QUARTERLY REFLECTIONS / Q4 2025
One of my ongoing practices is pausing to reflect—not just on Pure Luxe Apothecary, but on life as a whole. I’ve learned that looking back offers perspective, grounding, and a useful reorientation for what comes next.
For me, reflection has also been a way to honor my own path. That usually means looking at the everyday moments of life through a personal lens. But the systems and wider world we're part of are shaping everything, too. There’s so much happening right now that’s incredibly painful and impossible to ignore. In the midst of that, it can feel silly to write about personal lessons and small joys.
But our inner work still matters. Caring for ourselves and finding ways to create joy and connection (no matter how small) is part of how we keep showing up for the people and values we love. I circle this duality a lot, and have to remind myself that showing up isn’t always loud. Sometimes action looks like rest or creativity. Anything that helps us stay heart-centered.
With that in mind, my hope is that these notes offer a quiet place to take stock of what’s working, what might need a shift, and what truly matters—and maybe it’ll spark a little reflection for you, too.
The Season I Didn't Expect
I had hoped the last quarter of 2025 would be a relatively straightforward one.
I think I was especially craving a season that felt stable and predictable — even if it was just in my own small corner. On the calendar were planned meetups with friends, special events (Samin Nosrat in Iowa City!), the biggest holiday market of the year, and a few other fun holiday events. After markets wrapped up, I was looking forward to more progress on my 'Great Basement Clear-Out,' my never-ending reading list, and a few personal development courses patiently waiting on my computer.
My plan was calm, steady progress on all the things — Pure Luxe growth, personal projects, holiday fun, time with friends and family, and some slower days at the end of the year to rest and reflect. Totally do-able.
But very little of that actually happened. Sigh.
Two unexpected health issues filled my weeks in October and November — a painful dental emergency with lots of follow-up care, and a long stretch of respiratory illness that left me without a voice (literally) and without energy for weeks. That combo forced me to slow waaay down. The kind of slowdown you can’t schedule around, no matter how hard you try. Sometimes the only option is to surrender.
The result was a lot of rest. A lot of quiet. A lot of plans falling away.
It was frustrating. Isolating. And definitely not the cozy, productive season I had pictured.
What I'm Learning (Still)
As I tried to pull out clear lessons or tidy conclusions from all that, I kept going back to the simplest truth: Sometimes your body says no, and that’s that.
Sometimes life says no. Plans fall apart. Things get unpredictable.
But I think the more useful takeaway, especially for me as a solo small business owner (and generally self-reliant person), has been:
If I’m not well, everything stops.
It highlighted a vulnerable spot, loudly. I’ve known the risks of solo work since the beginning and have safeguards in place, but until now, “not well” has mostly meant a few days here and there. I’ve been doing in-person markets for more than a decade, and I honestly can’t remember ever missing major markets or events because of illness.
This extended stretch of time out of commission pushed me to look more closely at how I’m moving forward, with sustainability and growth in mind. Where are the blocks and trip hazards in my path? What can I put in place so that my presence (or lack of presence on a specific day) doesn’t impact outcomes so dramatically?
One puzzle piece is putting even more energy toward online reach, an important part of Pure Luxe Apothecary’s future. Not scaling just to scale, but creating more consistency and resilience.
Another piece is building support, systems, and a pace that feels like care. For both my business and myself. Building systems that can hold momentum when life interrupts. Because eventually... it always does.
And yet another piece is the one that’s always there: taking care of my health. They say we create the business we most need ourselves. So the reminders to truly slow down and care for body, mind, and spirit are for others, yes — but also for me.
The Glimmers
Despite the disappointments, there were still moments of light woven in around the hard parts. They didn’t cancel out the hard parts, but they did help me stay afloat in the midst of them.
It feels important to notice those moments, no matter what kind of season we’re in. Not as a way to bypass what's tough, but as a reminder that good still exists alongside it.
For me, the glimmers of Q4 looked like small gatherings, creative projects, slow walks to admire fall colors, loved ones checking in, and cozy moments at home. So much laughter at Halloween with family and little ones. Blanket forts with great-nephews. Relaxed Thanksgiving lunches.
By mid-December, I was well enough to take a long-planned sister trip to Asheville. Phew. A nighttime Christmas tour inside the Biltmore Mansion was completely magical—plants, lights, trees, candlelight—and soaking in the art and culture of the city felt like fresh air after a long stretch of being sidelined.
What I’m Carrying Forward
On a personal level, this quarter brought up themes I’m guessing many of us can relate to:
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listening to a body asking for a slower pace (or different care)
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watching carefully made plans unravel
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feeling moments of isolation while life continues around us
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noticing how much we’re quietly holding and keeping in motion
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learning to build support, even when it’s imperfect
Setbacks and redirections feel so disappointing. Sometimes like failure. But I’m continually reminded that if I take time to reflect - to give myself space to metabolize things and let the fog clear - there’s useful information there.
It’s like composting. (I love a good gardening metaphor. 😉) If you take the time, you can break things down and use them as fuel for the future. Nothing is wasted.
So as January has unfolded, I’ve been using my reflections to fuel the days ahead. These are the perspectives and practices I’m carrying forward that feel especially meaningful:
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Respecting the body (it holds wisdom our minds often ignore)
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Letting plans change (redirection can be a gift)
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Choosing ease (work smarter, not harder)
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Building sustainability (growth that feels steady, not strained)

What Next? The Year Ahead
For several years now I’ve focused on choosing a guiding practice or 'Word of the Year' rather than resolutions. So along with my reflections on the last months of 2025, I've been thinking about the new year ahead too.
My pick for 2026 is Discernment — the practice of choosing what truly aligns and releasing what doesn’t. Along with that word, a phrase came to mind while journaling and ties in perfectly: Less friction, more flow.
Discerning feels relevant for me, both personally and professionally. My current chapter of life seems to be all about transitions, liminal spaces, and a steady editing of things, ideas, and roles.
I’m hoping to move through it with more wisdom and clarity.
New: I’ll be shifting how I share reflections this year too. Instead of calendar quarters, I’ll be writing in rhythm with the seasons — winter, spring, summer, and autumn — and sharing each reflection after a season has passed. That timing feels more natural to me, both in how I work and how I experience the world around me. The next one will arrive in March.
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If you ended 2025 feeling a little off-script too, you’re not alone. Sometimes the most meaningful seasons end up being the ones that don’t turn out the way we thought they would.
Here’s to listening closely, resting when needed, and letting clarity arrive in its own time.
Pure Luxe: In the workshop and a Fall market

Little moments of beauty and light

Gatherings 💗

Biltmore Mansion and Conservatory in December

This is a series of quarterly reflections I share here and with my email community. My hope is that it becomes a soft place to pause—a seasonal check-in to take stock, share a little of what’s been meaningful behind the scenes, and offer something grounding, thoughtful, or simply human for your own path, too.
Thank you for being here!
Love + gratitude,