Today is my son, Connor’s birthday. He would be 36.
I say “would be” out of habit, but that’s not quite right. He is 36 somewhere…just not here, in the way birthdays usually count. He’s been in another dimension since July 2012, when a distracted driver ran a red light and hit him in a crosswalk in Oregon. He was 22. I was 52. Now I’m 66, and he’s still 30 years younger than me, which means I think about what I was doing at 36. Single parent, serving clients, Connor in grade one at Montessori, both of us figuring out life together in that particular way we always did.
He’s not gone. I feel him brilliantly alive, just… elsewhere. Thriving, actually. I call him Connor 2.0 as the expanded version, the one who’s no longer limited by a body or a timeline. And on his birthday, I’m less focused on memories of the past and more grateful that it all happened, because this is what’s happening now. The relationship didn’t end. It revised.
That’s the thread I want to pull this week.
This is a second draft kind of week
After the intensity of the last two weeks with the eclipse cracking things open and the big structural shifts landing, this week asks you to slow down and sit with what happened and let it settle.
The energy is never static. It will shift again in a few days when communication turns inward and reflective. Thank you, Mercury retrograde. That means things that felt clear might get foggy again, old feelings resurface, and conversations circle back. You might find yourself revisiting something you thought you were done with, like a memory, a relationship, or a version of yourself you outgrew but never quite released.
This is revision.
Think of it like rereading your own story with sharper eyes. You’re not starting over. You’re just finally seeing what you missed the first time. Or what you’re only now ready to understand.
What to expect
But first, there’s still some charge in the air. A restlessness, kind of an urgency that says move, act, decide. You might feel pulled to push, even though the ground hasn’t fully settled yet.
Resist that if you can. Or at least, don’t trust it completely.
The pace will slow, and your mind can quiet (or try to). Intuition takes over. You’re not thinking your way through anymore as much as feeling your way through. And some things can only be understood that way.
I’m looking forward to the weekend (already!). Things should soften further and make room for tenderness, connection, and the kind of conversation that doesn’t need to solve anything. You’ve been through a lot lately, even if it doesn’t look like it from the outside.
The belief that won’t survive this week
“Going backward means I’ve failed.”
I hear this one a lot from clients, friends, and the voice in my own head that forgets and thinks progress should be a straight line.
But then I remember that going backward is how some things get completed.
Grief comes back around because you’re ready to meet it differently now. Old patterns resurface as an invitation. A relationship you thought was finished asks for one more conversation. A dream you buried years ago taps you on the shoulder.
Like I said, that’s revision.
You’re not the same person you were when you first encountered that thing. So when it comes back around, you see it with new eyes and understand something you couldn’t before. You feel something you weren’t ready to feel.
Connor’s birthday comes back around every year. And every year, I’m different. The grief has revised itself into something closer to gratitude. The loss has softened into presence. I’m not going backward by remembering him. I’m going deeper.
Why this matters
This week isn’t asking you to have it all figured out. It’s asking you to stop rushing to the next draft before you’ve read the one you’re holding.
Let things circle back. Old feelings want to have their say. The version of you that you thought you’d outgrown might show up one more time to show you how far you’ve actually come.
You’re just in the revision phase.
And revision is what happens when you’re finally ready to see clearly.
Jonni
