I recently had a beautiful, sad day.
I know — what does that even mean, right?
In simple terms, I was sad. Yet, in the midst of that sadness, I had an unexpectedly beautiful day. And not because the sadness just up and disappeared.
It takes courage to honor your own needs, especially when they don’t look “productive.” Not because you don’t want to honor yourself, but because, honestly, it’s almost countercultural these days.
We’re taught that productivity means staying in motion. That if we’re not hustling, grinding, or checking things off a list, we’re somehow falling behind. There’s always another deadline, another email, another “thing” demanding our attention.
Rest feels like a luxury we can’t afford.
Feelings feel like distractions we don’t have time for.
And pleasure, before our responsibilities? Careful — we might get criminally charged for that.
But what if I told you that sometimes the most forward movement happens when you completely stop — or even cry?
Here’s a story about when stepping away was the best business decision I made — and why it might be yours, too.
Not saying everything was going wrong. But…
I was having a week. Y’all know what I mean. I’m not saying everything was going wrong. But… several things were irritatingly frustrating and, in a few cases, painful.
First offense: the past seven days were too full, so that already makes me slightly crabby. Nothing worse than having a zillion things to do and not enough sunshine time (Yes, I judge an agenda as reasonable or not by how many breaks it includes).
Second offense: One project was becoming particularly tricky for me—a piece of curriculum that wasn’t coming together quite as I wanted, forcing me into reiteration after reiteration, with my recording day looming in 48 hours. And, sure, I set the recording schedule, but I don’t use that as a reason not to abide by it. Once I commit and determination sets in, let the church say amen because it is done.
Finally, the cherry on top: not one, not two, but three different personal relationships—ranging from a new acquaintance to a full-fledged bestie—started showing some tension. Which, if you read my last article, was already a sensitive subject for me.
In one relationship, I felt misled. In another, I felt misunderstood. In the third, wrongly accused, thoroughly disrespected, and ultimately pissed (Forgive my language, Lord, but You were there. You know it took every drop of Your Blood for me to turn the other cheek). This friend crossed a line so badly, in fact, that I paused all communication because, honestly, the absolute nerve! But I digress.
The point is, I was reeling in sadness. Confusion. Disbelief. Hurt.
Cue the beauty
It was a Monday, and while my mind knew the plan for the day, my body couldn’t execute.
The emotional drain had me feeling lethargic. And this isn’t like me, but your girl needed a nap. I stepped away from my desk, took myself upstairs, crawled under my pink knit throw blanket, and sank into my Sleep Number. The new plan was to fall asleep, but apparently, I was too tired (or bothered) to even do that.
So I turned to my own flavor of comfort food: my playlists—and arguably my favorite piece of technology—my AirPods. I let song after song pull out of me every tear, every hiccup, every disappointment from the last week, and let it soothe me in a way that only true beauty could.
The music I chose wasn’t from one single playlist; my spirit guided me to each song, one at a time.
It started with an instrumental that, no matter how many times I’ve heard it, still makes me lowkey tear up. It’s not even a “sad” song; it’s just that I can barely take how divinely breathtaking it is. It’s the strings…ai yi yi. They get me every time.
I went from 1990s Mariah to early 2000s Mariah. From Billie Eilish to The Righteous Brothers. From Sam Smith to Michael Jackson.
And, again, these weren’t necessarily sad songs. They were melodic invitations to release.
When the grief of my parents began to surface, I turned to a playlist I titled Friday Nights at 611—an ode to my childhood home and favorite memory: Friday night dance parties to the likes of Smokey Robinson, The Contours, Elvis Presley, Chaka Khan, Curtis Mayfield…. A Smith-family staple that always brings me back to myself.
A Mac Dre Chorus
Next thing I knew, I was out of bed and vigorously cleaning; a task typically reserved for my angry days, but hey, progress is progress. I went from grief to joy to totally feeling myself like a Mac Dre chorus. Though he didn’t make an appearance that day, I did choose songs that sparked that energy.
I floated from 1960s funk to today’s praise and worship bangers. Skated on over to EDM and Caribbean-flavored dimes to—
Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.
That wasn’t a song, people. That was a call coming through — the second chapter of my beautiful, sad day.
When Joy asked me what I was up to, I told her the truth: “Oh, just… crying, dancing, questioning everything, folding laundry.”
I met Joy earlier this year through a business program we’re both in. A few of us from that program had instant connections, and this one caught me at just the perfect time that day.
There’s something undeniably electric about Joy. She’s real, disarming, and easy to laugh with, and she also just calls. When she wants to talk to me, she doesn’t ask for my availability — which, for me, is not the easiest thing to predict and often turns into a stressful question to answer — she just… calls.
So we talked. About the things we’re doing in our businesses and what we’re learning as a result. The things that are helping us keep our sanity. About a trip she’d taken, kind of randomly, just because she needed it and refused to deny herself this luxury.
We shared our new-to-posting-videos-of-ourselves stories and corresponding links, so we could encourage each other and gain a fresh perspective.
When I say that spontaneous call and my afternoon musical brought me back to life, I mean it.
Step away from it
So you see, this day wasn’t just sad. It was a beautiful, sad day.
It showed me that releasing my feelings—though it took me away from my workday—was actually a sound business decision. That phone call I stayed on for 2 hours, 12 minutes, and 47 seconds. A productive choice.
I can’t deny that because of that day—those feelings, those songs, that phone call—I came back that evening, and the rest of the week, completely recharged and ready for whatever was ahead. Not because I pushed through, but because I let myself feel.
Here’s what I learned, and what I hope you’ll take away too: rest, release, and real connection aren’t diversions from work; they’re essential to it.
That curriculum I was struggling with? I finished it the next day with clarity I didn’t have before. Those relationships with tension? Two of them reached out that day with genuinely kind, apologetic messages—and honestly, I was really grateful to receive them. The third? Still wrestling with what to do with that one, but I have forgiven them. That overflowing schedule? I tackled it with energy I wouldn’t have had if I’d white-knuckled my way through that Monday.
Sometimes, the most strategic thing you can do for your work is to step away from it. To lie down. To cry. To put on some earphones, pump up the volume, and shake what your mama gave ya. To answer a call from a work friend who just gets it. To let beauty—in whatever form speaks to you—pull you back into yourself.
Because when you honor what you need, you show up better. Not just for your business, but for your life.
And isn’t that the whole point?
A note from Erin: Thank you for being here! If these ideas or perspectives resonate with you, I’d love for you to subscribe or share them with someone you care about. If you want to make a change or when the time feels right, I’m here to help. Check out my NEW WEBSITE to explore how we can work together—or swing by my “CONTACT” page to say hello, ask a question, or start a conversation.
