Where's the BEEF for women over 60
This is what nourishment looks like when a woman over 60 decides she’s worth soaking in it.
Have you ever found yourself breathless after something simple?
Not because you’re sick-but because your body’s been trying to get your attention?
Maybe you’ve been pouring so much into a dream, a business, a family, a project, a season of survival—that you didn’t notice how long it’s been since you fed yourself something nourishing, ran a brush through your hair, or took a slow, hot bath.
Maybe you’ve been wrapped in a kind of shroud too.
A quiet one.
Made of self-doubt.
Of unmet expectations.
Of "I should be farther along by now" and "I can’t afford to slow down."
I know it well.
Because I just lived it.
This morning I looked around and realized:
I’ve been camped out in what I call the command center.
For me, it’s my desk.
For you, it might be the kitchen.
Or the couch with your laptop.
Or your garage workshop.
Or the passenger seat of someone else’s life.
Wherever it is, it’s the place you go to stay in control.
To feel useful. Productive. Needed.
To keep the wheels turning because if you stop for too long, what happens then?
And it’s not that any of it is wrong.
But here’s what’s also true: It’s not enough.
I got out of the shower today and had to catch my breath.
Not because of illness. But because I’d forgotten:
I am a woman with a body.
A body that needs tending. Feeding. Anchoring. Soaking.
And here’s the kicker—I got a sale while I was drying off.
The universe was whispering:
You’re allowed to walk away from the grind.
The dream won’t die if you rest.
So I’m making a shift. And maybe you’re ready too.
I’m setting up my bathtub.
I’m eating meat again because my body said “please.”
I’m saying goodbye to the vape and choosing my lungs.
I’m letting go of the shroud.
I’m remembering that rituals are not just for my soul—they’re for my body too.
So let me ask you something:
What if your body is the key to your next creative breakthrough?
What if the breath you keep holding is the thing keeping you stuck?
What if you stopped asking your soul to carry the whole damn load—and let your flesh be part of the resurrection?
Because I’ll be honest with you:
I don’t think we can rise into the life we crave, to recalim our dreams, re-ignigte our passions
without feeding the parts of us that are here—in this moment, in this skin, in this room, today.
So maybe you start small.
Maybe you:
Cook something nourishing.
Rub lotion on tired feet.
Soak for 20 minutes in silence.
Walk around the block instead of refreshing the page.
Let a patch of blue paint dry in your hair just a little longer.
Whatever it is—you’ll know.
Your body’s been whispering.
It’s time to listen.
You are allowed to leave the grind.
You are allowed to be still.
You are allowed to tend to your body like it matters.
Because it does.
I’ll be over here—in a towel, with roast in the oven and a bathtub on standby—rewriting what it means to succeed.
You with me?
Because here’s what I know now:
The only reason I could hear the truth today—about my lungs, my habits, my bathtub still waiting—is because I’ve spent time building trust with my soul.
Without that inner relationship, I’d still be spinning. Still clinging to my desk.
Still telling myself that someday I’ll slow down.
So let me ask you gently…
Do you trust your own soul enough to let it lead you out of the fog?
Out of exhaustion? Out of the habits that once held you, but now keep you stuck?
If you’re ready to start rebuilding that trust—bit by bit, breath by breath—I’ve created something to help you begin:
👉 Building Trust with Yourself
A gentle, soul-led way to reconnect with the quiet wisdom already living inside you.
Because reinvention,reclaiming dreams doesn’t begin with action.
It begins with permission—
and the trust that your soul knows the way.
Turns out, the real beef isn’t just on my plate—it’s in the choice to nourish myself like I matter. That’s what trust looks like now.
Thank you for the reminder that it’s OK to slow down. In this season of my life, I still have many projects I want to do in many books I want to read, but… It’s OK if I let them sit until tomorrow. When I slow down and sit quietly, I can begin to hear my soul.