re·sult

/rəˈzəlt/

noun

plural noun: results

1. a consequence, effect, or outcome of something.”the tower collapsed as a result of safety violations”

I’m excited.

I’m excited because this year’s OLW—One Little Word—is resonating with me in exactly the way I hoped it would. My intentionality is heightened. I’m more aware of what I’m putting in and more attentive to what’s coming out as a result of those choices.

Here’s an example.

There’s a person in my life whose days are very routine. To some, their life might even seem monotonous. When we talk, I often hear the same story more than once—sometimes in the same conversation. If I’m honest, that repetition can trigger me. It makes it harder to stay present, and it affects how I show up on the other end of the phone.

And then, in one moment, I paused—and chose to show up differently.

I asked myself: What is it like to live a life that’s less dynamic than mine?

Every day in my work is different. There is no shortage of chaos in a career centered on multifamily and municipal mitigation and restoration. Vehicle impacts. Large-scale water losses. Constant movement. Constant change. I’m grateful for that. Truly.

Beyond work, my life is full. I have my church community, my ladies cohort, friends from Denver, The Girl Tribe here in Arizona. I’ve recently been called to serve on the vestry at St. Peter’s Episcopal Church in Litchfield Park. I have my husband, with all the daily rhythms of married life. And of course—Oliver and Stanley, who at this very moment are in the pantry doing Lord knows what.

Every day looks different from the one before.

But that isn’t true for everyone.

And there it is—the rub. A life full of movement, contrast, and constant change paired with someone whose days are steady, predictable, and familiar. I’m a person always in motion. So how do I show up for someone who is, in many ways, my opposite?

Differently.

No rocket science here.

I slow myself down. I choose attentiveness. I consider what it might be like to be someone else. And honestly, it doesn’t matter whether someone moves at a slower pace or simply has a different set of ebbs and flows. The choice remains the same.

I have two ears and one mouth for a reason.

If I want a different result—if I want to avoid being triggered, annoyed, bored, frustrated—then I have to approach conversations differently. Ready to hear. Ready to listen. Committed to listening in order to understand, grow, and learn—not to refute or rush to respond.

It really is that simple.

And I’m grateful for that.