Have you ever felt seen in a moment when you thought you were invisible?
It was one of those many days that started long before dawn. At 3 AM, I had curled up in the guest bed, the blue light of my phone illuminating my face as I tapped out content for clients. I'd slipped out of our bedroom quietly, careful not to wake my husband. This guest bed had become my impromptu office in the wee hours, a place where I could work without disturbing anyone's sleep.
These stolen moments of productivity are a necessity to keep all the plates spinning in my life. As I worked, I could feel the rush of the coming day catching up to me, knowing that once my son woke up, there would be no pause button.
When my son finally stirred, I hit the ground limping. The morning was a blur of homeschooling, managing anxieties, and trying to gulp down warm coffee between lessons. All the while, my mind was half on my upcoming focus groups for another client as we're doing a total revamp of his IP.
Somehow, I made it through the second round of focus groups looking professional enough. But as I glanced in the mirror afterwards, the toll of the day was evident. My eyes were tired, my hair slightly disheveled, and - I noticed I was missing an earring. It's entirely likely I never put it in…
It was in this moment of self-reflection, feeling utterly drained and somewhat invisible, that my phone lit up with a message. It wasn't a meme this time, but a Spotify link from a friend in Arizona. The accompanying text was simple: "I admire you. Heard this for the first time when a friend played it, and I knew I had to share it with you."
Curious, I used my precious 5-minute break between meetings to listen. The song was "The Mother" by Brandi Carlile, and these lines stopped me dead in my tracks:
"Welcome to the end of being alone inside your mind
You’re tethered to another, and you're worried all the time"
In that instant, the chaos of my day faded into the background. This song, this gesture from my friend, was a little hug I didn't even know I needed. It was a moment of being truly seen, of someone recognizing the complex joy, worry, and love that makes up my life as a mother to a child with special needs.
That moment of connection—someone seeing beyond my professional facade to my lived experience—is exactly the kind of human touchpoint I now help others create and recognize in their own lives.
As a certified career coach with decades of experience helping others navigate career transitions, I've come to recognize the profound power of these small moments. They're the threads that weave us together, creating a tapestry of support in an often fragmented world.
The Art of Penguin Pebbling
In the last year, I stumbled upon a concept that beautifully captures this idea of micro-connections: "penguin pebbling." It's a term I came across while creating a glossary for an online autism community I manage. Penguin pebbling describes the autistic tendency to share items of interest with loved ones, much like how penguins offer pebbles as gifts.
This concept resonates deeply with me. I've always been a creator of mixtapes (when that was a thing), a sharer of books, a giver of handmade gifts. My son, an artist with autism, does the same, often creating drawings just for specific people. He’s also quite fond of gifting me with shells he stows after our beach walks. It's a beautiful way of saying, "I see you, I value you, and I want to share this part of me with you."

In many ways, these small acts of sharing - these "pebbles" - are the essence of micro-connections. They're the memes we send, the song lyrics we share, the quick "thinking of you" texts that bridge the gaps between us, even when life keeps us physically apart.

From Despair to Action: The Power of Micro-Gatherings
Priya Parker, author of "The Art of Gathering," offers a powerful insight: "Sometimes, the best gatherings aren't the ones we plan for, but the ones we create in response to the world around us." Her work on creating collective meaning through intentional gatherings inspired me when I read about Ashley, who transformed her housewarming party into a pop-up café supporting furloughed workers in a recent LinkedIn post from Parker.
Weaving Our Own Support
As I approach my 50th birthday, juggling my roles as an autism mom and a full-time work-from-home professional I find myself inspired by Ashley's story. I've been contemplating hosting coffee chats or "office hours" for career moms navigating the complex intersection of work and caregiving. It’s a way to bridge my love of building thoughtful communities and helping me feel more connected in my work and personal growth.
What I envision isn't your typical structured meeting. These would be drop-in sessions where moms can come and go as their schedules allow. Even if someone can only pop in for three minutes between their child's therapy sessions or during a brief lull in their workday, that's completely fine! I understand that for many, three minutes might be all that's possible. But those three minutes can be a glimmer of connection, a moment of being seen and understood, both for them and for me. If this intrigues you, send me a message here.
In my work, I've seen how people can feel "cast out on an island," utterly hopeless and helpless when facing career challenges, especially when compounded by caregiving responsibilities. I do my best to bring out what's still thriving within them. We pull that thread and see where it leads us.
Take my client (now friend) with 20 years of non-profit project management experience who, after a two-year hiatus, believed her career was over. By exploring her strengths and current needs, we discovered a new path: fractional project management. Within a month, she had four clients, an LLC, and renewed purpose—balancing professional skills with her mental health and caregiving responsibilities.
These success stories aren't just about career transitions; they're about rediscovering hope and connection. They're about creating our own "Second Story Cafés" - spaces where we can share our challenges, celebrate our victories, and find inspiration in each other's journeys.
The Tightrope of Motherhood with High Needs Children
The moms I work with—women like me—often describe life as walking a tightrope. We're raising children with high needs while maintaining careers and some semblance of personal identity. Together, we focus on what feels sustainable for their unique circumstances, just as I've had to do in my own journey.
In this context, micro-connections become even more crucial. A meme from a friend, a supportive comment on a post, a quick check-in text - these small gestures create a shorthand of "I see you" that can make all the difference. The bond between moms who have experienced these both magical and emotional times with our special kids while juggling all the other things is like a secret language of understanding and support.
Moving Forward, One Pebble at a Time
As we navigate our complex lives, let's not underestimate the power of these micro-connections and micro-gatherings. They're the pebbles we offer each other, the threads we use to weave our support networks, the tiny but powerful actions that move us from despair to hope.

I've found my superpower in creating connections amid chaos.
What about you? What unique strengths have you discovered in your own challenging circumstances? How might you turn those into moments of connection—for yourself and others?
As I often remind myself we're all works in progress, constantly rewriting our stories. But sometimes, the most powerful chapters are the ones we write together. As Priya Parker suggests, let's rethink how we spend our time together and infuse it with creativity and meaning. After all, the best gatherings - and the most profound connections - might just be the ones we create in response to the world around us.
Whether it's sending a funny meme to a friend you know is struggling, hosting a small gathering for parents in similar situations, or simply reaching out to say "I see you," never underestimate the power of your micro-connections. They're the pebbles that can start an avalanche of support, understanding, and positive change.
Until next time I’d love to know what kind of penguin pebbling you do or are now considering … Join us in the Glimmer Nest Chat via the “join chat” button below.
Take good care of you and yours,
Recommended Resources:
"The Art of Gathering: How We Meet and Why It Matters" by Priya Parker
Priya Parker's newsletter - The Art of Gathering - sign up here: https://www.priyaparker.com/
This was so timely, for all of us with anxiety, not just moms. I’d love a follow up post on ways to build those pebbles. :-)
Autistic or not, I penguin pebble.
Also, "hit the ground limping" had me giggling. I hope it was a smart play on running and not a real injury description that I was laughing at!