Midlife Musings April
Life Lately, Reflections on Aging, Remembrance, Ask A Therapist, Offerings
Welcome to the April edition of Midlife Musings!
I’m so delighted to be back in your inbox with this month’s blend of insight, encouragement, and a gentle reminder that midlife is a season of self-discovery.
This edition is a big one—packed with links, heartfelt reflections, and tender truths. So I invite you to carve out a little time for it. Light a candle, pour a warm cup of tea, and settle in.
As shared in this welcome post, each month I offer reflections and inspiration tailored to this stage of life. Plus, don’t miss the weekly episodes of Tranquility du Jour Season 2 on all things midlife magic—creativity, wellness, and intentional living.
Looking for even more support? The paid subscription is overflowing with resources and on sale 40% off through Monday! Here’s what current paid subscribers are saying:
Inside this month’s edition, you’ll find:
Life Lately – A peek into my world and current inspirations (+ my ballet solo)
Reflections on Aging – An offhand comment, a mirror, and a reckoning
Love, Loss, & Louis the Pug - Remembering a little legend, ten years later
Ask A Therapist Q&A – Navigating hurt feelings with heart
Offerings – Ways to nourish your midlife journey
Last month we celebrated one year of Midlife Musings—a full circle of creativity and community. Here’s the replay if you missed the live gathering. Thank you for joining me, whether live, later, or in spirit!
Now let’s begin. Take a deep breath, open your heart, and step gently into our 15th edition.
PS I hope you enjoyed your previous Midlife Musings newsletters and have a chance to peruse additional posts waiting for you here, too.
PPS Clicking the heart at the top or bottom of this email makes it easier for others to find Midlife Musings. 💗 Oh, and it also warms my heart!
Life Lately: A Peek Inside
Please join me in taking a pause to consider your own life lately: highlights, observations, and challenges.
What I’m working on:
Advanced Tranquility Chapter 1 on Wellness and letting my next book unfold at its own pace
Solo to Enter One by Sol Seppy for June’s International Adult Ballet Festival (here’s a peek at it so far)
Ongoing healing journey
Creating space for more rest, reflection, and inspiration
What I’m loving:
Taking classes on the Reformer, oh my!
Returning to acupuncture
Paris dreaming and contemplating ways to spend more time in the City of Light
Ballet class moments when movement meets emotion
What I’m consuming:
Watched these films while flying back from Paris and recommend them all!
Drinking lots of Suja Lemon Love right now (lemon and cayenne)
Reading You Could Make This Place Beautiful by Maggie Smith and It’s Never Too Late to Begin Again by Julia Cameron
Savoring pots of Macaron Violette tea (green and black tea with violet, jasmine, and rose)
What I’m wearing:
Spritzs of Rose Hydrosol by Cordial Organics
Faux leather mini skirt with tights (picked up at the Monoprix on Avenue de l'Opéra for last month’s Lenny Kravitz concert)
Faux pearl earrings and messy hair
What I’m noticing:
Quiet evenings where I crawl into bed with a (figuratively) full cup
How deeply I crave beauty, stillness, and silence
A continuous stirring in my belly around change
How clarity often comes in the in-between moments
Here’s a peek at my March in Review and a list of ways to bring Paris home with you (plus a five-module digital course that takes it deeper).
Now your turn. What are you working on, loving, consuming, wearing, and noticing? Spend some time with your journal and check in. Your soul will thank you!
I Bet You Were Pretty . . . When You Were Young
Reflections on aging.
Recently, someone looked at me—bare-faced, hair piled up, mid-sentence—and said with casual curiosity, “I bet you were pretty when you were younger.” It wasn’t meant to hurt. Just one of those offhand comments that lands and lingers. I blinked, smiled politely, and tucked it away for later. And by later, I mean now—sitting down to write and share it with you.
Truth be told, I’ve been noticing changes in the mirror lately. While in Paris last month—surrounded by timeless beauty, both architectural and human—I caught my reflection during a ballet class filled with fluorescent lights and floor-to-ceiling mirrors and saw someone who looked undeniably older. My eyes seemed smaller. My face softer. My expression more tired than timeless. It startled me. Was the lighting different in Paris or had I simply not been paying attention? When I shared this feeling—half-curious, half-ashamed—I was gently reminded: this is the face of a woman becoming.
Aging, I’m learning, isn’t the loss of beauty. It’s the layering of it. The deepening. The embodiment. I still love a bold lip, an all-black outfit, French skincare—but more than anything, I want to feel radiant from the inside out. Not because of how I look, but because of how I live.
These days, beauty shows up in laugh lines etched from joy, eyes softened by compassion, a heart that holds both grief and gratitude. So yes, maybe I was pretty. But I’m also something else now. Richer, wiser, softer at the edges, stronger at the core. And if I’m lucky, I’ll keep becoming more of whatever this new kind of beauty is. Because the best part of midlife isn’t what we’ve left behind. It’s what we’re still blooming into, my love!
If you’d like a two-hour virtual retreat focused on midlife and blooming into spring, the replay is available here.
Love, Loss, and a Little Pug Named Louis
This photo was taken at the launch of my first book, Hip Tranquil Chick, many moons ago. It was a full-on Carrie Bradshaw, Sex & the City moment—leopard print, stilettos, sparkly frames filled with black-and-white photos of Paris, lavendertinis, 100 pink gerber daisies, and big dreams. Just out of frame until this reunion moment was Louis the pug, barely two years old. He wasn’t a fan of being apart from me and shrieked at the back of the room while I read the introduction. This was us reunited after five long minutes—proof of the deep, inseparable bond we shared.
Today, I’m reflecting on something that happened ten years ago: the day I said goodbye to Louis. I still remember the weight of that moment—how time seemed to pause as the final breath left his little body. He was more than a pet. He was my sidekick, my shadow, my constant companion. To love a creature so deeply is to risk heartbreak, yes. But it’s also to experience a kind of connection that rewires you. Louis did that for me.
In the early days after his passing, the silence was deafening. I missed the click of his paws on the hardwood, his rhythmic snores during savasana, the way he curled up beside me as I wrote. Grief, I’ve learned, is a shape-shifter. It shows up unannounced, lingers in unexpected places, and softens—eventually—into something sacred. Louis’s absence taught me how to hold space for both joy and sorrow. And how to carry love forward, even after loss.
Here we are on his last day. A sacred, love-soaked farewell. We took him for mango gelato, gave him cake saved from his 10-year birthday, and posed for this photo in front of pink blooms. Those delicate petals return each spring as living reminders of our final moments together. Today they’re sprinkled all over the sidewalk after yesterday’s wind. It feels symbolic. Bittersweet and beautiful.
Although a decade has passed, Louis’s presence still lingers—in my heart, in my work, and in the quiet corners of my home where other rescue pugs have curled up to nap. He was there at the beginning, when my dreams were just taking shape, and stayed by my side through so many unfolding chapters. His absence made space for the dogs who came after and deepened my belief that a single life, no matter how small, can change another’s forever. Louis taught me presence, devotion, the importance of midnight snacks, the quiet power of routine—and that letting go isn’t the end of love. It’s simply a different form of it.
While the first photo captures a joyful reunion from long ago, the second holds something quieter. One reflects our beginning, the other our goodbye. And both remind me that love never truly leaves. It lingers in memory, in ritual, in spring’s returning blooms, and in the quiet ways we continue to carry those we’ve lost. Perhaps you’ve felt that, too—that a person, pet, or moment still walks beside you, even when unseen. May we honor those imprints and keep creating lives that hold space for both joy and remembrance.
PS As I was writing this, a bluejay appeared in my garden. A rare sight here in DC. Some say they’re messengers from the other side. Today, I choose to believe that, too.
Ask A Therapist: Handling Hurt Feelings
Q: How can I let go of upset when someone says something hurtful?
Ah, the sting of a sharp comment—it can linger long after the moment has passed. While we can't control what others say, we can influence how we care for ourselves afterward. Here are a few gentle, grounded steps to help you release the upset and protect your peace:
1. Pause + Breathe
Take a few deep, conscious breaths. This gives your nervous system a moment to regulate before reacting. Place a hand on your heart or belly to anchor yourself in the present.
2. Name the Feeling
Try saying to yourself, “That hurt. I feel ______ (sad, embarrassed, angry).” Naming it brings awareness and honors your emotional truth without letting it take over.
3. Create Space
Give yourself permission not to respond right away. Silence can be powerful. You get to choose if and when to engage.
4. Practice Self-Compassion
Imagine how you'd comfort a dear friend who felt hurt. Offer that same kindness to yourself. A soothing phrase like, “It’s okay to feel this way—I’m allowed to be human,” can help soften the ache.
5. Check the Story
Ask yourself: Is this about me—or more about them? Often, hurtful words say more about the speaker’s pain or projection than about you.
6. Release with Intention
Try a little ritual: write your feelings down, then tear up the page. Or take a short walk and imagine leaving the upset behind with each step. Or picture yourself putting it on a bookshelf and only taking it off the shelf when, and if, you’re ready to process it.
7. Talk it Out (if needed)
If the relationship matters, revisit the conversation once you’ve calmed. Use “I” statements: “I felt hurt when…” rather than accusations. This invites connection rather than defensiveness.
It’s helpful to remember that we can’t always avoid hurtful moments, but we can choose how gently we treat ourselves afterward!
Offerings
A variety of offerings to nourish your soul
Annual Substack Membership 40% off through April 21
Join the Coterie waitlist and get a 30-Day Tranquility Checklist
Seasonal Soirée Replay: savor a 2-hour retreat on blooming into spring
How I Can Support You
Tranquility Coterie yearlong program (waitlist)
Download a digital course and start learning today
Subscribe to my Private Substack Collection for more midlife tools
About Me
Hello! I'm a psychotherapist in Washington, DC, author of seven lifestyle books (next one on midlife), and host of the Tranquility Coterie. I’m in love with my 50s, ballet, pigs, pugs, and orangutans (random mix, I know!). I support women in finding more balance, beauty, and tranquility during this second half of life. More on my website and on Instagram.
A portion of all offerings support Pigs & Pugs Project, Borneo Orangutan Survival, and 1% for the Planet. Thank you for helping to make a difference!
What you wrote about the comment "I bet you were pretty when you were young" was insightful and lovely. I'm 63 and go back and forth between catching a profile view of an old woman (me) in my niece's salon mirror and then some mornings looking in my mirror and thinking 'you're having a relatively good face day'. I think our skin can actually be different from day to day as we age. At any rate, I still think you look great and youthful when I see you periodically in your virtual soirées. Hope that makes you feel better, coming from an older woman. :-)
You have to see “The Friend” about a Great Dane. It was so touching.