting go of myself becoming a mother in the traditional sense. And, how much do I create, give life to, am passionate about?

Driving through Mesa Verde, reflecting on the wood after it’s been burnt and purified, the new growth sprouting. Ancient messages etched into the rock, their original meaning lost, finding a new one, what the on-looker sees. On a short day-drive through the mountains, I stopped on an overlook on the side of the road. I walked into the snow-covered mountain top arms out wide, twirling and dancing, feeling so free.

Dancing on the mountain top – I Am Alive!

The crisp sharpness of melting spring deep in my breath.

What new growth are we denying ourselves? There is so much to be created, designed, loved into being.

It’s not up to the world – they won’t see how much beauty is inside. They can only see in one shade. And I – you –we – are sparking colored light. 

It’s up to us.

To give ourselves value. To see our beauty, our tenacity, our perseverance, our heart, our love, our value.

Mine hasn’t fully developed yet – maybe a podcast or more written stories. Maybe in challenging those we meet.

On one of our rare ventures out, my husband and I sat on the small covering / stairs at the beach. We greeted so many people as we watched the waves that day. And our impact was clear.

We never know where or how we will impact the world, or where our hidden super-powers will be needed or used.

To my CNBC and Child-Free Sisters, don’t give up.

You are powerful beyond being.

I see you.

Much love,

Much love,
Megan M. Cutter