This weekend, we’ll see the Grateful Dead perform its 60th anniversary show in San Francisco. There is a 100% chance of fog.
My mind goes back to days long ago – seeing Jerry Garcia at his finest at RFK Stadium in Washington, D.C. Reflections of the lyrics to “Truckin’ (1970)” – “What a long strange trip it’s been.”
That was my last 72 hours. It started with a cold flu – the kind that knocks you flat, forces you to cancel meetings, miss a key event you look forward to each year, surrender to sleep, and quiet your soul. In the haze of cough, cold, sinus pressure and fatigue, I had three vivid dreams.
They weren’t just ordinary dreams, but ones that felt like they carried messages. It was really weird and I woke up completely discombobulated.
A sprawling overseas airport, where I was utterly lost. The U.S. Capitol, where I once walked the halls of power, now a maze with outdoor structures and monuments that don’t exist. A thriving city that isn’t real —except in my dream.
I woke up remembering every detail. And I realized – these weren’t just dreams. They were metaphors for my current moment in life.
The Airport: A symbol of transition. I’m not where I used to be. I’m in-between—that space of both confusion and immense potential. That vision you can see, but have not yet realized.
The Capitol: A reminder of legacy, structure, power, influence—and how I once defined my worth. A place I left to follow new dreams out West, to help our family thrive and grow in a place outside the halls of government. A place where where dreams are made and freedom is in the air. A place where you can smell the roses and explore the great outdoors with curiosity and abundance.
A Thriving City: I saw a city of the future, a virtual reality shopping mall, bustling with a diverse group of young people, whose success is evident by high-end stores and opulence. It was alive with collaboration, new ideas, “what if?” perspectives, and a hunger for what’s next. There was no looking backward, but a focused thrust forward through imagination, grit and a realization that a shining city on a hill can exist.
These dreams were an epiphany. Not because they offered answers, but because they gave me permission to feel “in between”. I was not lost. I was taking the time to rewrite and rewire.
For years, I equated impact with effort. I thought if I worked harder, proved more, delivered bigger—then I’d be valued, respected, and safe. “Work hard” was my family’s mantra, as my Dad always said, and as both my Mom and Dad always did.
But life isn’t always about work, work, and more work. A recent health scare taught me that. The pathways of life are paved with detours – the things that help you grow and thrive. For me, it’s my family. My fantastic, loving husband, my wonderful son and his beautiful new wife. It’s about many days in July – friends, music, and the ability to enjoy life.
Sometimes, the greatest act of courage is to pause, reflect, and realize that titles no longer matter, and that your sense of purpose, things that make a difference, and nourish your soul do.
So, if you find yourself in an unfamiliar airport, or staring down a version of your past that no longer fits, or dreaming of a place where you feel fully alive—don’t dismiss it.
You may not be as lost as you think. This moment is a test – an opportunity to rebuild better, a chance to realign, to remember who you were before, and to thrive in the moment.
Even if the place you’re searching for doesn’t exist yet—it’s not because you’re lost. It’s because you are the only one who can rebuild something true to yourself.
Breathe. Be bold. Come out from the fog, and give yourself the grace to create a new beginning.
The Grateful Dead did it. You can too.
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