Momentum in the Mess: Finding Power in the Shift

This week, I found myself standing alone in my closet packing up donation bags and surrounded by the ghosts of who I once was. The business suits, rigid and well worn, hung like artifacts from a version of me that once chased big rooms and bigger deals. I remember how proud I was to afford them, how powerful they made me feel walking into meetings I now no longer choose to lead. On the shelf below, all of those super skinny jeans that once hugged a body I sculpted with relentless discipline. A body I no longer have, yet no longer need to validate my worth. Those curves, that control, those clothes that I used to think they defined me, no longer matter. They were just costumes for chapters that have come to a close. And this week, I gave myself permission to let them go.

In parallel this week, I let go of a cake. There was this cake that was ordered with joy, and delivered with love, yet  quietly left behind in the fridge when life did what it does. The remission party I had imagined gave way to everyday chaos: last-minute packing, family drama, forgotten responsibilities and well, just life. 

We left town, and the cake stayed behind, untouched all weekend. When I opened the fridge days later and saw it still sitting there, a pang of sadness washed over me. Not one enjoyed the bite. It felt so heavy staring back at me. I ate a piece on my own out of responsibility to that poor cake. Days later, the amazing fresh carrot taste was long gone.

We had failed a bit. We hadn’t celebrated “right.” We hadn’t marked the moment as big as we should have. 

But then I realized, it was never about the cake. It’s not about the one big day. It’s about every day that comes after. The real celebration isn’t icing and balloons—it’s waking up to the gift of more life, more time, more chance to live it fully. That’s what I’m celebrating now. Every quiet, chaotic, miraculous day of it.

And lastly that dear Jeep of mine. Ever a symbol of freedom, adventure, and a season of my life I’ve cherished. After my first sickness, during COVID, a symbol of youth and survival and living my best life.

Yes, we are coming to the conclusion that it’s time to let it go. It’s practical (my daughter needs a car for college) but it’s also deeply personal. I have fought it every step of the way.

That Jeep has been more than just a vehicle; it’s carried me through years of spontaneity, road trips without roofs or doors, and feeling like anything was possible. As I anticipate handing over the keys, I feel the weight of that goodbye. 

But I also feel the pull of something new. I’m not saying farewell to joy, I’m making space for a new kind of joy, a new kind of purpose. One that’s rooted not in what I drive, but in where I’m headed, and who I’m becoming.

Turning Letting Go Into Lift-Off

So all in all, when life shifts the road beneath you, shift with it. This week reminded me that forward motion doesn’t always look like charging ahead. Sometimes, momentum starts when you finally stop clinging to what no longer fits. 

Kinetic energy isn’t about speed—it’s about direction. It’s about movement with meaning.

As I stood in the middle of my closet, cake untouched in the fridge, and the Jeep keys soon to be handed over, I had a choice. I could mourn what was lost, I could feel mad and stripped from what should have been for me… or I could ask a different question:

What can I make from what’s left?

This wasn’t just a moment of release. It was a spark. And that’s the beautiful thing about momentum, it doesn’t always roar in. Sometimes it hums quietly behind a closet door. Sometimes it rises when you say, “I’m ready to move differently.”

In Bring Your Big Energy, I wrote about how real power is created by how we move and how we choose. That energy, which I call Kinetic Energy lives in every decision to get back up, repack the pieces, and build forward. Not with the same plan, but with the same soul.

Exercise: Move Forward with Meaning (Kinetic Energy: Chapter)

Try this momentum-mapping moment of reflection:

1. Name one thing you’ve outgrown—physically, emotionally, or mentally.

2. Ask yourself: “What energy would be freed up if I let this go?”

3. Then write this sentence: “By releasing [old thing], I am making space for [new action or energy].”

4. Move—literally: Take a walk, dance, stretch, or shift your body as a signal to your brain that you're creating new momentum.

5. Commit to one small action that supports your next right step.

   
   

Letting go isn’t an ending—it’s a transfer of energy. We don’t stop moving; we shift how we move. We rechannel. We reimagine. We build something better from the mess. That’s how we bring our big energy—not in perfection, but in motion.

Here’s to using what you’ve got to spark your next bold move.

Big love,

Stacey

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