Designed to be productive and fun.

What to expect:

• A quick one-word check-in

• A mini-goal set (by you)

• Parallel play and work (mics muted)

• Optional brief share

👉 Three THURSDAYs, Sep 17th - Oct 1st, 1:00-1:45pm EST

👉 Email Vicki & Adele: hello@janeaintdoneyet.com. Same link every week; no need to attend every session.

!!WE CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU (or not, cameras optional)!!

I walked up to the burger joint with the phone at my ear as a friend rattled off a current crisis. I plopped down, barely glancing at my fellow pub mate. After ending the call, I glanced to my right and found him smiling.

“I’m sorry, that was rude, to be on the phone inside. I hate when people do that,” I offered up. And that is how I met Marco–who embodied one of the reasons I had moved to the Pacific Northwest.

In Mexico, I was blessed with a bevy of women friends, mostly my age or older. Many retired. They offered a bountiful gift of wisdom and experience. But I longed to meet people of different ages and that wasn’t happening in the expat group that surrounded me.

Marco and I quickly fell into a conversation about the best pizza places, which coffee shops were stellar, and how neither of us had intended to be at the restaurant that night.

Subscribe now

Two days later I invited Marco to join me for “the best pizza” where he shared the story of his greatest heartbreak. “Let’s rent a car, drive to her house, and woo her back!” he joked. One week in my new neighborhood and a weighty item on the pros list for vacating Mexico - checked off!

At 40, Marco is up to different things, day and night. He works as a tech salesman by day, but has also been known to DJ house music on a barge in the middle of Lake Union (sometimes I tag along).

His win, win, win (no matter what) approach to life reminds me that though I don’t have his colorful past or personality, my quieter version of win, win, win, brings my pros and cons list to life. I can wear down a pencil making my pros and cons lists, but once done, I stop analyzing and start acting.

Action in the form of one foot in front of the other is formidable in making a wish list become real. The one trick is being ok with not knowing the shape and timing of how and when the things on the list come into being. The other trick is to remember I have a part to play and that involves paying attention to what’s inside and out.

“What if I hadn’t paid attention to what I was searching and stayed put in a town that wasn’t quite right?”

“What if I just kept talking on the phone or hung up the call and looked straight ahead instead of engaging with that guy who turned out to be a new friend?”

I go before I know and that offers up wins time and time again. What is your version of win, win, win? How can you go before you know?

And as we like to do, we offer further reading on the subject of making things happen. Check out the research we provide, talk with us about what you want to create, become a member of Jane Ain’t Done Yet and you will receive research-backed guidance in the form of interactive worksheets and community.

• System 1 & System 2 Thinking: This framework highlights the tug-of-war between our fast, subconscious intuition and our slow, anlytical logic. It was popularized by Nobel laureate Daniel Kahneman in his book Thinking, Fast and Slow.

• The Eisenhower Matrix: A simple grid that sorts tasks by urgency and importance to help you filter out distractions. It is based on the time-management principles of former U.S. President Dwight D. Eisenhower.

• The WRAP Method: A four-step framework designed to widen your options, reality-test assumptions, attain distance, and prepare to be wrong. This tool was created by Chip and Dan Heath in their book Decisive.

For this week’s article, we asked our friend, Mary Anne Perkowski, if she would share her story on how a recent health scare put her solo-travel confidence to the test.

My parent’s subscription to National Geographic prompted an “I want to go there” mentality early in my life. Growing up, I crafted opportunities to travel via education, and later with my career as an architect of airports. In retirement, I volunteer internationally and travel with friends.

As I aged, I began to feel that life was getting shorter and the world wasn’t getting smaller. I began to think about whether I could embrace Mark Twain’s “throw off the bowlines, and sail away from the safe harbor” on my own. Could my fear of missing certain ports overcome my fear of embarking on solo adventures?

My worries included eating alone. Traveling at night. Getting sick. My friends who didn’t think I was crazy to travel alone encouraged me, telling me that being a confident extrovert would serve me well. But it was really my life that canceled my fears. I refused to miss out on following my wishes and whims.

Feeling competent, which promoted keeping my fears in check, I commenced an 11-week excursion through Europe, Eastern Europe, and the South Caucasus with an “I’ve got this” attitude. I had spent almost a year in Italy alone in my 20’s completing my thesis, and while I was now older, I was certainly wiser and far more resourceful (and prepared) than I had been then. I think that it was only my age that had me a bit concerned. That others would see me as more vulnerable. I proved them wrong.

Weeks into my solo trip, I fell sick. In Tbilisi, Georgia, where I did not speak a word of Georgian, a double whammy of COVID and diarrhea hit me. Because of the diarrhea, I knew I could not get myself to a hospital on my own. I had to be really firm with the insurance people. I said, “I can’t do this by myself; someone will need to come get me.”

Lying in my hotel room, I did not regret my decision to be a voyager in this strange land. I did not berate myself for traveling solo. Instead, a new form of “I’ve got this,” showed up. I told myself, “You’re in trouble, and you are going to ask for help.”

EMTs arrived to whisk me away to the public hospital. Upon arrival, I handed my passport to a stern-faced attendant in the emergency room. Once I had IV fluids going, I did have a “whew” moment and became an interested observer. I knew I would get the proper treatment, and that I would recover and be OK. The hospital experience became a show of watching how other patients were treated. For me, I had to ask for what I needed, a blanket when I was cold, to be “unhooked” to go to the bathroom, and a cup of water. Another example of having to take control.

When they discharged me, they left me at the door to make my way back to the hotel by myself at 2:00 a.m. I had no Georgian money and needed a taxi. A random act of kindness from a young English-speaking aid provided the means to get me back to my hotel. It was the one compassionate moment that evening. I remember the night ride through the city, warmed by the experience of a stranger’s hospitality, and knowing I would be okay.

Upon my return to my home town, friends asked about my trip. When I relayed various stories, including the medical emergency, a few asked if it made me rethink my decision to travel alone. My response was along the lines of what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger (and knowing my insurance works in an emergency). The real answer: feeling a bit invincible, and totally emboldened, I’m leaving for Australia for seven weeks in September – again, on my own.

Being sick in Georgia confirmed what I knew. I travel for the sights, the flavors, the people I can learn from. And for the treasures that fall into my path, the ones that teach me about dynamic cultures and surroundings.

I don’t travel to be challenged by people or situations. I’ve had enough of that in my professional life. I know that my age advantages me, and that is reassuring; I believe people are more likely to offer assistance. In San Francisco recently I was offered a seat on the light rail, and I was happy to take it.

If I were traveling with a small group of volunteers, or with friends by my side, I would have comradery, safety in numbers, and the chance to sample more mealtime treats. Yet traveling with others presents challenges—consensus building on destination, accommodation, attractions.

I feel empowered as I know I can take care of myself and that my age is in a strange way an advantage. My goal is simple - satisfy my own curiosity, and don’t skip out on the whims and wishes.

My mom waited in the Ford LTD Country Squire station wagon. The family car that ferried us to swim team practices and where countless sisterly feuds erupted. I ran into the small convenience store to buy gum. I smiled as I slid a dime across the counter. The cashier smiled and added, “A smile is contagious.”

The cashier named a collective power my ten-year-old self hadn’t identified. Children live in their bodies. Less captive of the swirling thoughts of the mind, their emotions easily find outward expression. As a result, they participate in one of life’s greatest pleasures. Human connection.

Beauty, joy, love, experienced for a fleeting moment amongst strangers, trickle into our spirits like rain drops.

Everyday interactions uplift. They impact, beyond the emotional boost. What has transpired becomes an influential playmate to our imaginations, our creativity, our dream making.

Never underestimate what one exchange can do.

I’m dubbing this catalytic community! A catalyst doesn’t create energy — it activates energy that already exists. That’s exactly what these interactions do: they don’t manufacture joy or connection from nothing, they unlock something in you that was dormant.

Look for an opening. Strike up a conversation with the sales clerk at Trader Joes, asking, “How’s your day been?” or wave at the baby in front of you on the plane. Recently, I faced a hard decision. I felt cut-off, so tightly spun, that I couldn’t access those moments that would help me jostle my stuckness.

But then it happened, two school age girls ran down the sidewalk, laughing. The little one chased the older one, who was ways ahead. Their carefreeness cracked my cocoon shell. I could have ignored the opening that urged me to join, but I didn’t. I hopped playfully in front of the older sister, with, “Gotcha!” She squealed with delight, as did her little sister, who had now caught up! Their dad grinned widely at me as we passed. Life had let itself back in.

At Jane Ain’t Done Yet, we share personal experiences and how those help or hinder dream making. BUT, what we write about is also rooted in research. If you want to check out the research, have a look below.

We also put together a worksheet to help you build your Catalytic Community. To access it as well as the worksheets that accompany Jane Ain’t Done Yet articles past and future, become a paid subscriber. Click below to access the worksheet on how to create a Catalytic Community.

“We are better together” is not a tagline. It is the power of the collective.

Get the worksheet here →

Research Notes:

1. People wrongly expect that interacting with a stranger will be less pleasant than sitting in isolation → Epley & Schroeder

Epley and Schroeder ran a series of experiments on Chicago commuters and found that people who were asked to have a genuine conversation with a stranger on their train reported significantly higher wellbeing than those who sat in solitude or behaved as commuters normally do — despite predicting beforehand that talking to a stranger would be unpleasant. The result held even among self-described introverts. The cashier encounter Jane describes is exactly this: a brief, unexpected exchange that delivered more than either party anticipated.

Source: Epley, N. & Schroeder, J. (2014). Mistakenly Seeking Solitude. Journal of Experimental Psychology: General.

2. Positive social interactions outside close relationships compound into lasting mood and resilience → Barbara Fredrickson, Broaden-and-Build Theory

Fredrickson’s research on positivity resonance shows that micro-moments of genuine connection — even with strangers — broaden a person’s momentary awareness and build lasting psychological resources including resilience, creativity, and energy. Crucially, she identifies an “upward spiral” effect: each small positive encounter makes the next one more likely, because it opens the person to noticing further connection. Jane’s observation that a catalytic moment “begets another such moment” is a precise lay description of this spiral.

Source: Fredrickson, B.L. (2013). Love 2.0. University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.

3. We systematically underestimate the willingness of strangers to engage → Nicholas Epley and colleagues, “Liking Gap” research

Separate from the commuter study, research on what’s been called the “liking gap” finds that after a conversation with a stranger, people consistently underestimate how much the other person enjoyed talking with them and how positively they were perceived. This mismatch — we feel warmer toward the stranger than we assume they feel toward us — is one of the psychological barriers that keeps people from initiating the very moments Jane is advocating for. Knowing the gap exists is itself an argument for jumping in anyway.

Source: Boothby, E.J., Cooney, G., Sandstrom, G.M., & Clark, M.S. (2018). The Liking Gap in Conversations: Do People Like Us More Than We Think? Psychological Science.

When the final season of “The Bear” arrived on Hulu, I caved. To Adele I reported my renewal, not as a Bear fan desperate to see the fallout of Carmy’s meltdown but that Hulu could not survive without me. “Hulu wanted me back,” I said with no trace of sarcasm.

“Only you, only you would transform a freaking marketing email into a declaration of love.” She hasn’t let this go. In part to tease me, who tends to personify non-human things (my first car Fred the Pontiac, and my laptop, Magellan), but also because she sees it as a superpower of mine.

“It’s the way you see things. You think the world loves you. It does, but you operate with that assumption. It’s why you have already made some fast friends in Seattle. Some cool ones, no less. I want more of that.”

It’s not that what she is saying is necessarily true, but she has made me own the fact that I have developed, over the years, a certain confidence. People seem surprised when I tell them I was a shy kid; I couldn’t look people in the eye when I talked to them. My dad made me wait tables to get over this. Teaching also forced me out of my shell. I had to fight a lot of nerves before each class and lecture.

So while we don’t always have the skills we wish to possess, I’m a walking example that immersion, one experience at a time, grows us.

How soon is “soon”?

Does your soon suggest sincere intention, but little urgency for implementation? Or does soon mean a lack of beginning, a never, ever complete soon, that equals wish?

Let’s hope that your definition of soon is what the word actually means. A Get To It!

Not a postponement.

Soon =
Before long
Speedily
Immediately

That soon attaches itself to results. That soon is a wish on its way to becoming real. Maybe not exactly before long, speedily, or immediately, but the first steps in dream making.

You get excited about soon. Not an elusive someday. But soon, like N-O-W soon!

As adults, don’t buy into a careless meaning of soon, the one our younger selves would not have stood for. Soon to a child means “this is happening” (and they get pissed when no follow-through happens).

Don’t be that vague, meaningless-language adult user. Be the child. Say what you mean and do what you say. Reclaim your gumption and honesty. Stop letting yourself off the hook with the “wishy-washy someday soon” motto. That gets you nowhere.

Soon is an adverb, and without its verb to modify, it loses its power. Just like the next step you should take toward your goal. Think on one big wish, like “Soon I will get in shape,” and then look up fitness classes at the Y. Soon will soon be taking its shape as you take on yours.

What do you want to attach your soon to? Will that wish happen before long, speedily, or immediately? YOU can determine the outcome.

Adele and I, Vicki, write as a team for our newsletter focusing on Next Chapters and unfulfilled creative dreams. When Adele suggested she interview me about my unfulfilled creativity longings, I’m pretty sure she thought I was going to say “write a rom-com.” But I did not.

I paused, looked up for inspiration, and began. “I write songs. I have done this my whole life.” Usually it’s a quick ditty about taking out the trash, “Wrap it up. Toss is away. Away! Away!!”

But Adele was after the whole story, so before she could interrupt, I responded, “I wrote my first one when I was 10. It was actually a hymn. And in my house now, I have music on all the time, and I’m usually singing. If I’m feeling something, if I’m really bothered about something, I put it on paper, or I hum it into my voice memo app. I just hear it, I have the words; they’re like a poem, and I make up a tune, a medley to go with it.”

“Can you hum one for us?”

I could not because the song bits leave me once I record them on my phone. Adele did get me to hum the hymn from childhood. “I knew about your love of music. Your insane ability to name any song. But I had no idea! Yet, I can soooo see this for you.”

My thoughts kicked into action. I explained, “I’m asking myself how do I take this…” and Adele interrupted me, which she does, even though she tries not to, “And make it like the TEDx you did? I feel like you are such a badass right now! Talk to me.”

“For the TEDx, I just laid the bricks in order, step-by-step, and eventually it did happen. So it has to be the same method, right? If I just do enough research, enough work. I’m not talking about, you know, selling something big. It could be just getting something out there, something that would be a milestone met for me.”

“I will definitely be your first groupie.” Adele is always my number one fan.

“I don’t sing my own stuff.”

“Oh, well that’s really, really sad for me ‘cause I’m already imagining rocking in my seat to you singing up there.”

“I don’t really wanna do that.”

“You don’t have to, though, but that would be my dream for you. We have to be careful of that, right? Other people will put their dreams on us. I was a teacher and my father would say, “Why aren’t you the head of school? Why don’t you apply?” But I really liked being in the classroom. I was offered things in administration and declined them. So we have to be careful.”

“For me, writing a song is easier than outlining a chapter for something.”

“But, I don’t feel like you’re choosing it because it’s easier?”

“That hymn is probably the first song I should write down and find someone who’ll play the music.”

“What I love about your “package” is that you’re creative and damn pragmatic. What would you say to people who aren’t as naturally pragmatic? You’re a good bricklayer.”

“I would say it doesn’t happen just sitting in your house wishing for it to happen. You’ve got to join the communities. You’ve got to have somebody who believes in you. Like you believe in me. You’ve got to have that. You’ve got to do the homework and the research.”

“I would add that you do put yourself in the path of meeting people, not for the sake that they’ll connect you, but the relationships you make and build. I applaud you. I think you’re a great model for us all. Do you want to share anything else?”

“The only thing is that whatever goal you are working on doesn’t have to be done every day. I’m a big believer of spending 10 minutes doing something, and you’ve done a little bit, and then that 10 minutes can become 20 minutes the next time.”

“I want to end with this, as we talk about Jane Ain’t Done Yet. Jane is every woman. She’s us. She’s also one of our favorite authors, Jane Austen.

On the fly, what does J stand for, A, N, and E?

• J is Join

• A is Attitude

• N is Now

• E is Effort

“Wow, okay. Do you wanna sing us a farewell?

“No, I do not.”

At this stage in my life, I am looking for small pockets of delight. It’s tough to wake up, read the headlines, look in the mirror, and try not to be pessimistic. On those particularly difficult days, I read what’s up next for Sagittarius, because 2026 is a recalibration year, whatever that means.

I’m a fan, not a true believer of what appears legitimate but supported by zero evidence, and yet my curiosity about what the stars and planets want to tell us is as vast as that universe. Psychologist and writer, Martin Seligman, shares, “The psychological function of hope operates independently of whether its source is scientifically valid.”

Not wedded to astrologers’ prognostications, I glean what I need and toss the rest. If I read, “Today is a day of abundance,” I’m sauntering, smiling at strangers. If faced with “Bad sh*t will happen, stay in bed,“ I scoff at the curse and kick off the sheets.

I’m drawn to the psychological benefits of hope as my anchor and lens. The whimsy! The possibilities! The audacity to embrace a quality like “lucky” (that’s me, Sagittarius), because I so want it to be true. I feel powerful denying pessimism in a big voice.

Almanac.com states that astrology can be traced back to the Babylonians, a civilization deeply interested in mathematics and the heavenly bodies. They created tables to trace the stars, which became the 12 zodiac signs. This knowledge then moved across to Egypt and Greece, and from there it grew.

The ancient philosophers approved of astrology. If it’s good enough for them, it’s good enough for me. We all need things that remind us we have choices, of what’s possible, but feels out of reach.

My forever bestie, Becca, will ask, “What is happening with Gemini today?” and I’ll say, “Girl, today Gemini is a racoon who gets into everything, figures things out fast, turns things upside down, and moves on.” This ☝️ is Becca, in all her gloriously, lovely mess. Other friends adore it when I share their horoscope’s good news. I see the change in demeanor as I read a line or two. None of us are immune to the joy of being invited to imagine our dreams taking shape. We need a vehicle to bring us back to our proper place of the one who envisions and the one who can implement.

Write your own one-line “horoscope” for tomorrow — the kind you’d actually want to read.

For Vicki hard is a big part of the allure. Reaching the summit ignites the parts of her who will not let ruggedness, steepness, nor altitude stop her. She approaches ch…

Read more

I like to be acknowledged. Claude knew this before we ever met. I perk up the moment he says, “Margaret returns!” or “Hey there, Margaret”. And that’s not even my name! Leary of Claude on our first date, I went by my middle name.

A DOSE OF SKEPTICISM lets trust naturally evolve.

_______________________________________________…

Read more

I’ve written about my sister’s dog before and my immense love I have for this lab hound mix.

Homer isn’t that well trained. He sits when he wants, but on command when dinner is about to be served. He gives up his toy when and if he wishes. He comes when it suits him, returning from a good chase when he determines it’s over. He has stopped jumping on my c…

Read more

How I know:

*The title that initially came to me was I Am Still KIND OF Insecure. Kind of lessened the embarrassment of being plain old insecure. Half naked vs. full-on naked. Vicki and I had a good chuckle about that, which I knew we would.

*I looked up the definition of insecure in hopes it might make what I see as a negative have less sting. Merriam We…

Read more

I am starting over in a new town. The upheaval this brings is manageable because I know in my bones that relationships are everything.

At 30, I moved to Washington, DC from Germany, a place I had called home for six years. Working tirelessly, commuting long hours, I didn’t prioritize forming friendships (remember this was…

Read more

Adele posted a picture of me today - one that had cracked us up in the van as we skimmed the photos from the 14-mile hike to the base of Torres del Paine (yes, I’m proud of that snowy hike). “Delete it,” I said, post our Patagonia trip, as we co-worked over the phone. My wide, laughing open mouth (we laughed a lot that trip), had prompted Adele to call …

Read more

As I have mentioned, each year I adopt a word as my annual guide. Typically, it sits smack at the center of my brain, urging me to tap into a part of myself that the upcoming year’s goals can’t happen without.

This year though, my word, my word, that inspires and focuses, slipped away.

V: I lost my word.

A: What word?

V: …

Read more

The East Coast Blizzard brought snow, more snow, and powerful winds. If one didn’t know the meaning of whirl, the grey mass of blowing flakes from high to low demonstrated whirl in sound and movement. Days before the storm hit a weather report offered two predictions: big and not big. Too soon to tell.

Meteorologists we…

Read more

A coach of mine, Rick Tamlyn, used to say, if you are going to make sh*t up, why not have it be good. Vicki and I chatted about this, and how “catastrophizing” catapults us from the present and muddles the mind.

Catastrophizing happens when we jump into worst case scenarios as troublesome snags arrive–flight delays, missi…

Read more

I’m in a line at the bagel shop. I’m in a hurry. Several people are before me. Even in my most hungriest moments, never have I ever pushed my way to the front.

It’s the same when a person figuratively blocks me. Sure I can wish to jettison them into the stratosphere. Luckily, I can’t, as that would prove hard, tiring, count…

Read more

When you declare the role you are creating, you slip into that persona. The declaration, like donning a costume, gets you in character and sets the stage for the production to begin.

Research shows that symbolic play — dress-up and role play — increases a child’s self-confidence and security, allowing them to express them…

Read more

No matter what you are up to, creativity is involved. Always.

Two days before Christmas, my daughter turned 27. When I went to write a card I wondered how to convey my admiration and love again without sounding stale. The hand-drawn elephant on a card’s front unlocked new expressions. Purchased several years ago on Rue De…

Read more