The Power of Reflection: How a Bulky Binder Became a Window into a Wonderful Life
It started as a simple goal in one of our coaching sessions.
Ann wanted to simplify. Organize. Clear out the physical and mental clutter that had slowly accumulated over the years. As she described the piles she hoped to tame, she mentioned a particularly unwieldy item in her workspace—a large, clunky binder stuffed with decades of lesson plans from her long career teaching vocal music and the Alexander technique.
It wasn’t sentimental.
It wasn’t curated.
It was just… there. Taking up space.
So, she decided to start there.
But as Ann opened the binder, not to throw it away, but to sort, understand, and pare down, something unexpected happened. What began as an exercise in decluttering quietly transformed into something much more profound: a testament to the power of reflection and savoring.
When Organizing Becomes Rediscovering
Ann’s intention was purely practical. She wanted to “weed out the extra stuff” she no longer needed. For years, she had moved this binder from office to office, house to house, without really revisiting what was inside.
But instead of a quick purge, the pages pulled her in.
There were workshop plans she’d forgotten she ever created:
College masterclasses
Church retreats
Theater workshops for kids
Cheerleader training sessions
Postural alignment work for her dentist’s office
A surprising session with a golfer
Notes from England and Ireland where she studied and taught
“I realized,” she said, “I had forgotten how many things I’d done and how amazing those experiences were.”
The binder wasn’t clutter.
It was a record of a life lived with purpose, creativity, courage, and connection.
Reflection Through the Lens of Savoring
Because Ann had recently explored savoring in our work together, she didn’t approach the binder with a critical eye. She wasn’t judging, editing, or rewriting her history.
She approached it with curiosity.
She looked with what she called “an eye for savoring.”
Instead of scanning for what to discard, she let the memories rise:
The nervousness of entering a room full of teenagers or strangers
The joy of seeing a concept land, especially with students who weren’t initially “believers”
The creativity required to adapt to each new environment
The deep satisfaction of helping others grow—musicians, actors, athletes, everyday people
The richness of traveling, connecting, and saying yes to opportunities
“It helped me frame the past differently,” she told me. “I realized I have a life—an exciting one. And that I truly love what I do.”
Reflection didn’t change her past.
It changed the story she was telling herself about it.
Letting Go of Old Myths
Before this exercise, Ann, like so many of us, carried certain quiet beliefs about herself:
“Maybe it’s time to stop teaching.”
“I’m not as brave as I used to be.”
“I’m not as brave as I used to be.”
“I’m not that vulnerable.”
The binder revealed something entirely different.
The pages showed decades of risk-taking: working across disciplines, teaching diverse groups, traveling abroad, and navigating unfamiliar settings. They showed vulnerability: guiding students through voice, breath, expression—deeply intimate work.
“I had to take risks,” she said. “I had to grow. I didn’t realize how strong that pattern was until I looked back.”
Reflection didn’t create new courage.
It simply reminded her of the courage she’s had all along.
Reflection as a Tool for Living, Not Just Remembering
What’s beautiful about Ann’s story is that the impact didn’t stay in the past. This reflection sparked insights that began shaping her present.
She shared a moment when she and her husband, Steve, were invited to a birthday party where they knew almost no one. She felt nervous. New social circles can feel intimidating at any age. But remembering her history of stepping into the unknown, she went.
And she loved it.
Her small group was assigned a short play to perform. They laughed, connected, and opened up. “If I’d resisted,” she said, “I would have missed such a wonderful experience.”
Reflection became a way of approaching her life today—not just revisiting yesterday.
So, What Is the Power of Reflection?
Ann said it best:
“I think I’m starting to feel like I’ve had a wonderful life—and I’m still having one.”
From her story, several themes rise clearly:
Reflection helps you see the whole truth.
Not just the pain, or the pressure, or the things you wish you’d done differently, but the meaning, joy, and growth woven throughout your life.
Reflection grows gratitude.
The more Ann looked back, the more awe she felt.
Reflection rekindles purpose.
She realized she still loves teaching, still has more to give, and still finds joy in connection.
Reflection strengthens courage.
Seeing her past bravery helped her choose courage in the present.
Reflection reveals patterns that matter.
Over and over, she saw creativity, connection, risk-taking, and a deep love of people.
Reflection can soften the past.
The hardships didn’t disappear, but they became part of a larger, more compassionate picture.
A Gentle Invitation
You don’t need a bulky teaching binder to experience the power of reflection.
Pick one artifact from your past, a notebook, photo, program, folder, or even a calendar page. Sit with it for a few minutes. Look with an eye for savoring:
What was meaningful about this season?
Where did you grow?
What strengths did you lean on?
Who did you become because of this?
You might be surprised by what you rediscover.
Because your life, like Ann’s, has been full of purpose, connection, and quiet triumphs you may have forgotten.
Sometimes the simplest act of organizing reveals the deepest truths about who we are.
With warmth,
Julie
