Hi friends -
It’s been a while!
I’ve been taking a brief hiatus from writing my weekly reflections simply because I didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to pull together my thoughts.
As I mentioned recently, I’m going through a divorce, and the process has brought up a variety of feelings - grief, anger, hope, frustration, and sadness.
It’s also been a season of scary and exciting new starts.
I recently bought a house in Knoxville, TN, near my family - and I’m living alone for the first time, like, ever.
Well, not completely alone - I still have Wrigley curled up at my side pretty much 24/7.
Being alone has been, well… lonely.
I spent my first night in the new house a few weeks back, and it was so quiet.
Just me, in a house that kinda echoes, surrounded by some new and old furniture, with only the sound of Wrigley snoring under his blankets.
I anticipated that quiet nights might be difficult for me, so a few months ago, I made a list of things I could do when I felt loneliness creeping in.
Things like:
Listen to vinyl records on my new record player (I like angsty woman music like Bonnie Raitt, Brandi Carlile, and Joni Mitchell)
Cook a new recipe
Take a walk with Wrigley
Take a walk alone
Journal
Call someone I love
Read on my back porch
Being uncoupled after two decades of being in a partnership is a bit of a shock to the system. Feelings of stasis and companionship have been replaced with uncertainty, trepidation, and a bit of excitement.
Although the quiet nights have been a challenge, living alone has been a goal of mine since deciding to leave the marriage.
I knew… like innately knew… that I needed to develop a closer relationship with myself - and to return to parts of myself I had lost.
I knew that, in many ways, I had abandoned myself over the past ten years - making excuses and sacrifices, centering someone else’s experience, taking on the performative role of a savior, and relying on work and productivity to self-medicate pain.
Around the time that I decided to leave the marriage, I came across this quote by Jamaican spiritual teacher, Mooji.

I loved it so much that I asked this Etsy artist to turn it into a print that now hangs in my bedroom.
For me, the quote represented a truth—that there were elements of my life that needed to be burned away in order for me to discover myself at a deeper, more aligned level.
A few weeks ago, my friend Sarah and I drove to the home I shared with Warren to collect my belongings. At one point, I was in the attic, separating my childhood Christmas ornaments from his.
While doing so, I came across so many ornaments that I’ve had for as long as I can remember—a porcelain yellow Care Bear, a construction paper bell I made in the first grade, crocheted snowflakes from my grandma, and a paper wreath with a toothless picture of me in the middle.
As I held the ornaments, I was reminded that I have a rich history of being Rachel long before becoming someone’s wife. Those pieces and parts of me exist still - and are perhaps closer to the true me than the patterns and personas I’ve adopted over time.
I recently heard this Carl Jung quote for the first time…
“Life really does begin at forty. Up until then, you are just doing research.”
- Carl Jung
I think his words aptly describe something I am experiencing - which is a re-envisioning of my life and of the person I aspire to be in the next season of my life.
As I discover this new (old) Rachel, I notice that I’m returning to many of the parts of myself that have always been true of me - my most authentic self.
I think about the young Rachel who loved to catch lightning bugs and who got a bit emotional when listening to James Taylor. A girl who loved to be in a room full of people and who thought deeply and often about faith, community, and justice.
As I begin to return to my truest self, there are some questions I’m asking myself.
Things like:
What makes my mind, body, and soul feel safe?
What kind of person do I aspire to be?
What type of people do I want to surround myself with?
What parts of myself need to be heard and acknowledged?
What dreams do I have for the next 40 years?
As I speak with my friends and colleagues, I realize that my journey is not at all unique. Many of us have had, or are having, our own versions of a reawakening or self-discovery.
I wonder if you’d like to share with me what you are learning and how are you are growing. If so, I’d love to hear about it.
As always, you can simply respond to this message and share your thoughts.
And, friends, thank you for allowing me to share mine with you today.
Warmly,
Rachel
Rachel McCrickard, LMFT
CEO/Co-Founder, Motivo
rachel@motivohealth.com
Thank you Rachel for sharing this part of yourself with us.
This is beautiful, Rachel. Thank you!
You put into words what I have been experiencing over the past two years. I have returned home to care for my father, and am spending a lot of time sorting through childhood memories, but surprisingly, not memories with my parents, but memories of me alone, riding my bike as a kid, driving as a teen, playing alone in the backyard. There were many things I expected to feel during this caregiving process, but childhood memories about my alone time were definitely not on my list. Thanks for helping me put this into context.