Hard Restart: Hitting Ctrl + Alt + Delete on Life

It’s been a long time since I’ve written a post, longer than I ever intended. If you’ve followed my writing in the past, you may have noticed the silence. The truth is, the last three years have been full. 

Full of change. 

Full of transition. 

Full in ways that demanded more living than reflection on a page.

During that time, I changed roles, moved cities, navigated significant personal shifts, and completed my dissertation. The writing didn’t stop; it simply shifted. It became structured, academic, and necessary, writing that met deadlines rather than held space. There was little room left for the kind of writing that helps us process, make meaning, and breathe.

And then life handed me a hard stop.

For me, that stop came in the form of surgery. Recovery forced stillness in a way no calendar ever could. It pressed pause on the momentum, the problem-solving, the constant forward motion. It created space, uncomfortable at first, but necessary, for reflection, recalibration, and a reset I didn’t know I needed.

Sometimes life doesn’t offer a gentle refresh. Sometimes it’s Ctrl + Alt + Delete, everything freezes, the screen goes blank, and you’re left waiting to decide what comes next. It’s disorienting. It’s humbling. But it’s also an invitation.

An invitation to ask different questions.
An invitation to notice your energy.
An invitation to choose your next chapter with intention.

For me, this restart has been both personal and professional. It’s been about finding new rhythms in my days, in my leadership, and in how I show up for others. As a principal, I spend my days in moments: greeting students at the front door, walking hallways, sitting in the lunchroom, showing up at events, and connecting in the community. These interactions have always mattered, but this season reminded me just how much.

Leadership has never been about position. It’s about presence. And presence requires energy, clarity, and intention. When life forces a reset, it asks us to examine whether the way we’ve been living and leading is sustainable, or simply familiar.

A hard restart doesn’t erase who we’ve been. It refines it. It gives us the chance to release patterns that no longer serve us and to carry forward those that do. It invites us to lead and live with greater awareness, joy, and connection, not someday, but now.

Keys for Moving Forward After a Hard Restart

If you find yourself in a similar season, paused, disrupted, or standing at a blank screen, here are a few lessons I’m carrying forward:

1. Acknowledge the Stop
Don’t rush past it. Name it. Honor it. Hard stops are often signals, not setbacks.

2. Make Space to Grieve What Was
Even necessary restarts come with loss, of plans, expectations, identities, or seasons of life. Give yourself permission to grieve what you thought would be. Grief isn’t a weakness; it’s part of healing and moving forward.

3. Take Inventory of Your Energy
Notice what drains you and what restores you. Energy is information. Pay attention to it.

4. Lean In to Small Moments
You don’t need a grand plan. Presence in small interactions builds momentum and meaning. 

5. Reconnect With What Grounds You
This may be spirituality, reflection, time in nature, prayer, meditation, journaling, or simply quiet. Whatever it looks like for you, lean into the practices that help you reconnect with your inner compass and sense of purpose.

6. Reset Your Rhythms
Create rhythms that are sustainable, not just productive. Consistency matters more than intensity.

7. Choose Joy on Purpose
Joy isn’t a reward for getting through hard things. It’s a practice that helps you get through them.

8. Give Yourself Permission to Evolve
You are allowed to change. You are allowed to restart. Growth often looks like letting go.

9. Lean on Your Village 

There are people in your life who will love you through every season, lean on them. Let them show up for you. They will remind you of your strength when you can’t see it yourself. I am incredibly thankful for those who have stood beside me through this journey, especially in the hard moments.

10. There’s no Script

There’s no script. No timeline. No “right” way to heal. You may have to blaze your own path through the heartbreak, and that’s more than okay. Be your authentic self, and grow in the ways that are meant for you.

I don’t know exactly what this next chapter will hold, but I know how I want to show up, in leadership, in life, and in the moments that matter most. Sometimes the ultimate hard stop is not the end of the story, but the reset that allows us to write the next one with more clarity, courage, and intention.

If you’re staring at your own blank screen, take a breath. Lean in. And trust that restarting doesn’t mean starting over; it means starting aligned to who you are now.