3 Radical Habits for Living a Wider, More Focused Life

A Sledgehammer Moment

“I don’t want to get to the end of my life and find that I lived just to the length of it. I want to have lived the width as well.” —Diane Ackerman

It may be time to widen.

In September 2019 I attended a writer’s retreat with about 20 women writers in Maine close to the lush green solitude of Acadia National Park.

The three-day retreat had a comfortable cadence of classes and solo writing time, yoga and veggie-heavy meals. Secluded and nursing a common yearning to write our books, the group had slipped quickly into a lovely supportive sisterhood.

I was just nine months into my writing then. At the beginning of the year, I’d retired from a thirty-year corporate career and still felt unsteady, like a blind-folded rookie feeling my way forward in pitch black publishing land. This weekend had me feeling less alone.

So I was blindsided on the last evening by a sharp outburst. It was after dinner. Blustery winds whistled outside the dark window panes. We’d pulled dining chairs into a circle at the end of the dining hall. Looking around the circle, I saw dancing firelight on these sister faces from a nearby stone fireplace, and appreciation for the feeling of camaraderie and community and connection.

Tears glimmered in our eyes.

“Does anyone have anything they’d like to share?” invited the host.

One by one, sisters spoke up with gratitude: An epiphany about a Work In Progress. A break-through to a plot’s impasse. The discovery of how a theme’s golden thread had woven undetected through story.

Then, I felt an inner urgency—like an animal striking the inside of a cage—rise up and I burst out, sudden tears choking my words, “I will not shut up anymore!”

Damn the years of toeing the patriarchal line and putting up with patronizing idiocy I had to smile and nod to, all in order to white-knuckle the edges of my hard-fought foothold. I’d freed myself from a corporate career—I’m confident no different than most organizations—yet, my throat still constricted. Those years of training and reward for toeing the line had deep grooves.

Some inner voice inside of me couldn’t take it any longer.

I was still too careful. Too scared to use my voice. And it would still take me years to do something as innocuous as to start a weekly newsletter but like hitting the ice with a sledgehammer I’d struck the first blow.

When I did finally hold my breath and close my eyes to begin this newsletter, I knew I had to make it weekly because of the slippery slope of fear I teetered along. By tightly reining myself to a set day of the week (Tuesday)—the commitment frequency held tight by me alone—I’d hung on to a weekly cadence to keep me honest.

But now, today, I’m not fearful of speaking up any longer. At least, I don’t think I am.

Instead, I’m ready to experiment with new disciplines to pursue being an author and, more importantly, to loosen old cords.

To make room to widen my life, I have three new radical acts:

1. Sustain a phone detox: Following the example of a friend, today I’ve begun an experiment of keeping my phone in a drawer and taking it out to check three specific times a day. Only for text messages and emails that expect a response. I want to shut off its distraction. There’s a part of me that notices how this simple act feels radical. That alone is information about how dependent I’ve become.

   
   

2. Walk outside every day: There are days on end when I don’t take a step outside. Like a magnet the merciless taunt of doing, doing, doing tethers me to my desk. I grew up next to glorious Illinois cornfields; I know perfectly well that I’ve been shutting outthe resuscitation wildlife and living things freely offer.

   
   

3. Start nothing new: Such a biggie for me. The well-oiled engine of my efficient productivity thrives on seeding the future so that each day there’s a conveyor belt of new marketing tactics, talk proposals, pop-up events and more ideas enthusiastically jumping at the forefront of my thought, waving their arms and shouting, “Pick me! Pick me!” They are fun ideas too. Creative, experimental, joyful stuff I thrive on—and yet, and yet—I need them to take a seat. Shut down a bit. Chill out.

   
   

For there is a width to life that calls me: Service, connection, sisterhood, community and country.

I have already been popular, held positions of authority, fought for years through competitive environments, found financial success, earned accolades. These are the brass rings that choked my throat. So. . .what else is there?

If I keep walking the same path and crowding the corners of my consciousness and time with those familiar metrics—however much fun it is—I am not making room to widen.

In this spirit, I am taking the next three weeks off from posting my weekly newsletter. For brand new subscribers, I acknowledge we’ve barely gotten a chance to know each other!

See you from new (hopefully) wider edges in 2026 for I’ll be back.

You can’t shut me up.