Finding Joy in Life’s Detours: What I Learned About True Needs

There’s something magical about escaping the Arizona heat in September. This past week, we traded our desert home for our timeshare in Newport Beach, and honestly, it felt like coming up for air. The cooler ocean breeze, the sound of waves, the promise of quality time with people we love—it’s exactly what our souls needed after months of triple-digit temperatures.

We love Newport Beach not just for the weather relief, but because it means connection. It’s where we gather with family and lifelong friends, where conversations flow as easily as the Pacific tide, and where we remember what really matters when life gets stripped down to its essentials.

In one week, we managed to pack in so much goodness it almost feels surreal looking back:

• A dinner and musical jam session with friends from our old worship band—you know, the kind of evening where someone pulls out a guitar and suddenly everyone’s singing harmonies like no time has passed at all
• A Fall Fiesta fundraiser with my brother’s family, complete with all the chaos and joy that comes with community events and kids running around with face paint
• A magical day at Disneyland followed by dinner at our absolute favorite restaurant (the kind of place where the servers anticipate your every need and the martinis are icy)
• An entire afternoon dedicated to just being with my dad—no agenda, no rushing, just presence and conversation
• An impromptu dinner with our besties down in San Diego, the kind of spontaneous gathering that reminds you why these people are your chosen family

It was full and wonderful and exactly the kind of week that fills your cup to overflowing. We were riding high on connection, adventure, and that particular brand of contentment that comes from time well spent.

Until our car broke down.

When Perfect Plans Meet Reality

Now, before you start imagining us stranded on some desolate highway with our thumbs out, let me paint you the real picture. Our electric vehicle simply refused to take a charge. No dramatic breakdown, no smoke billowing from the hood, no AAA rescue from the side of a busy freeway. Just a stubborn car that decided it was done cooperating for the day.

The tow truck driver was friendly enough, explaining that we’d need to get the car to a service center that—naturally—wasn’t open until Monday. That meant an unexpected overnight in San Diego with absolutely nothing packed for an extended stay. No overnight bags, no extra clothes, no carefully curated toiletry collection. Just us, whatever was already in the car, and a night we hadn’t planned for.

Here’s the part that still surprises me: we were fine. More than fine, actually.

I mean, genuinely, authentically okay with this curveball that life had just thrown us. And as someone who used to spiral at the first sign of plans going awry, this felt like a minor miracle.

The Beauty of Having Less

You know what we discovered in that car? We already had toothbrushes stashed away—a habit from previous road trips that suddenly felt like divine providence. I had a fresh pair of underwear still in the shopping bag from a recent sale (thank goodness for those moments when you buy something “just because”). And when I showered the next morning, something remarkable happened.

I didn’t miss my brush. I didn’t pine for my usual lineup of cosmetics and hair products. I didn’t stress about not having the perfect outfit for whatever the day might bring. I just dried my hair with my hands, looked in the mirror, and called it good.

It was the lowest-maintenance moment I’ve had in a long time, and it hit me like a gentle wake-up call: we really don’t need as much as we think we do.

This wasn’t about deprivation or making do with less out of necessity. This was about discovering freedom in simplicity. There was something almost liberating about having exactly what I needed and nothing more—no choices to agonize over, no products to arrange and rearrange, no mental energy spent on the minutiae of getting ready.

The Ripple Effect of Kindness

Our friends in San Diego didn’t just offer us a place to stay; they lent us their car so we could drive back to Newport Beach to pack up our belongings from the timeshare. We were safe, comfortable, and surrounded by people who cared about us. The service center called first thing Monday morning, and within just a few hours, our EV was repaired and ready to go.

Yes, our carefully planned timeline got completely scrambled. Yes, we had to adjust expectations and roll with circumstances beyond our control. But when I stepped back and looked at the bigger picture, it was hard to see this as anything other than a minor inconvenience wrapped in several unexpected blessings.

Our dear friends gave us an unplanned place to stay. We discovered we could be perfectly content with almost nothing. We experienced the kind of flexibility and resilience that I’m always preaching about but don’t always get to practice in real time.

Reframing the Unexpected

This little adventure reinforced one of my most intentional goals this quarter: examining what I really need and resisting stress as my default response when life doesn’t go according to plan.

I’ve been asking myself these questions more and more lately:

• How can I turn this situation into an adventure?
• What is actually working out in my favor right now?
• What do I genuinely need in this moment versus what I had hoped would happen?

These aren’t just positive thinking mantras or toxic positivity in disguise. These are practical tools for navigating the inevitable detours that come with being human. They’re invitations to curiosity instead of anxiety, to flexibility instead of rigidity.

When our car wouldn’t charge, I could have spiraled into worst-case-scenario thinking. I could have let frustration and inconvenience color the entire experience. Instead, I found myself genuinely curious about how this would unfold and what we might discover about ourselves in the process.

Creating from Joy, Not Stress

Here’s something I’ve noticed about myself and my business: even with a full, busy life and all the distractions that come with modern living, I still manage to meet my goals—both business and personal. But here’s the key difference from my former life: I create from joy and purpose, not from stress and obligation.

This isn’t me claiming to be always calm and Zen-like. Trust me, I have my moments of overwhelm and frustration just like everyone else. I came from a corporate environment where the unspoken mantra was basically “crush it, suck it up, get it done.” Growth and results were the only metrics that mattered, and stress was considered the premium fuel that kept the achievement engine running at peak performance.

But that’s not the life I want anymore, and it’s definitely not the business I’m building.

I’m a high-capacity woman—I’ll own that about myself. I get a ton done in both my personal and professional life. I juggle multiple projects, maintain relationships, travel regularly, and still find time for the things that bring me joy. But here’s what’s different now: I do it all without subscribing to hustle culture. I do it with intention, with boundaries, and yes, with joy.

And that’s not an accident or some kind of natural personality trait. It’s the result of very intentional choices about how I want to experience my days and build my life.

The Gift of My Mother’s Wisdom

I think back to something my mom used to say when I was a kid, and whether she said it exactly this way or this is just how it landed in my young brain, the message was clear: “You’ll do it, and you’ll like it.”

To some, that might sound harsh or demanding. But to me, it became one of the most empowering lessons of my childhood. The message I internalized wasn’t about blind obedience or forced positivity. It was about recognizing that while the task itself might not be optional, I always had a choice in how I experienced it.

I could do the dishes with resentment and complaint, or I could do them while listening to music I loved. I could clean my room while grumbling about unfairness, or I could turn it into a game of rediscovering forgotten treasures. I could approach homework as drudgery, or I could find ways to make it interesting and engaging.

That childhood lesson evolved into something much bigger: the understanding that I have far more control over my experience than I have over my circumstances. I learned not just to “do it,” but to find ways to do it with delight—to discover the blessing hidden in the mess, the adventure tucked inside the inconvenience, the growth opportunity wrapped up in the challenge.

The Practice of Finding What’s Working

When our car broke down, I automatically started looking for what was working in our favor rather than cataloging everything that was going wrong. This isn’t denial or forced optimism—it’s a practiced skill that has transformed how I navigate unexpected challenges.

We had friends nearby who could help with a comfortable place to stay. We had each other and a sense of humor about the whole situation. The repair would likely be straightforward. We had the financial resources to handle the inconvenience without real hardship. We had flexibility in our schedule that allowed for this detour.

None of this made the situation “perfect,” but it did make it manageable, and even kind of interesting. Instead of a crisis, it became a story. Instead of a disaster, it became an adventure. Instead of evidence that everything always goes wrong, it became proof that we can handle whatever life throws our way.

The Sweet Freedom of Simplicity

There’s something profoundly freeing about discovering you need less than you thought you did. Not because you’re depriving yourself or practicing some kind of aesthetic minimalism, but because you’re connecting with what actually matters.

That morning in San Diego, getting ready with almost nothing, I felt lighter in a way that had nothing to do with the amount of stuff I was carrying. I felt more like myself, not less. More present, not deprived. More focused on the day ahead and less distracted by the details that usually occupy my mental bandwidth.

It made me think about all the areas of life where we might be carrying more than we need—not just physical possessions, but mental burdens, emotional baggage, outdated expectations, and unnecessary complications.

What if we approached our daily routines, our business strategies, our relationship dynamics, and our personal goals with this same spirit of curiosity about what we actually need versus what we think we’re supposed to want?

An Invitation to Reflection

As we move deeper into September and toward the final quarter of the year, I want to extend the same invitation to reflection that this experience offered me:

What do you actually need right now?

Not what you’ve been told you should need, or what you needed last month, or last year. Not what someone else with a different life and different circumstances needs. But what do you genuinely need in this moment, in this season, with these particular circumstances and challenges and opportunities?

How can you make it joyful?

Not every task or responsibility will feel inherently delightful, but there’s almost always a way to infuse more lightness, more curiosity, more playfulness into our approach. How can you find the adventure in the ordinary? Can you discover the blessing in the inconvenience? How can you choose delight over drudgery, even in small ways?

Sometimes, maybe especially, we find our truest needs not in perfect circumstances, but in the unexpected detours. In the moments when our carefully laid plans get disrupted and we’re invited to discover who we are and what we’re made of when the script gets flipped.

Our car breaking down wasn’t part of the plan, but it became part of the story. A reminder that we’re more resilient than we think, that we need less than we imagine, and that joy is always available as a choice, even when, especially when, things don’t go as planned.

What unexpected detour might be offering you a gift you haven’t recognized yet? What would change if you approached your next challenge with curiosity instead of resistance? How might you discover something beautiful in whatever mess life is currently handing you?

The sweet freedom we’re all looking for might just be waiting on the other side of our next unplanned adventure.

If you’d like to learn more about establishing needs and setting boundaries, please check out this article on boundaries.