The power's been off since Monday morning early and honestly, I have no idea when it's coming back on. I made the call to postpone tonight's mastermind, and that decision alone reminded me of something I clearly needed to be reminded of. We plan so confidently, don't we. We schedule and structure and commit like the ground beneath us is always going to hold. And then a storm rolls in and suddenly the things we never once thought twice about, electricity, connectivity, just being able to show up the way we intended, become the whole conversation. I'm writing this from a coffee shop where the queue to the plugs keeps getting longer, because we're all rationing our little slice of normal, and what keeps coming up for me is how quickly we forget to be grateful for ordinary. Not the big wins. Ordinary. A hot shower. The lights coming on. The meeting that just happens because nothing got in the way. Storms don't arrive to destroy you. They arrive to remind you what you've stopped noticing. And for me, right now, it's so much more than electricity. It's climbing onto my roof in gushing wind to secure it, because if I didn't, we were likely going to lose it entirely. Adrenalin rush is an understatement. It's getting into a warm bed and actually feeling the weight of that gift. It's talking with my kids in the dark, all of us present in a way we wouldn't have been if the WiFi was on. It's pancakes and hot coffee on the gas stove, and a kind of connection that screens don't make room for. Whatever you're not grateful for, you are choosing to overlook. I'm looking forward to being back with you all properly, but for now, the real conversations happening with the people stuck in this storm with me are proving to be a blessing I know I'll carry for a long time.