Disruptive Optimism and the Beautiful Mess of Becoming

A Wink from the Universe

Some moments in life feel like more than coincidence—like winks from the universe nudging us to pay attention. I find myself in one of those moments now.

Not long ago, I knew little—if anything—about what it meant to have a regenerative mindset. Then I met Nandita Mishra. What began as a casual conversation about learning environments unfolded into rich, eye-opening exchanges. Through our talks, I was introduced to a worldview that sees growth not as a straight line, but as something cyclical, layered, and deeply human.

Now, I have the privilege of co-presenting with Nandita to educational architects, facility designers, and learning practitioners—individuals who shape the spaces where transformation occurs. To say I feel honored doesn’t do it justice. I feel grateful.

Transitions and Transformations

At the same time, my own life is in transition. I’m preparing to take on a new chapter as an international school leader in Brazil. I’m slowly learning Portuguese, immersing myself in the International Baccalaureate framework, and recalibrating nearly every part of my day-to-day life. In a few short months, I’ll turn 50. I’ve “retired” from public education in the U.S.—but, honestly, this doesn’t feel like retirement. It feels like reinvention.

And that’s what’s striking to me. Everything—my career, my learning, even my family life as my daughter leaves for college—feels connected by something bigger. Regenerative design isn’t just about buildings. It’s about people. It’s about systems that replenish rather than deplete. It’s about creating environments—physical, emotional, and intellectual—where growth is sustainable.

What Is Regenerative Design?

Regenerative design, at its core, is an approach that seeks to heal, restore, and sustain. Architecture and education mean designing not just for function, but for thriving. It’s about systems that give back—where relationships, environments, and communities are part of a living, breathing whole. When applied to leadership and learning, it becomes a powerful mindset for change.

Enter Disruptive Optimism

This is where disruptive optimism comes in—a concept I’ve come to cherish. Disruptive optimism isn’t blind positivity or wishful thinking. It’s a deliberate, sometimes uncomfortable commitment to hope in uncertainty. Despite the noise, it’s choosing to believe that we can and must do better.

In education, it’s what keeps a teacher trying new strategies after a challenging year. It’s what motivates a school leader to reimagine how a community learns. And it inspired me to say yes to this new chapter, rather than settling into the comfort of what I already knew.

The Beauty of Becoming

Growth, I’ve learned, rarely looks the way we expect it to. It’s nonlinear. It’s messy. It’s both joyful and exhausting. And that’s okay. That’s the point.

I’m learning to welcome that messiness—not just in the polished professional moments, but in the quiet, awkward, in-between spaces where real transformation takes root. Those liminal moments—the ones between what was and what will be—are where the most meaningful growth lives.

This season of life is reminding me that transitions don’t end at graduation, retirement, or any particular milestone. They’re constant companions. And if we let them, they can be regenerative. They can bring us back to ourselves—wiser, softer, stronger.

An Invitation

To those of you navigating your transitions: I see you. I hope you find strength in the swirl, clarity in the complexity, and even beauty in the becoming.

If you’ve ever experienced a season of change that felt like more than coincidence, I’d love to hear about it. What has disrupted your optimism lately, in the best possible way?