Isabel Allende's profound statement, ‘Write what should not be forgotten,’ in her essay Writing as an Act of Hope, speaks to all of us. We all have stories, or stories we know from our grandparents or relatives, that we have not taken the time to write down. It’s easy to think we’ll get to it, and it’s also easy to think it doesn’t matter. That everyone who matters knows the stories.

For many of us who were children in 1963, the assassination of President John F. Kennedy is a moment we cannot forget—a day when the world changed in an instant. Although we did not understand the importance of the world or politics, there was a foreboding sense of lost security. We were years away from articulating a sense of lost innocence. 

It’s a unique privilege to be a consultant with the OUR LEGACY book series, where we offer you the exclusive opportunity to pen your long-awaited Legacy memoir. Everyone has a story to write. Everyone has a legacy to pass on.

I am an amateur nature photographer and writer. I frequently muse about what these two activities have in common, and there are many. A main commonality is the power of observation and framing that observation so it is appealing to an audience. The photographer's eye sees a flower or the moon or the sun rising and knows how to place it in a frame, increase or decrease the light, and keep the subject as the point of focus. The writer knows how to frame a scene by describing it with words and providing an image in the minds of their readers. 

Standing at the familiar corner, I thought about the journey the deposit sparked and how a small action shaped so much of my life. Our lives are often shaped by small, seemingly inconsequential steps—moments, decisions, or reactions that feel like little more than a pebble tossed into a pond yet ripple outward in powerful and unexpected ways.

Letting go is a challenge we all face on repeat in our lives. We let go of who we were for who we’ve become. We let go of parents, children, homes, careers, and more. We can all think of hundreds of personal stories about letting go and finding something at the end of the process that offers solace, possibility, growth, or a new way of being. Joseph Campbell’s Heros Journey embraces and sets a familiar structure around our journeys of letting go.  

I relished hearing the stories I had never heard—stories about my Grandfather growing up with his two brothers and the tough times their parents faced immigrating from Russia and opening a fruit stand in Los Angeles. During this conversation, Uncle Lou casually mentioned how wonderful it would be to have all these stories written down.

Our basement became her studio—a damp, lit space filled with canvases, tiles, and jars of pastels. I remember wandering downstairs as a scared child: the spider webs, a creaky washing machine, a dryer, and damp and musty air. The scent of old books and art supplies mingled together. Among my father’s stacks of science fiction books, I would peek at her sketchbooks—filled with bold, abstract shapes and landscapes that seemed worlds away from our suburban home.

I was struck by the powerful message that the people we love never truly leave us. As a young woman who had yet to lose her parents, I found solace. Now, from an older age perspective, I find truth and peace. We long for them to be with us, and yet they are in our hearts and memories.They live within us, entwined in our daily moments and reflections.

The stories we heard at the memorial are not unique but universal shared stories of perseverance, innovation, and camaraderie. Everyone involved with the company loves to recount tales of late-night brainstorming sessions, the hurdles they overcame, and the milestones they achieved. Each partner's story built their character, values, and ambitions. They willingly shared their experiences with their families and inspired those around them, including young professionals like Gary and me.  

Your stories are not just tales, they are the threads that weave our family legacy.

Writing about our past and present experiences is a powerful tool for personal and professional growth. As we put our experiences into words, we often discover patterns and themes that might not have been obvious before. This process of reflection and articulation can bring a new level of clarity to our journey, our values, and the lessons we've learned.

As Lissa left, I was struck by the importance of preserving these stories for us and future generations. Our legacies are built from everyday moments; we keep them alive by sharing them. This reflection was a powerful reminder that we all have stories worth telling.

Mentors appear in unexpected places and ways in our lives and business journeys. It is enriching to pay attention to their cues. They plant seeds in us that may not blossom for years or decades. Time does not diminish their impact; quite the opposite. Who are your timeless mentors?

In this blog post, I’ll share practical advice on becoming a multifaceted real estate agent. By exploring various revenue streams and leveraging your experiences, you can maximize your career potential. One powerful way to achieve many of these goals is by writing a book.

These steps describe the journey, whether you are leaving home to embark on a personal journey of internal discovery adventure or leading the way in a new business venture.

In the heart of Highland Park, Illinois, lies a treasure trove of memories and melodies for millions of people—the Ravinia Festival. For over ten decades, this iconic venue has been more than just a place for music; it has been a backdrop to the stories of my life and many others. Ravinia has woven itself into the life fabric of my existence, from the rock anthems of my youth to the symphonies that lull my grandchildren to sleep.

As a ghostwriter, my passion lies in unearthing narratives in unexpected places. Often, the most robust stories are right before us, hidden in the rhythms of our everyday lives. Take a moment to look around your home. There are so many ideas for capturing your life's stories. For example, do you see that potted plant on your windowsill or the greenery adorning your bookshelf? Some of these plants, unassuming as they may seem, might hold a story—a celebration of memories, love, nurturing, and care for loved ones. In my home, the foliage isn't just decoration; it's a living anthology of our family's journey. Each story I share at its surface imparts and interesting tale on my attachments to four unique plants in my house. Below the surface are untold stories with roots deep into our family's history, each a living symbol of growth, resilience, and connection.