I was laying on the floor of my office. Head on the rug. Legs up the wall. 

I poised my phone awkwardly above my face, giving Robert a not-especially-flattering view of my chin on our video call.

“I’m not doing so great,” I told him, a tight and creaky feeling in my chest. 

“What’s going on, friend?” he asked. 

This was August. A few months ago. 

I explained that 2024 had been one of the most demanding years of my life and my tank was running extremely low. I felt exhausted and mentally foggy. Things that normally excited me felt dull and uninspiring. 

It wasn’t due to one thing. It was all the things, piled up on top of each other. 

Working full-time while caring for an infant. Sleep deprivation. Postpartum mental health challenges. The pressure of being the sole financial breadwinner for my household. The added challenge of caregiving for a loved one who was battling cancer. 

Although I felt proud to be a business owner, wife, mom, and care provider, the combined weight was a lot to carry. 

On especially bad days, I felt the pressure physically. Ropey cords in my neck and shoulders, hard like metal. Gnarled lumps in my stomach. Invisible hands tightening around my throat. 

“Okay my love,” Robert said, after listening to my sniffly recap. “Here’s what we’re going to do...” 

I listened, nose snuffly, eyes stinging with tears.

“First,” said Robert, “What is your final workday of the year going to be? The last day before you start your winter holiday?” 

“Probably December 20th,” I said weakly, making a mental checklist of the millions of things I needed to accomplish before the end of the year.

“No,” he responded sternly, “December 1st.” 

December 1st? I perked up, imagining the possibility of taking a month-long sabbatical at the end of the year. Could I find a way to pull that off?

“Here's your assignment...” he continued. 

“You're going to write a letter as if it’s December 1st. In your letter, describe all the beautiful things that happened over the last 100 days. The goals you hit. The clients you served. The impact you made. The way you showed up with grace and love for your family. The therapist you hired. How proud you feel. Write it down like you’re giving a recap of what happened.”

“Then,” he added, “Read this letter to yourself out loud, every morning, for the next 100 days. Speak it into existence.”

I told him I would do exactly that. 

I wrote my letter that same day and read it to myself the next morning. And the next. And the next.

Reading the letter became my new daily ritual. It quieted the noise and sharpened my concentration.

Each time I read it, I felt a powerful sensation—a honing, a taut feeling, like an archer pulling back her bow and taking aim, right at the bullseye. 

This is who I am. These are my priorities. This is what I am celebrating on December 1st.

Every day, the letter reminded me where to focus my attention and which actions to take.

Almost every single item in my letter came true. 

Plus a few miracles I never could have predicted. 

Pick a date in the future. Maybe 1 year from now. Or 100 days from now. 30 days. Or 10. 

What do you want to be celebrating on that day?

Write a letter as if it has already happened. 

Read your letter every single day.

Take action to bring your words to life. 

So much can change in 100 days, or for that matter, 10 days or 10 hours. You can create a dramatic turnaround in your life in August or December, any time of year, any time of day.

Today is not over yet. 

And sometimes, you just need a friend to remind you that miracles do come true. 

Especially when you write them down. Especially when you recite them daily and coax them into existence with gentle yet tenacious effort. Especially when you behave as though the dream is already happening and you are living in it. 

Perhaps today I can be that friend for you.

xo.

-Alex