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I had a week that, by any measure, was a win. And I still woke up the next morning questioning myself.

From the outside, it was daunting: six Mountaineers engagements, five of them involving teaching or leading; my longest single day on record seeing clients; an online backpacking course that extended beyond two hours with a firehose of information about gear; and all things “life” fit in between leads.

Inside, it was a week involving things I love doing. But part of me had been dreading it in some ways due to the sheer volume of obligations.

Could I do it?

If I’d asked that question a year ago, I would have stuck my head in the sand, afraid to try. But today I stand on the opposite side, proud of what I’ve accomplished.

This morning, however, I found myself seeking external validation in the form of trip reports I typically avoid for several days. Why couldn’t I just be satisfied with the grounded, courageous feeling I had following yesterday’s fifth talk?

A Week of Showing Up

My list of leading engagements included a snowy pacing hike on March 15 for Seattle Mountaineers’ Conditioning Hiking Series to Little Si and Boulder Gardens, where I encouraged a struggling hiker. Two days later, I acted as the mentored leader in a new-to-me location, Paradise Valley Conservation Area, to help a hiker complete her final requirement to get on the leader list. On Thursday morning at Union Bay in muddy conditions, nine of us enjoyed 42 bird species, where a novice birder lit up realizing there is more than one type of duck.

All three of these trips thrilled me in terms of the depth and breadth of experiences I’m currently engaged in. Since they all included varied pacing, they left me energized and looking forward to more rather than worn out.

As for teaching, my husband and I co-taught a seminar on developing a suitable program for long hikes or backpacks Friday night. During the talk, students fully engaged and asked plenty of questions. A few even had “aha” moments as the larger implications of what we were trying to teach sank in..

Power of Giving Back presentation

Bright and early Saturday morning, I headed for Tacoma to present an outdoor leadership class on Stewardship at the Mountaineers’ South Sound Leadership Conference. Of everything this week, it was the only solo teaching gig. The only one I’d been invited to months ago. And in it I revealed several deeply personal stories about my own path toward stewardship. It felt amazing to facilitate that class and still have enough in the tank to offer an unscheduled, impromptu birding walk for 12 conference attendees.

I finished the week feeling tired and satisfied, like I was living my best self.

The Moment of Alignment

As twelve of us peered into Buckley Gulch, on the lookout for towhees, juncos, sparrows, finches, and newly migrating warblers, a participant spotted a bald eagle soaring overhead just as I heard it. Anytime a raptor makes its presence known I take it as a sign. In this case, all twelve of us paused to watch it fly and land in a treetop not too far from us. Though I did not have my birding lens with me, capturing it on my phone was enough.

Noticing our natural environment was one of the many steps to stewardship I’d taught an hour earlier. This was a delightful event, especially with the Mountaineers’ CEO, Tom Vogl, along. After the walk, he thanked me for inviting people along. He’d never birded before and was thankful for the chance to get outdoors between sessions. Another woman said it was one of the highlights of the conference and she was going to suggest something like that take place at future conferences.

The risk I took — would people laugh? would anyone want to leave socializing at lunch to look for birds? — was worth it to reap the rewards: twelve happy leaders enjoying something they had never done before, led by someone who could point out how to get started. This was it: just me, authentically me, and a win-win for everyone.

The Turning Point

So it came as a shock this morning when I found myself looking for external validation. I know perfection is a mirage, and I can never expect all “perfect” evaluations, nor would I ever want that, as it means there’s nothing to improve. There’s no way to UNREAD them. I felt for a moment like something was wrong, or maybe missing.

What did I need in this moment?

I turned to a recording from my spiritual advisor, whose voice reminded me of the importance of celebrating the wins, big or small.

Suddenly, I felt like crying. That was it. I hadn’t taken time to acknowledge what I had just done.

I was too fixated on looking at what was coming next. Once I came to that realization, I heard my inner child (call it ego, call it the wounded self, however you want to identify it.) She was petulantly begging for me to pause, to acknowledge the win before doing anything more.

Why Celebration Isn’t Optional

That’s when I decided to write about the week and the landing moment for this week’s Blog. Because celebration isn’t optional. It’s essential. If we keep skipping past the good stuff in our lives, why do anything?

Without celebration, the loop stays open. And when the loop is open, we go looking for someone else to close it for us.

I was on autopilot, seeking validation, because I felt I still needed something. But in that moment, I came to realize it was never external validation I needed. It was internal appreciation for all the hard work I did this week, this month, the past 15 months.

I could pause and appreciate once again the awards I received for my work in 2025. But even more important than any awards or accolades, I’m now realizing, is the self-trust and acceptance I’m developing as I become a steward for the Mountaineers. A steward for change and growth. And I’m doing the hard work I teach. It’s hard, necessary, sometimes exhausting work. But so worth it.

That’s what I celebrate today. Transformation. I’m learning to close the loop internally before the outside world gets any vote.

Beginning Again

So, this week I start again. Like the marsh wren who serenaded us at Union Bay, I have a lot to share. My one-talk repertoire from a decade ago continues to expand to a dozen or more.

What I carry forward from this week is the confidence that I am exactly where I need to be. Not because everything went perfectly. But because I showed up, fully, and took the time to recognize it.

And that’s what I want to keep practicing. Not just doing the hard work. But closing the loop myself.