Midwinter

100 days into my law firm merger, wading through an ego death and finding color on the other side.

I don’t know about you, but this Midwinter in particular has definitely been a “tale of two halves”. After the dizzy glitz and celebration of December, January starts as a simultaneous jam-packed springboard and 100 day month where the sun rises a bit too late and sets a bit too early.

Midwinter hits different each year, and as a lifelong Oklahoman, I really try to appreciate each season for what it is, since we fully experience all 4 (sometimes within the span of a week). And when looking back over the last few years, the only commonality between midwinters of years past has been to expect the unexpected- there’s been an almost comical level of fluctuation in what to expect.

Example: In 2024, I hit the ground absolutely running- I kickstarted January by making the biggest investment of my own private capital to date to create the Foundry. That kicked off in the first week of January, and until March, every evening between 4-10, and then every Saturday/Sunday from morning until night was spent working tirelessly to crack the code behind what I knew I could create. On February 2, I did it- and the backend of the Foundry was created.

January 2025: The opposite. I was uniquely exhausted- a year of building and releasing an app, and downsizing from myself and an associate in my firm (without downsizing the workload) would be explanation enough. But midwinter of 2025 hit differently- my trigeminal neuralgia was so horrifically bad, I had to curl up in a ball in between client calls to recover from the pain of speaking. I had to wear my husband’s hunting mask to feed the horses, because cold and wind felt like electric daggers on my face. More than that-I knew the pain wasn’t sustainable, and that something drastic would have to happen. Intuitively, I knew I didn’t have the luxury of letting off the gas. I had to prepare to be financially stable when that “something” would happen.

So with those two extremes as my most recent reference points, I knew a shift would occur this year. I intentionally set myself up to hold midwinter of 2026 with a loose grip, because who knew what to expect. The changes in my life felt as if they occurred with the changing of the season.

I merged my law firm in mid-November, right as the end of the year craziness hit. As the leaves fell, something else did too- I anticipated an ego death with the merger, but admittedly, its ferocity caught me off guard. And really settled in post-holidays. When everyone was doing their new year planning, I was wrestling fully with an ego death/identity shift.

I’ve carried the title of “law firm owner” for 9 years- and it’s not just about the “flag” of the title of “law firm owner”; I was the person who brought in every dollar, performed every ounce of legal work, and satisfied payroll at the end of each week. It was a burden, but one hard-earned after years of dedication. A type of tenure not reflected on a diploma due to “years practicing”. Not to mention, the firm was the byproduct of a diagnosis that seemingly held no hope. The fact Paige Hulse Law existed at all felt like a lighthouse of hope, demonstrating that we can transform the worst “diagnosis” in our life to something not only life changing for ourselves, but more importantly, equally impactful for the people it touches.

Ego Deaths Are Weird

A subject ripe for an entirely separate article; you rarely hear the stories of the identity crisis that occurs with an ego death. Especially when you choose the thing that caused the ego death- you can feel like the world is tilting on a different axis, yet strangely calm at the same time. You’re celebrating and grieving simultaneously; you feel emboldened with your new path, yet as if you’re pioneering an unknown road at the same time. It is weird.

100 days in, I can confidently say: Merging with this firm was simultaneously one of the hardest things I’ve ever done (the admin); while also being one of the easiest intuitive decisions I’ve ever made, that has now delivered me to one of the most content points of my life.

Because of the Q4 timeline of the merger, that feeling of an “identity shift” hit full force literally (ironically), on New Year’s day. Not because I sat at my desk, pen and paper ready to take action for the year, but because it was the first post-merger moment of quiet. My family headed home, the whirlwind of the holidays quieted, and for the first time since the merger, I had a minute to slow down, and it hit me full force. Frankly, I didn’t know what to do (work on the app? Plan out my year in the firm (but how do you even do that?) Dive into Fairway Stables? Hit the gas pedal on the plans I have for the Special Forces Support Fund?). It was paralyzing, and I am not used to that feeling.

I chose not to “productively procrastinate” on manufacturing halfway resolutions, and to just sit in this awkward middle-season of change. I knew it wasn’t the best year to sit down and hold fast to a “strategy” for the year. Philippians 4:8 kept tickling my intuition, so I focused on those words: whatever is true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, and worthy of praise — think on these things.

Identity Shift Seasons

That feeling felt like a self-imposed gag order. Sometimes it’s beneficial to share the “messy middle”-other times, trying to cobble together words during those times feels forced, and unhelpful for both writer and reader.

I didn’t know how to share this shared dance of grief and joy; this incredibly odd feeling that I knew, on some level, was grieving the past to prepare for the future. You may not have ever felt a similar feeling, but I have a few times before; the day I had to give up my D1 scholarship as a sprinter; the day I chose to leave my first firm to start Paige Hulse Law.

There’s no roadmap for the “in between” phase, but….for me, at least, a specific choice precipitated each change. That means, on some level, I had agency over what happens next. When your identity feels obliterated, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed. The “next best step” is always the next best decision. In this case, I knew inherently it followed the rhythm of nature:

• The “stripping”-which has to occur for the trees, plants, etc to conserve their energy; repair and rebuild

• The “barren”- or, the feeling of midwinter, for most of us. The season that stretches on and encourages rest.

• The planting of seeds- or, those things we can do in the “off season” to prepare for the next

• The bloom

I point my camera towards nature every morning on purpose: I want to start each day attuning my eye towards this stunning world around us. To get out of my own mind and “plans”. I took a cue from the nature around me, and became quiet. This season was “midwinter”-literally and figuratively. I stripped anything ornamental, and turned down the noise. I’ve treated this midwinter as a pruning season, and I want to plant seeds for the next with intention.

In the fog of analysis paralysis, I just narrowed my focus on the next best step. And that meant meditating my mind on what was true, honorable, just, pure, and beautiful. That turned into a simple yet wonderful practice I will carry on-what I’ve started calling the “Good List”. Some days this is as simple as writing down just a few words that encapsulate those “things”, other days it’s a blurb of a story from the day. (I’ve been using the Jamie Beck planner, and have been delighted to turn this into a (nearly) daily practice.)

Memory forms around what we notice.

Arrows Pointing North

Slowing down has another effect: it makes direction visible.

I started this article in mid January, and chose to wait to publish in mid-February for many reasons.

While I haven’t quite known what to say in this season, these words started pouring out after attending a dear mentor’s funeral this week. If you’d ever heard me share the story of growing up in a family of entrepreneurs, but never once seeing my parents stress about the legal side of business because “Steve had it handled”; that was this mentor. His example shaped me into the lawyer I am today, in the most important ways- he showed me that it was not only possible, but vital to advocate for our clients was best performed holistically- showing up fully for the clients, and their families.

His standing-room only funeral was a demonstration of the incredible legacy this man left- not because of fame, or because he was loud or flashy, but because he embodied those Philippians 4:8 qualities. When delivering the eulogy, his law partner described him as “an arrow pointing north,” and the phrase stuck because it was exact.

Steve never chose the easy way. He chose the right one - immediately, consistently, no matter how hard. For decades. Watching his life reminded me that integrity compounds, and that when you stop rushing, “north” no longer becomes a question. His legacy has mentored me through this period.

Now, in mid-February, I am so glad I waited to finish this article. The simple, yet poignant words from Steve’s memorial service have stayed with me, and I just wish that I could share a piece of his legacy with each of you. I hope sharing these words does that, to an extent, but the thesis is this:

We never choose the circumstances, but we always have the ability to choose what to do in those instances. I say this with a nod to Steve, but when attention is clarified, direction steadies - and clarity returns in ways you can’t manufacture.

We don’t have to have the “full picture”- we just need to make the next best step, with integrity.

This merger was wrapped in deep prayers of wisdom, and yet, at the same time, laced with a clear discernment that this was the best next step-for myself and my clients. I knew this awkward “ego death” phase was just part of the process. It’s a shedding and rebirth and all exactly as it should be. Just like the falling of leaves feels drastic, this merger was. But the stripping has allowed for good things to grow.

My 2026 midwinter is proving to be an answer to a prayer I didn’t even know I prayed- the literal answer to my 2025 prayer of “God, please keep my palms open, and provide what I don’t even know to ask for.”

Look For The Arrows

This season hasn’t concluded, but I’ve seen signs that we’re headed in the right direction. Thank goodness for that!

My arrows have nothing to do with external success-as an enneagram 8, I’ve always had my own internal metrics for “success”. Or better said, I’ve always had my own way of knowing when something is working (or not). I didn’t have a name for it until college, but I have the great joy of synesthesia. When I read, letters are colors, making writing and reading an absolutely beautiful tapestry of colors. A whole article on this topic is up next (I’ve wanted to share about this forever), but the purpose for mentioning it today:

This time last year, I didn’t quite realize that the “colors had faded” slightly over the last few years. It happens so incrementally, it’s hard to identify. It’s only happened a few times in my life, but when I’m under too much prolonged stress, or just not living in alignment with my integrity, the colors will fade. When I “come back to myself” (ie, strip away what doesn’t work any longer), colors explode off the page. It’s both a joy and a solace in my life- I don’t have to achieve the “finish line”, or receive some sort of accolade to know when I’m on the right path. The colors have come back in full force since February began.

In Conclusion

All of this to say- odds are, most of you reading this don’t have the benefit of synesthesia to discern whether you’re on the right path. At the same time, odds are, we all have these weird “identity shift” or “ego death” phases of our lives, more than once. If I’ve learned anything from this phase, it’s this: we can knowingly, gratefully, and wholeheartedly jump into a new phase, and grieving what we leave behind does not steal from the voracity of that decision in any way. Take a nod from nature- there are seasons that require a stripping, but the magic happens in that quiet. Seeds are planted in those seasons. It’s an absolutely beautiful season, in it’s own right.

And as a final note- synesthesia is not magic. It’s just a more direct way of knowing that I’m in lockstep with my own integrity. I hope sharing a bit about it helps unlock the question of how that translates in your own life. I’ll be sharing more about that soon!