September 2026

It has been a while since I wrote my first Quiet Lesson. When I wrote What Quiet Has Been Teaching Me in July, I was still in Dzemul, Yucatán, Mexico. I was surrounded by quiet roads, nature, slower mornings, and a pace of life that gave me space to think. At the time, I knew the quiet was doing something for me. I just don't think I fully understood what.

Now … I am home. I've been back for about two weeks, and something feels different.

I feel different.

The months I spent in Mexico gave me more than time with my parents. The months gave me time with myself. There was time to think about where I've been, what I've experienced, what I've accomplished, what I've carried, and who I am becoming. Some of that reflection was beautiful. Some of it was difficult. Being home with family also brought me face-to-face with experiences from my past that I thought I had moved beyond. Old hurt resurfaced. Familiar emotions appeared. At times, I could have responded from an older version of myself. But something surprised me.

I didn't respond the same way.

That doesn't mean I didn't feel. I did. It doesn't mean that what happened in the past suddenly didn't matter. It did. What changed was me. I could recognize what I was feeling without letting it take control. I could pause. I could regulate my emotions. I could see situations through a different lens. And perhaps most importantly, I could recognize that I no longer needed to respond from the person I once was.

This showed me something about growth.

We look for growth in the things we accomplish, like the degrees, the promotions, the new roles, the certifications, the business, or the next milestone. But sometimes growth is much quieter. Sometimes growth is encountering something that once disrupted your peace and realizing ... it doesn't have the same power over you anymore!!! That is where I find myself today.

At peace.

Not because everything around me is perfect. Not because every old wound has disappeared. And certainly not because life will never challenge me again. I am at peace because I understand myself differently. And maybe that is part of the pace of becoming. Becoming isn’t always rushed. We live in a world that encourages us to move quickly. We want to know what is next. We want closure. We want the lesson. We want healing. We want transformation, and sometimes we want it on our timeline. You know what I discovered… that becoming has its own pace.

The quiet, the nature, the slower days, the conversations, the difficult moments, and even the resurfacing of old experiences were all doing something I couldn’t fully see while I was living through them. They were showing me. Not who I used to be. Not even who I thought I should be.

But who I am becoming.

Quiet Reflection

This experience has me thinking differently about transition. Within my Transition Identity Model ™, there is a space between who we were, who we are, and who we are becoming. We may want to hurry through that space because uncertainty can be uncomfortable. But perhaps that space isn't something we need to escape. Maybe it is where integration happens. The person we were doesn't disappear. Our experiences remain part of our story. But with reflection, self-awareness, and time, we begin deciding what we will carry forward and what no longer gets to lead us.

So this Quiet Lesson leaves me with a different question:

What if becoming isn't about getting somewhere faster, but recognizing who you are becoming along the way?

Maybe we don't always need to rush the process.

Maybe we need to trust the pace.

Until next time.

Coach Ronnie