Empty Nest - Grasshopper

You ever notice how more and more adult children are living at home longer these days? That’s been my story too–until recently.

And now . . . I guess I’m officially what they call an “empty nester.”

That label got me thinking. What does it even mean now? I mean, sure, factually, the house is emptier. 

They’re gone. But what does it really mean?

Well, for me, on the surface–I miss them terribly. Of course I do. Their presence was woven into my every day since forever. But deeper than that . . . what’s really changed?

Here’s the surprising answer: nothing.

I’m still the only one thinking my thoughts. I still get to choose how I respond to life–whether I react out of habit or respond with intention. The same light is still shining through me, breathing my breaths, beating my heart.

And creatively? I’ve still got a full tank. When I quiet the noise in my head, that old fire still burns. That belief that “everything is as it should be”? Yeah . . . that’s not just a comforting phrase. It feels true.

Now don’t get me wrong–there are moments of sadness. Missing them, wanting things to be like they were. That’s natural. But here’s the thing: you don’t have to stay stuck there.

Think of it like this–be the tortoise, not the hare. Slow and steady. Notice when you slip into nostalgic sorrow . . . and gently bring yourself back. Back to now.

Instead of reacting to their absence, interact with what’s right in front of you. The moment you’re in. The life that’s still unfolding.

Yes, this is a new chapter. No debate there. But the real question is–how do you want it to shape you?

You’ve got a choice: live in the past, or live in the present. One will keep you stuck in the dark. The other? It lights the way forward.

Take care of yourself.

All the best,