And then, I burned out. Hard.

This last decade has been life-changing for me. Personally, professionally, and everything in between.

I have worked all across Africa; lived in the Dominican Republic; earned two Master’s degrees; switched careers; earned my doctorate in clinical psychology while working full time; had two babies; tried to be a good partner to Jeremy; and helped people with complex PTSD heal.

Then I launched two businesses, Northbound Consulting and a psychotherapy practice, within months of giving birth to Jeremy and my second child.

Damn! I was killing it, right?!

I was a great mom. My therapy practice filled quickly. Northbound Consulting seemed to have a life of its own. Jeremy and I still loved each other. Success!

Superwoman.

And then, I burned myself out. Hard.

Perfectionism and drive are two of my reactive tendencies (LCP) that both make me a strong leader, and promise to burn me to the ground. When I am in this zone I lose connection. I lose connection to myself, to the people I care about, and to the world around me.

Connection is my number one value. How could this be happening?

I knew it was happening, but I was so exhausted and committed that I couldn’t find a way out.

Jeremy knew it was happening, too.

He bought me a non-refundable plane ticket to Monterrey, CA for a weekend retreat with my favorite poet, David Whyte. I had never left my kids or my work for more than a day. I tried to change the ticket, but couldn’t. Off I went.

That was just over a year ago.

We all need someone brave enough to say, “I see you and I am going to help you find your way.”

On my retreat I stared at the ocean and listened to the waves. I soaked in the sunlight streaming through the chapel’s windows, and let Whyte’s words reverberate in my soul:

“You are more marvelous in your simple wish to find a way than the gilded roofs of any destination you could reach.”

I could follow the path I was on.

Or I could find a new way forward. My own way.

Within a couple of months, Jeremy and I had made some essential changes. We purchased a new home in the mountains, and I closed my psychotherapy practice.

This was not the only way I could move forward, but it was the essential one.

Feeling into what is essential has been a critical part of my journey into leadership of my life.

My family is essential. Nature is essential. Working part-time is essential.

It was not easy to choose Northbound Consulting. But it is essential.

It is difficult to expose myself to people I do not know. It is even more difficult to expose myself to the people I do know. But it is essential.

It does not come naturally to say publicly that wealth has been a gift in my life and has complicated my decisions, relationships, and mental health. But it is essential.

It is hard to fully own that I inherited a position of power that I can use to have a positive impact in the world.

It is essential.

I have to be compassionate with the voice in my head that says I need to be perfect.

Because the path I now consciously choose means risking judgment, critique, and failure. I am trusting my authentic voice in a public arena. There is no guarantee that everyone will like what I have to say or how I say it.

I am bushwhacking.

I am choosing vulnerability and courage.

And I feel alive.

This is what my children will witness.

I am laying my path as I walk it. And I am moving toward a place that has been waiting for me.

“…as if, all along, you had thought the end point might be a city
With golden towers, and cheering crowds,
And turning the corner at what you thought was the end
Of the road, you found just a simple reflection,
And a clear revelation beneath the face looking back
And beneath it another invitation, all in one glimpse:
Like a person and a place you had sought forever”

I am so thankful for the people in my life who challenge me. To choose myself. The people who say, “I see you. I am with you.”

My work is, in a way, selfish. Helping you step into your true, creative, authentic potential – is also about me stepping into mine. Owning my gifts, my talents, my passions. It is a process that comes to life when I help you own yours.

My wish for you as you enter the new decade is that you remember that:

Everything you are searching for is already inside of you. It is a sign of strength when you ask someone else to help you see it, and embrace it.

Thank you for being part of my journey,

Dr. Katie Spencer

Read David Whyte’s poem Santiago here.