Originally published as part of my weekly Behind the Stories email series. I’m revealing the untold stories behind some of my posts—offering a fresh perspective on the everyday. Each email also includes themed writer’s notebook prompts to inspire you to reflect and write your own stories.

A Lot Can Happen In A Month

The publication of my book “Tidy Up Your Life” is one month away! It’s a moment that represents years of thinking, planning, dreaming, and writing (and editing, and questioning everything, and editing some more). People have started asking me what I hope for, or what I expect to happen once the book is published. 

If life has taught me anything, it’s this: outcomes are rarely what we imagine. Take my journey as Tidy Dad, for example. My debut wasn’t marked by a heartfelt speech or a polished reel. It all began with a simple tour of my 14-inch-wide closet. At the time, I thought it might inspire New Yorkers to attend my in-person tidying workshop or hire me to organize their apartments. That didn’t happen. But instead, that tiny closet tour ended up sparking something much bigger. Six years later, I never could have imagined that it would lead to publishing a book about tidying!

Sometimes, what we think we’re waiting for — what we’ve carefully planned and prepared for or anxiety spiraled around — doesn’t happen. Instead, life surprises us with something we never expected, something we didn’t know we were waiting for. 

Over the years, I’ve learned that a lot can happen in a month. 

Teaching in Bulgaria

One month before I was set to teach in China for the summer (back in 2009), an email landed in my inbox: the program was canceled. I was crushed. Returning to China to teach was a dream (I’d studied abroad there in college), and my Ivy League grad school plans (the teaching program was based at Harvard University) felt suddenly out of reach. 

But before I could finish wallowing, a second email arrived: I’d been reassigned… to Bulgaria. Yes, Bulgaria. I had to Google it.

The next month was a whirlwind: preparing for this unexpected adventure, wrapping up the school year, and negotiating with my principal to miss the first week of the next school year. Not only had the program location changed, but so had the dates. Before boarding the plane, I received an email from my program coordinator, giving instructions on how to meet up with my fellow program participants in London before our final flight to Bulgaria.

That meetup never happened. My first flights were delayed, and I hurried to board the plane from London to Bulgaria without connecting with my group first. I thought I would meet them when I got off the flight, but quickly realized my baggage was lost (I vowed to never check a bag again), and by the time I filed the missing luggage paperwork, it turned out that everyone from my program had already left the airport. They didn’t know who I was — or that I’d even been on the plane. 

Desperate, I tried calling the program coordinator using a Bulgarian payphone but ran out of money mid-call. Penniless and stranded, I borrowed an office phone from a rental car company and finally reached my mom back in the U.S. My mom managed to contact the program coordinator for me. It took twelve hours for me to finally be connected with the program group. By that point, I was this close to hopping on the next flight home. 

Eventually, I made it out of the airport, and my two months in Bulgaria became one of the most solitary, yet transformative experiences of my life. I learned how challenges and moments of isolation can leave a profound impact on our lives.

The Birth of Our Third Daughter

One month before our third daughter, Margaret, was born, we took family photos — our last as a family of four. I remember sitting there, acutely aware that these moments were fleeting. The photos might not hang on our walls for long, as they’d soon be replaced with images that included the newest member of our family, but I wanted to freeze this sliver of time: the last chapter before everything shifted.

I remember feeling the weight of the moment as the camera shutter clicked, the anticipation of my life about to change in ways I could try to imagine, yet not fully.

This pregnancy felt different from the start. For the first time, Emily and I learned the baby’s sex ahead of birth. There was no baby shower or sprinkle, no carefully curated registry, no dedicated space carved out in our apartment for the baby alone. In many ways, we were less prepared physically, but I began to understand that this season wasn’t about setting up a nursery — it was about preparing emotionally.

I felt the kind of joy only the anticipation of a new baby can bring, but it was tangled with threads of worry and fear. How would we adapt as a family of five? Would I be able to give enough of myself to each of my daughters? Before therapy, I might have suppressed those feelings, letting guilt and shame convince me they were wrong. But I’ve learned to allow myself to feel seemingly conflicting emotions. They can coexist — joy, fear, love, uncertainty. One doesn’t diminish the other.

On March 16, 2020, Margaret entered the world, the same day that New York City shut down for a global pandemic. We decided to pack our car, houseplants included, and drove to our cottage in Pennsylvania. What I worried was unpreparedness — no nursery, no perfectly arranged home — turned out to be irrelevant. We faced a completely different challenge in the quiet of nature, together, just the five of us. 

Those months taught me what matters most isn’t a perfect setup or meticulously arranged plans. It’s the ability to lean into the moment, to adapt, and to navigate uncertainty as a family. It became a defining chapter, and Margaret’s arrival will forever be intertwined with the resilience and love we found during those days.

Moving to a New School

Last school year I worked a part-time schedule, teaching at school only four days each week, and reserving one day for writing at home. As the school year was nearing its end, I requested the same schedule for the following year. However, one month before the year ended, I was informed via email that my request was denied. I then met with my supervisor, who told me I could appeal the decision and reapply for the part-time schedule, but I would have to wait one month to hear back.

At the time, our older two girls were attending the same school where I taught, and we had a 2-mile walking commute together each way. During the one-month waiting period, Margaret’s 3K teacher mentioned that the 5th grade teacher at their school was retiring, and encouraged me to apply for the position. I went into the interview with an open mind, met with the principal, toured the school, and by the end of the interview, I was offered the job.

This new school was only six blocks from our apartment. After confirming that our older two girls could transfer there with me, I accepted the position.

This decision meant resigning from the school where I had worked for 13 years.

Looking back, I can see that my part-time schedule request being denied marked the beginning of a journey to once again, tidy up my life. If my request had been approved, I might not have considered applying for the new job at all.

Now, I teach at that school, just six blocks from home. All three of our girls attend the same school. We walk there together every day. We have the same schedule, so there’s only one pick-up and drop-off time, and the same breaks. Some days I even walk home to eat lunch. That “no” turned out to be a blessing, simplifying our lives in ways I never could have predicted.

Publishing “Tidy Up Your Life”

Waiting is complicated. The days leading up to a major life moment often fill us with anxious energy as we try to plan for what’s ahead or what we think is coming. But life rarely unfolds as we imagine.

Here’s what I’ve learned: What we think we’re waiting for often isn’t what we’re truly waiting for. And the outcomes — whether better or worse — can surprise us in ways we never expected.

Now, with the publication of my book “Tidy Up Your Life” one month away, I’m embarking on another season of waiting. Instead of letting anxiety take the lead, I’m trying to intentionally lean into curiosity and let the unknown unfold in its own time. Waiting has a way of amplifying our worries, but it also holds lessons we can only see once the moment has passed.

I want to embrace this month not with spiraling anxiety about what might happen, but enjoy the anticipation. It’s not every day you get to anticipate launching your first book into the world! 

So, what am I actually waiting for? I don’t have a clue. 

Writer’s Notebook Invitation: 

Let your reflections guide you — you might discover unexpected insights in the waiting.

What Are You Waiting For? – Write about something you’re waiting for right now. How does it make you feel — excited, anxious, hopeful?  

The Unexpected Outcome – Recall a time when things didn’t go as planned. How did it turn out? What did you learn?  

Visualize the Future – Imagine the moment your wait is over. What does it look like? How does it feel?  

Worry vs. Wonder – List your current worries and reframe them as potential opportunities or silver linings.  

Enjoy what you read? Subscribe to the “Behind the Stories” email series!

Check out the “Behind the Stories” archives!

If you liked this, you might also enjoy reading: