I took the entire month of July off. It was by design. So much of my career was spent on an airplane missing the small, ordinary, extraordinary moments with my family, and I built Karmic Leader so that would never have to happen again. This July, I got to be fully present with my daughter Zara, who is twelve and growing older by the second, and I want to share what that month taught me.

Minnesota: Nature Is a Teacher

We started with two weeks in Northern Minnesota, where the eagles fly overhead and the loons wake you up every morning instead of an alarm clock. Slow pontoon rides. Slow cups of coffee on the deck, looking out at a lake so still it felt like it was holding its breath. Paddle boarding with my mom, my dad, and my daughter. Evenings around the campfire with extended family, celebrating our country's two hundred and fiftieth anniversary together.

Here's what I keep coming back to. We don't spend nearly enough time with Mother Earth, and every single time I trade indoor hours for outdoor ones, I feel more like myself. If I could hand you one piece of advice from this whole summer, it would be this: spend as much time outside as you possibly can. It changes something in you that nothing else quite reaches.

Nebraska: Trusting the Plan That Unfolds

From there, Zara and I headed to advanced Girl Scout horse camp, where I chaperoned a group of seventh through twelfth graders. My days looked like cutting watermelon, baking brownies, and prepping food while the girls learned advanced riding skills. Watching my daughter, one of the youngest campers there, hold her own among riders years older than her because of all those years of lessons finally paying off, that was a proud mom moment I will never forget.

We were supposed to camp at Fort Robinson, but wildfires had taken the trails and it wasn't safe. So the camp director pivoted. She arranged for the girls to spend a day at a working cattle ranch, waking up at sunrise to move cattle from fence to fence down dusty trails on horseback. It wasn't on the itinerary. It ended up being nearly every girl's favorite part of camp, including Zara's.

That's the lesson right there. We can plan with the best of them, and we still have to trust that sometimes the unforeseen plan is the better one. Part of being human is allowing ourselves to audible. My life looks nothing like what I would have planned at twenty, or even five years ago, and I've learned that a much more present way to live is to trust that things will unfold exactly as they need to, one adjustment at a time.

Colorado: We Can Do Hard Things

From Western Nebraska we drove up to Frisco, Colorado, where Alex's parents have a beautiful home. We escaped the heat, read books, played cards, took hikes, and savored family meals together. Near the end of the trip, we set our sights on Mount Royal and its steep summit. A few years ago, I couldn't make it to the top. Last year, I conquered that fear and finally did. This year, I asked Zara if she wanted to try it with me, and she said yes.

It took us two hours, longer than most people take, but we made it. The whole way up, I kept telling her, "Zara, we can do hard things. We don't have to do them all at once. We just take this section, take a break, and go again." About two-thirds of the way up, she asked me to play the Miley Cyrus song about the climb, and we hiked through the hardest stretch with that song playing, the one about how life is a climb, how it's a journey, how it's about one step in front of the other instead of rushing toward the destination.

Coming down turned out to be harder than going up. She had tennis shoes instead of hiking boots, the trail was steep and slippery, and she slid more than once. It scared her. We took the descent the same way, one small section at a time, and she made it to the bottom glowing with pride.

Here's what I want you to take from this one. Generally speaking, we should follow what feels fun and joyful. That doesn't mean we never push ourselves. There's a difference between pushing beyond a joyful stretch of effort, which leads to burnout, and pushing through a hard section in pursuit of something that brings real joy on the other side. When there's no joy waiting at the end of the push, that's usually a sign we've drifted from our authentic frequency. But when the joy is there, waiting at the summit, the push is part of the story. Watching Zara learn that firsthand was one of the best teachable moments of my summer.

The Bigger Picture

Alex couldn't join us for these adventures this year. His company went through a major acquisition and he was completely underwater with work. I'm proud of him for pushing through it, and we'll make up for the missed summer as soon as things slow down.

As for me, I'm so grateful I built a life and a business that let me take this month and give it fully to my daughter. Nature has a way of putting everything back into perspective, and this July reminded me why I keep choosing to build things this way.

I hope your summer is giving you moments like these too. Get outside in the cool of the morning or the quiet of the evening when you can. Let Mother Earth do her thing with you. And keep stepping into that frequency of authenticity.

Rooting for you with love, 

Kara

PS: Fun Announcement: For the past three months, I've been working behind the scenes on something new that will be launching soon. If you want a sneak peek, go check out my newly branded website. karabundedunn.com