microdosing joy, crash patterns, and the process of integration
Picture this:
You finally have the breakthrough—that lightning bolt moment where everything clicks.
Why you've been struggling.
Why you've been yearning for something different.
And what needs to change for you to feel aligned again.
It all makes perfect sense now.
There's a buzz of excitement and clarity.
This is it. This is the missing piece.
You can practically taste how good it's going to feel when you're living this new understanding.
So you dive straight into planning mode.
How fast can you implement this?
What's the most efficient path to get there?
Your mind races with possibilities and action steps and the beautiful life waiting on the other side of this breakthrough.
And then... you hit a wall. Hard.
I've been watching this pattern everywhere lately—in myself, in my clients, in the entrepreneurs I follow online.
The breakthrough followed by the immediate scramble to implement, followed by what feels like complete paralysis, reverting back to a level of self-doubt you thought you had conquered or overcome.
It happened to me just two weeks ago.
After my health scare and time away, I had this crystal-clear realization about how I'd been pushing my business in ways that weren't sustainable.
The insight felt so obvious, so right.
I was energized and ready to restructure everything immediately.
And then I couldn't make a single decision for days.
My first thought: "Am I just not disciplined enough to follow through?"
The self-judgment was swift and merciless. Here I am, helping other people build sustainable businesses, and I can't even implement my own breakthroughs without falling apart.
But what if this crash isn't a bug—what if it's a feature?
Breakthroughs require time to integrate, just like physical workouts require recovery.
Your nervous system needs time to rewire around new insights. Those neural pathways don't solidify overnight—they need space to develop without the pressure of immediate performance.
The "crash" isn't necessarily your psyche failing you. It's your psyche protecting the new growth from unsustainable patterns.
When we have a genuine breakthrough, our entire internal system shifts.
Old patterns get disrupted.
New possibilities emerge.
But forcing immediate implementation can actually prevent lasting change because we're asking our nervous system to do two massive things at once: integrate new understanding AND perform differently right away.
That's not failing at implementation. It's trying to skip over the integration.
Here's what I'm learning to do instead:
- After any breakthrough, schedule 3-7 days of gentle implementation. Not aggressive action, not complete overhaul. Gentle exploration of what this new insight might look like in practice.
- Give yourself permission to move slowly with new insights and witness what actually sticks versus what you think should stick.
If you've had any recent insights, give it a try and resist the urge to overhaul everything immediately.
Instead, pick one tiny way to experiment with that insight.
Notice how it feels. Let it settle.
The crash after the breakthrough isn't a failure of discipline. It's an invitation to honor how sustainable change actually happens.
BEHIND THE SCREENS
I was sitting on the deck drinking tea one morning this week and watching two butterflies constantly circling and fluttering around one another but not really connecting.
And it reminded me of how perfectionism can take over and keep me always circling, coming close to and then backing away from the things that bring me joy.
Never quite connecting with them for long.
It wasn't an eloquent dance of connection though, the way the butterflies do.
It was more a dance of getting just close enough while trying not to get burnt—the way you hover over a bonfire when roasting marshmallows, aiming for the perfect amount of caramelization.
We tell ourselves the things that bring us joy will burn us if we get too close.
That keeping a safe distance is the only way to experience them.
Perfectionism becomes the act of microdosing joy from an acceptable distance.
But I don't want to microdose joy anymore.
I want to be completely soaked in it. I want to do the things I love and the things I dislike with complete immersion.
To undistractingly and disgustingly focus on the things that make my soul sing—the comfortable and uncomfortable.
The butterflies reminded me that maybe connection doesn't have to be so exacting.
Maybe it's okay to stop constantly circling and just land.
CURRENTLY OBSESSED
- Lambeth Cakes. In a former life I made custom cakes in the evenings and weekends outside my corporate job. I've a draw to immerse myself in old creative disciplines (even if my abilities now are limited/different) and I've been loving the different ways lambeth-style piping has come back into style. This one, this one, and this one are just a few of my favorites. I'm especially obsessed with mini cakes and how lambeth translates on them.
- Thunderbolts*. I finally got to watch the movie, and there's one scene between Yelena and the Red Guardian talking about regrets, pain, and finding who we were before we hurt. How others can help us remember who we were before and how to find a bit of that joy in the present. The whole movie as a whole was a really interesting dive into how storytelling can illuminate how mental health impacts us and the struggles of being (or at least when we feel) all alone.
- Documenting Life. Growing up we didn't have money for cameras and film photos, so I have limited tangible memories from the first 16-17 years of my life. Maybe it's why I fell in love with photography and dark rooms in school. Maybe it is what cemented digital photos as the only acceptable form of documentation. Maybe it was none of the above. But lately I've felt like the documentation of my life, was so focused on photos, that I don't have a distinct way of seeing how my feelings have grown and changed over time. The before is murky and I'm just left with the after, if you will. So as I approach my 36th birthday and I feel the foundation of my life shifting beneath my feet, I'm playing around with other forms of documentation—voice notes, writing, journaling, yes photos but videos too, and various forms of creativity. Something that future me (or maybe someone other than me) can look back on for a more clear picture than the first 35 years of life.
P.S.
If you're drained from the constant cycle of insight → excitement → crash → self-judgment, you're not alone. Most of my clients discover they've been running on willpower and urgency instead of working with their natural energy patterns and timing.
The solution isn't just building better systems—it's building systems that work with how you're actually wired.
That's what my Energy Alignment Intensives are designed for. In this 90-minute session, we'll map your natural daily energy cycle, review your calendar together to make alignments, and dig into wherever you're feeling most stuck. It's like getting a mini personalized energy blueprint plus clarity on your next right step.
I have a handful of spots left before I adjust prices in August, you can book your spot now and schedule through the end of August for $288—the lowest this will ever be! Book your intensive here.
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