There are times when life feels less like a gentle stroll and more like trying to navigate with a glitchy GPS that keeps rerouting you through construction zones and rambling paths over awkward cobblestones. Lately, raising my incredible teen who experiences the world through autism has gotten more complex as we navigate his emerging OCD and anxiety symptoms. Add in work deadlines and various projects, and some days I feel like I'm losing my grip on what matters most.
In these moments, when my focus feels scattered, I find myself looking for that familiar sense of a comfortable direction. That inner compass that points me back to what truly matters when I can barely remember if I've eaten lunch or completed basic self-care (as I've written about in my exploration of dissociation).
As I've shared before, getting clarity when everything is noisy isn't easy. The sheer volume of things demanding attention can make it nearly impossible to hear myself think, let alone make thoughtful decisions. I so desperately don’t want to stumble on my path.
The Power of Values in Finding Our Way
I know that talking about "values" can feel uncomfortable. The word itself might bring up associations with rigid religious teachings or a sense of moral superiority—that feeling when someone declares their values in a way that implicitly judges others. It's no wonder many of us shy away from the topic entirely.
But I've come to see values differently. For me, values aren't about adhering to strict rules or claiming moral high ground. They're more like a loosely guiding roadmap—flexible waypoints that help me navigate when the path forward isn't clear. They don't dictate specific actions so much as provide a supportive framework for making choices that feel aligned with who I truly am.
Recently, I've been reminded of how important this supportive framework is, especially as I participate in Laura Zug's Community Foundations course for a second time. Laura, through her work and her community, The Hive—this warm, supportive space where people genuinely see each other—shows how establishing clear values is foundational, whether you're building community guidelines, a thriving grassroots social impact organization or navigating your personal life.
Just as Laura emphasizes setting values before establishing community rules, I've found that recalibrating my own compass begins with revisiting my core beliefs. Sometimes, these values shift over time as we grow and our circumstances change. I often turn to Brené Brown's values exercise from "Dare to Lead" as a guide in this process.
Looking at Brown's extensive list, three values stand out for me right now: connection, courage, and empathy.
Connection: The Thread That Weaves Us Together
Connection has always guided my life. Whether it's the bond with my son, the communities I’m building, or my work fostering understanding, connecting authentically feels essential.
This value became even more meaningful during those moments when I felt invisible, lost in the fog I've described in previous newsletters. You might remember that story about a friend reaching out at exactly the right moment with a song that made me feel truly seen—one of those micro-connections that can change everything when we're feeling adrift.
Connection looks like those "penguin pebbles" my son and I exchange—those meaningful objects shared as tokens of recognition and love. It's the voice memos exchanged with friends. The Instagram DMs I reserve for my friends far away that I know are guaranteed to make them belly laugh. It's taking a moment to truly listen to my son's questions about his favorite Pixar villains, even when my to-do list is long. These micro-connections are so important when the world feels overwhelming.
Courage: Facing Uncertainty Head-On
Courage shows up in many ways in my life. It takes courage to share vulnerable experiences here, like my struggles with past severe disassociation or navigating healthcare appointments as my son's advocate.
But perhaps the deepest courage I've had to find is in asking for help—something I've written about at length before. From classroom experiences where teachers noticed what I couldn't articulate, to those darkest moments when reaching out felt impossible yet necessary—the act of saying "I need support" has been one of my greatest challenges and most profound teachers.
As I make choices about where to focus my energy, tapping into that courage to prioritize what truly matters feels increasingly important. Recently, this meant turning down a potentially lucrative project because the timeline would have coincided with my son's period of increased anxiety—a decision that two years ago would have frightened me but now feels right.
I've also been reflecting on how courage manifests in our relationship with boundaries. I've noticed something fascinating about many people who've gotten beyond their startup years —they often possess this remarkable ability to state their limits without the constant stream of apologies that younger generations tend to offer.
Think about how often we preface our boundaries with expressions of regret: "I'm so sorry, but I can't make it," or "I apologize, but that won't work for me." It's as though we believe protecting our energy or honoring our priorities is somehow a transgression that requires forgiveness.
A while back, I developed a way of declining opportunities that felt aligned with my values rather than wrapped in unnecessary remorse. When invited to do a community audit that didn't fit my current capacity, I would acknowledge the person's wonderful work, express genuine appreciation for being considered, and then simply state that at this particular moment, accepting their invitation would mean compromising commitments to my family and to my current capacity for new projects.
What surprised me was how respectfully this straightforward communication was received. There was no pushback, no guilt-tripping—just acceptance. This taught me something profound about value-based boundaries: when they come from a place of clarity rather than fear, they communicate integrity that others naturally respect.
This aspect of courage has been especially important for me after pivoting from my long-established career path to my current work. As a community colleague, Jae Washington recently wrote,
“Sometimes we hold onto chapters that no longer serve us, simply because we've already invested so much ink. But growth doesn't ask for comfort, it asks for courage."
That insight resonates deeply with me. When we face those moments of necessary change—whether by choice or circumstance—it helps to remember that starting over isn't failure. It's freedom. It's clarity. It's choosing to believe that your next beginning holds more alignment, more peace, and more possibility than what you're walking away from.
So if you find yourself on the edge of a new beginning, remember that the blank page ahead isn't empty—it's waiting. It's a canvas for your values to guide your next creation.
Empathy: Seeing Through Many Lenses
Empathy shapes how I move through the world. Understanding my son's perspective when he's struggling with crossing his midline or managing what Dr. Rubin described as "the constant undercurrent of intolerance of uncertainty mixed with threat responses to everyday expectations"—this requires deep empathy.
I've learned about empathy in unexpected ways through my own struggles. Those periods when I found myself disconnected from my surroundings, from my memories, even from my sense of self—these experiences gave me a window into what it means to feel lost within your own life.
This value extends to my work too. When coaching neurodivergent clients, my experience as a mother and fellow neurodivergent helps me understand their challenges. And when supporting parents in the Autism Roadmaps community, that shared understanding becomes a powerful connection. I recognize now that the people who become our strongest supports are often those who've walked similar paths—those who recognize the look in your eyes because they've seen it before when looking at themselves in the mirror.
My empathy reminds me to be kind to myself, recognizing that everyone, including me, is doing their best. Just as I want my son to feel safe asking for help, I'm learning to extend that same compassion to myself.
Finding Our Way Back
So, how do we find steady points when everything feels chaotic? For me, it's making values-based choices, even in small moments. When a decision pulls me in different directions, I ask myself: which path aligns with my belief in connection, courage, and empathy?
Another helpful principle is recognizing that our values evolve. What felt essential when my son was younger—like stability and structure—has shifted somewhat as he's grown into his 6'1" frame and new challenges have emerged. Now, adaptability and understanding have taken on new importance. This gentle reassessment allows for a more authentic way forward.
Setting boundaries also becomes clearer through the lens of these values. Saying "not now" to something that doesn't align with my commitment to connection, courage, and empathy feels like an act of integrity rather than a refusal. This has been particularly true as I've navigated turning 50, prompting deeper reflection on how I want to spend my time and energy.
Ultimately, raising a neurodivergent teen while maintaining a professional identity requires being tuned into your internal guidance system. By understanding and honoring our values—those principles that drive us—we can find our way even when the path isn't clear. These values become anchors, lifelines when asking for help feels impossible, and guides for creating meaningful connections that keep us going.
Sending smooth sailing vibes to all … especially as we slide towards summer …
P.S. - What values guide you when you feel pulled in multiple directions? Have you noticed your core values shifting over time? Have you found ways to create micro-connections that align with your values? I'd love to hear your reflections in the Glimmer Nest Chat. Join below!
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Beautifully expressed Kat. I love the phrase "finding our way back" - that is so true.
Such an inspiring read... thanks for sharing into this world. These words will help others.