Don’t Stop Now. Keep Walking.
I just finished watching Love Story, the series about John F. Kennedy Jr. and Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy.
Their story ended in fog and darkness—a tragic plane crash in the Atlantic Ocean. He was flying at night. No horizon. No clear sense of up or down.
And here’s what got me: when a pilot loses visual reference like that, the body can lie.
Your inner ear—your sense of balance—can tell you that you’re level. That everything is fine. That you should just keep going the way you’re going.
Meanwhile, reality is different. The plane is tilted. You’re heading toward the ocean.
But it feels true in your body that you’re okay.
He trusted that feeling. And it killed him.
I sat there after watching it, feeling the weight of that.
Not because our bodies are wrong.
But because sometimes what feels true in the moment is actually an old survival response—fear flying the plane instead of us.
Through the Lens of Expansive Living
Right now, so much is coming at us.
War. Instability. Fires and floods and financial pressure. A dizzying sense that nothing is solid anymore.
And I keep seeing people contract in response.
Which makes sense, right?
When a lot of energy comes at you—like a strong wind—the instinct is to pull in.
To protect.
To make yourself small and wait it out.
I learned this early. I was yelled at. I was hit. So of course, my body learned to contract. To disappear until it was safe again.
That contraction saved me then.
But here’s the thing: if we stay there now, we start living at the mercy of old fear patterns.
We become victims of global circumstances.
Victims of our own trauma responses.
And just like in that plane, what feels safe in the moment might actually be taking us down.
Your nervous system says: contract. stay small. this is not the time.
But your deeper knowing—the part of you that’s here to expand, to serve, to live fully—is saying something else entirely.
The question is: which one are you listening to?
What Expansion Actually Looks Like
Let me get specific, because this isn’t just philosophy.
In your business:
Contraction says: The economy is uncertain. People aren’t spending. This is not the time to launch that program or raise your prices or invest in support.
Expansion says: This is exactly when your people need you most. This is when clarity and leadership matter. Contracting now means you’ll emerge smaller on the other side.
Keep walking looks like: Launching anyway. Hiring the coach. Showing up consistently even when engagement is down. Making the offer even though your hands are shaking.
In your relationships:
Contraction says: They hurt you. Pull back. Protect yourself. Build walls so it doesn’t happen again.
Expansion says: Shutting down doesn’t keep you safe—it keeps you alone. The risk of staying open is real, but so is the cost of closing.
Keep walking looks like: Having the hard conversation instead of ghosting. Saying what you actually need instead of pretending you’re fine. Staying curious about their perspective even when you’re angry.
In your health:
Contraction says: You’re too busy. You’ll start eating better next month. You’ll deal with that pain after this project wraps. You’ll schedule the appointment when things calm down.
Expansion says: Your body is trying to tell you something. Ignoring it doesn’t make it go away—it makes it louder. You can’t serve from empty.
Keep walking looks like: Booking the doctor’s appointment today. Going to bed at a reasonable hour even though your inbox is full. Moving your body even when it’s just a ten-minute walk. Saying no to one thing so you can say yes to taking care of yourself.
In your creative work:
Contraction says: Who are you to write that book? To start that podcast? To put your art out there? You’re not ready. You need more training, more experience, more proof that you won’t fail.
Expansion says: Waiting for permission that will never come is just fear wearing a responsible mask. The work wants to be born through you.
Keep walking looks like: Writing the messy first draft. Hitting publish even though it’s not perfect. Sharing your work before you feel ready. Letting it be seen.
Don’t Stop Now
It’s Passover this week. A story about leaving Egypt.
Most people don’t talk about this part: most didn’t leave.
Most stayed in slavery. Not because it was good. But because it was known.
The unknown meant the desert. No clear path. No guarantee of what was ahead.
Even though leaving meant freedom, it also meant uncertainty.
So, most people chose what was familiar over what was possible.
Only a small number walked into the unknown anyway.
And here we are, in our own version of that moment, with everything going on in the world.
Are you going to be part of the contraction—pulled into the fear, the chaos, the overwhelm?
Or are you going to be one of those who keep walking?
Winston Churchill said it during World War II:
“If you find yourself walking through hell, keep walking.”
Not because it feels natural.
But because stopping in the middle of hell is not the path forward.
Because life is not waiting.
Spring is here.
Birds are chirping.
Trees are budding.
Flowers are opening.
Life is bursting forward whether we’re ready or not.
This is the moment to ask for help. To take a real step forward, even if it goes against your instinct to contract.
Because that instinct may be screaming at you to pull back.
But something deeper is asking you to expand.
To walk.
Try This
Choose one place in your life right now where you feel the pull to contract. To wait. To hold back. To say, “this is not the time.”
Pause.
Notice what the contraction feels like in your body.
And then ask: Is this old fear flying the plane? Or is this my deeper wisdom?
If it’s fear—if it’s the old survival response trying to keep you small—consider doing the opposite.
Not forcefully.
But with awareness.
Take one step toward expansion.
Even if it feels uncomfortable. Even if it feels unfamiliar. Even if part of you wants to stop.
Stay with the step.
Because this is what it means to keep walking.
Not because it feels natural.
But because something deeper in you knows that stopping here is not the path forward.
And when you expand—when you choose to walk instead of contract—you don’t just change your own life.
You change how you show up for everyone you serve.
You become the spacious presence your clients need.
You become the steady ground your community is looking for.
You become living proof that it’s possible to keep walking.
If you try this, I’d love to hear about your experience.
Sending your way blessings of resolve to keep walking,
Anna