Finding Strength in the Quiet Between Storms

The tsunami warning came and went, and we're still here.

I watched from a neighboring island as people responded in their own ways—some laughing it off, others stocking up on water, a few visibly shaken.

Having lived through a few natural disasters as a child, I recognize this feeling. These experiences get into your skin and stay there, creating either a soft immunity or a heightened awareness. I think I've developed the former—both gift and curse.

But this won't be the last time. We survived this scare, and I'm deeply grateful for everyone who reached out with support. Now, in this precious quiet between storms, I keep wondering: what can we do together to strengthen our community and soften the impact when the next one comes?

One thing I can offer is sharing what's enriching my life right now. Maybe you'll do the same, and we can create something beautiful together.

What's Capturing My Attention

Reading:

The timing couldn't have been more perfect. Just as the tsunami warning hit, I picked up a book from one of O'ahu's little free libraries—those wonderful bird-house-like boxes scattered across the island. There's something deeply human about borrowing a book someone else was ready to share, connecting you to a neighbor through their reading journey.

The book? John Grisham's Camino Winds. I'll be honest—I'd written off Grisham as "mass production fluff" after hearing his name on Brian Lehrer's show about bestsellers of the last century. Wrong again. The book is engaging, thought-provoking, and genuinely fun. I actually found myself sneaking reading time when I should have been working.

Lesson learned: Don't trust your biases. You might be pleasantly surprised.

I'm also leading my book club through Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment this month. Several of my beautiful club members have mentioned how absolutely dark and difficult the book feels. I understand—it's not light reading. But to me, this is the quintessential book on human existence, grappling with questions we ask ourselves almost daily: What is right and what is wrong? What do I have the right to do to another human being? Do I humiliate or allow myself to be humiliated? Choose integrity or lies? Use coercion to get what I want, or stay beautifully and proudly poor?

If you haven't read it, I highly recommend it. Yes, it's dark, but it's also profoundly life-affirming in ways that might surprise you.

I've also been deeply moved by Stephanie Kleine-Ahlbrandt's Substack reflections on life's fragility. Her courage to explore profound, painful territory with such grace and beautiful language is extraordinary. Thank you for being so present in your experience, Stephanie. (Read her work here)

Watching:

Honestly? Almost nothing. I've become protective of my time, leaving little room for screens—no judgment, just choice.

But Chief of War broke through. Despite my usual aversion to violence and war stories, something about this show intrigued me. Yes, it's intense and sometimes hard to watch, but the research behind it feels authentic to the historical moment. You don't need a connection to Hawaiian culture to appreciate it, though it certainly adds depth. It's really about life, purpose, and the choices we make. Worth watching—just not with kids around.

Seeing:

I just had the incredible experience of seeing Phil Rosenthal in flesh and blood on his amazing tour! Phil was most known for producing Everybody Loves Raymond, but for the past few years, he's been creating the incredibly engaging, thoughtful, and delicious show Somebody Feed Phil. The show is truly incredible—not just for its ability to capture culinary delicacies from around the world, but almost more importantly, for revealing human connection and our sense of belonging to humanity as a whole.

Phil carried my family through the pandemic. During the complete lockdown in NYC, he created light and warmth. He showed up with a smile, untainted humor, and his most signature giggle dance. He took us around the world, traveling through food, grace, and kindness. And he did not disappoint in person—seeing him live was a wonderful reminder of how food (and connection) becomes the universal language that brings us all together.

What I'm Creating

Four new episodes of Ordinary Talks with Extraordinary Women are nearly ready! The editing took longer this time, but the wait will be worth it. These guests bring wisdom spanning everything from children and screen time to the mystery of dreams, from beautiful design to finding peace in chaos. I'm excited to release all four in quick succession.

Kadri Vent and I just launched the first workshop in our Clear the Fog series—designed to help women find clarity in their personal and professional lives. The framework we've created together feels truly unique. The next two workshops are completely free because we believe in the power of human connection and growth. [Standby for the announcement on the dates!]

I'm also honored to join Kirsten Bombdiggity's The Post-AI Summit: The Next Evolution of Human Intelligence on September 3rd, which is literally around the corner. Kirsten was a guest on my podcast, delivering one of the most engaging and provocative episodes I've recorded—and one of the most popular ones too. The lineup for her summit is extraordinary, and I'm genuinely excited to engage with her again—she's fabulous.

Where Else You'll Find Me

The Istoria Collective continues to enrich my life with wonderful wisdom, learning, and caring, super creative people. They have an upcoming event in Nashville that I'm hoping to attend despite the distance. [Check it out—it sounds amazing.]

And the beautiful Book Club I'm part of now has a book-ful newsletter! I was honored to design it, but all the recommendations come from our incredible members. The range is wide and wonderful. [Take a look here.]

What are you reading, watching, or working on that's bringing you joy? I'd love to hear what's enriching your life in these quiet moments between storms.

As we step into fall—a season of transformation and reflection—I'm reminded that our connections to each other and to the stories that shape us become even more precious. Whether it's through a book borrowed from a tiny free library, a difficult conversation about mortality, or gathering wisdom from extraordinary women, we're constantly weaving the threads that make us stronger together.

Thank you for being part of this community, for sharing your thoughts, and for helping create something beautiful in the spaces between storms. I'd love to hear what's stirring your soul these days—drop me a line and let's keep this conversation going.

Much Aloha,

Olga @YelloBirdie