The most meaningful work isn't about what you leave behind—it's about what you bring forward.

When I stepped away from my traditional education role in June 2025, I didn't believe I was retiring from education. Instead, I was stepping toward a different way of serving. After decades of serving in classrooms, schools, and district offices, I wondered how my experience, once retired, could contribute differently to the field I believe in so strongly.

Education's challenges—from teacher burnout to digital transformation—felt too urgent to watch from the sidelines. I wanted to leverage everything I'd learned in new ways. This wasn't about starting over; it was about carrying forward what matters most.

What pulled me in was witnessing talented educators I worked with pour their hearts into classrooms while navigating systems that didn't always support their vision. I kept seeing disconnects between research and practice, between policy and classrooms, between expectations and support, between innovation and implementation. These gaps became my calling.

This first year unfolded with equal measures of intention and surprise. Publishing four books wasn't on my original roadmap. Still, each emerged from years of notes, research on related topics, and conversations with educators facing similar challenges. My interest was in helping leaders leverage their leadership knowledge, reflect on their practice, and lead with humanity.

My consulting work reconnected me with the frontlines of education. Working alongside education-based companies, I've witnessed firsthand how the most effective solutions honor educators' expertise while bringing fresh perspectives to persistent problems.

Executive coaching has become my unexpected joy. Sitting with leaders as they navigate complex decisions reminds me that education's greatest strength lies in its people. I've watched brilliant administrators rediscover their purpose when burnout threatened to derail their careers.

Advisory boards have expanded my perspective beyond my previous vantage point. These conversations reinforce what education needs most: bridges between vision and practice.

I'd love to tell you this transition has been seamless, but that would not be accurate. There were weeks when I questioned everything, my timing, my capabilities, whether I'd moved too quickly or not boldly enough.

Initially, the edupreneur's path felt solitary, especially after decades of community-centered work. I missed impromptu hallway conversations and the daily rhythm of school bells. I struggled with impostor syndrome when transitioning into business conversations after spending decades in education.

What sustained me were messages from educators saying they'd implemented something from our work together and continuing to provide some guidance and support. Gradually, connecting with new opportunities began to take their place.

The skills that served me then translate perfectly now:

What's been most affirming is seeing how today's education challenges align with the services Valgar provides. We're not creating solutions in search of problems; we're responding to urgent needs with approaches informed by frontline experience.

As I stand at the threshold of year two, I'm filled with both clarity and curiosity. My platform QORA.Life, which launched last month, creates space for reflection about leadership, innovation, and joy in education. EduBridge.pro will follow in a couple of months, connecting educators with the resources they need without the need for endless searching.

I'm expanding coaching cohorts specifically for leaders navigating their current realities while supporting the wellbeing of educators. Beyond specific projects, my vision remains remarkably similar to when I first entered a classroom: creating conditions where people can thrive, where good ideas spread, and where education fulfills its transformative potential.

Last week, a former colleague asked if I missed "real education work." The question gave me pause—not because I questioned my path, but because I realized how artificial these boundaries can be.

Education occurs wherever learning takes place, wherever people grow, and wherever systems evolve. My work touches these same sacred spaces, just from a different angle.

If you're contemplating your own "second act," remember: the world needs your accumulated wisdom - your Crystallized intelligence, applied in ways only you can envision. The boundaries between educator, leader, entrepreneur, writer, and advisor are far more permeable than traditional paths suggest.

I'm profoundly grateful to everyone who's walked alongside me this year. This journey continues to unfold, and I'd love for you to be part of its next chapter, whether through collaboration, conversation, or simply staying connected.

P.S. If you know someone who might find value in this reflection or in connecting with our community, please share this newsletter. The most meaningful connections still happen through personal introductions.

1. What's Your Calling Signal? Think about the last time you felt genuinely frustrated about something happening in education. What was it? Now flip it: if you could wave a magic wand and fix that one thing, what would change? That frustration might be pointing you toward your next move.

2. Where Do You Light Up? Over the past month, when did time seem to disappear because you were so engaged? Was it during a conversation with a colleague? While solving a problem? Teaching someone something new? Pay attention to these moments—they're breadcrumbs leading to your sweet spot.

3. What's Your Unique Bridge? You have a combination of experiences that no one else has. What connections do you see that others might miss? Maybe you understand both the classroom and the boardroom, or you speak both teacher and tech. What bridge are you uniquely positioned to build?

4. How Do You Recharge When Things Get Tough?Let's be honest—there will be days when you question everything. What practices, people, or places help you remember why you started? Building these support systems now will save you when the going gets rough.

5. What Would Make You Proud Looking Back? Fast-forward three years. You're telling someone about this chapter of your life. What would you want to say happened? What impact would make you think, "Yeah, that was worth the uncertainty and hard work"?

1. The Skills Translation Exercise. Grab a sheet of paper and draw two columns. Left side: list 8-10 specific things you did well in your previous role. Right side: translate each one into how it could help someone outside of traditional education. For example: "Led difficult budget meetings" becomes "Facilitate stakeholder alignment conversations." Pick your top three translations and test them in conversations this week.

2. The Problem-Solution Interview Blitz. Choose one education challenge that keeps you up at night. This week, have informal conversations with five different people who deal with this problem (could be over coffee, phone calls, or even LinkedIn messages). Don't pitch anything—just listen. Ask: "What's the hardest part about dealing with X?" By Friday, you'll have raw material for understanding where you might help.

3. The 15-Day Mini-Pilot. Pick one small way you could help someone with your skills right now. Maybe it's offering to review someone's presentation, facilitating a tricky conversation, or sharing a framework you've developed. Make the offer, do the work, then ask for honest feedback. What worked? What didn't? What would they pay for?

4. Build Your Kitchen Cabinet. Every successful transition needs a small group of people who'll tell you the truth. Identify 4-5 people who can play different roles: the Encourager (believes in you when you don't), the Realist (asks tough questions), the Connector (knows everyone), and the Expert (has done something similar). Reach out to each one and ask if they'd be willing to grab coffee monthly to hear about your journey.

5. The Weekly Learning Log Create a simple three-question check-in you'll do every Sunday for the next month: