The Sacred Space Between Chapters
There is a particular kind of silence that exists in hospice care.
It’s not empty.
It’s not awkward.
It’s sacred.
It’s the quiet between breaths.
The space where families hold hands.
The pause before goodbye.
The moment when presence matters more than productivity.
Hospice shaped me.
Not just as a nurse.
Not just as a leader.
But as a human being.
It taught me that leadership, at its highest level, is not about authority. It’s about steadiness. It’s about who you are when the room is heavy. It’s about how you carry responsibility when the stakes are irreversible.
For years, I had the privilege of leading inside that sacred space.
Complex teams.
Grieving families.
Regulatory pressure.
Operational demands.
Human fragility.
Hospice leadership is not theoretical. It is lived in real time — where compassion and compliance must coexist, where emotion and execution intersect, where people look to you not just for direction, but for grounding.
I will always respect that work.
But something shifted.
Not because I stopped caring.
Not because the mission stopped mattering.
Because I began evolving.
There is a quiet truth that high-performing leaders don’t talk about enough:
Sometimes you outgrow a chapter you deeply respect.
Sometimes growth isn’t about climbing higher.
It’s about building differently.
The weight of constant responsibility, the pace, the travel, the invisible pressure — it began to compete with something else that matters just as much to me:
My family.
My presence.
My long-term vision.
And the vision became clear.
I don’t want to just operate inside leadership systems.
I want to build them.
I want to shape how leaders show up — especially in high-stakes environments like healthcare.
I want to help leaders develop the internal infrastructure required to carry real responsibility without losing themselves in the process.
Hospice taught me that leadership is sacred because people are vulnerable.
Healthcare is sacred because life is finite.
Leadership within that space requires more than skill.
It requires steadiness.
Self-regulation.
Clarity under pressure.
Integrity when no one is watching.
And that is the work I am now building full-time through Leaders on Edge.
This transition is not a rejection of hospice.
It is an extension of what hospice taught me.
Presence matters.
Culture matters.
Leadership matters.
And how we lead in sacred spaces matters most.
I don’t know exactly how every future chapter unfolds.
But I know this:
I want to build something that honors the sacredness of care.
That strengthens the leaders who carry it.
And that allows me to be fully present in my own life while helping others do the same.
Hospice will always be part of my foundation.
Now, I am building from it.

