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April Reflections: On Journeying into the Unknown

“This was so worth it.” 

That’s what my nine year old daughter said to me after we hiked up a mountain in the hot - very hot - Palm Springs desert to check out an art installation.

“This was so worth it” means a lot. Let’s just say the hike itself was not her favorite moment of our spring break week...did I mention it was very hot?

I had no idea what we would actually find at the top of this summit and if this trek would result in tears or cheers from my reluctant companion. But, in this moment,  it was my role to encourage and motivate as we climbed toward the unknown. I packed plenty of water and snacks and celebrated her strength, reminding her of the joy of being free to move about in nature after a year so close to home. 

Over the past year, I have thought a lot about how the “unknown” is a big part of life. Getting comfortable with that notion can make the difference between getting by and thriving. We start new jobs, new relationships, new paths, new projects without knowing how it will go. It is our belief in ourselves plus the support of our friends, families, colleagues, and neighbors that give us the courage to journey into the unknown and hopefully come out stronger on the other side. 

Menopause is also an “unknown.” And unlike my hike, we don’t always have the support and awareness to know what we will need on the journey. We started Kindra to help women prepare for, manage, and embrace our bodies’ natural hormonal shifts. Our mission is to demystify and talk out loud about menopause so people have reliable and accessible information, as well as solutions, tools, and a community to rely on. We may not know where we are headed, but having the information and tools we need makes everything less daunting. 

Back in the desert, I was working on the idea of enjoying the moment. It seemed like a great time to teach my daughter that simply walking together in this beautiful place was all the reward we needed, and that reaching the summit was its own reward — no matter what was up there. Why? She asked. Because we did it together. 

So when my daughter proclaimed “this was so worth it” as we reached the top of that Palm Springs mountain, I had no idea if she meant the art, the view, or something else, but it didn’t matter. She got it.

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