NOTES FROM THE MIDDLE

Age, Life, Everything

November 30, 2025 Issue No. 02

A Small, Honest Moment From This Week

Have you ever heard of something called an Odyssey Plan?

I hadn’t, until recently. I came across it during a late-night scroll that began with “healthy soup recipes” and somehow ended with a TED talk from 2016. The Odyssey Plan comes from a design thinking course at Stanford, and the idea is surprisingly simple.

You sketch out three different versions of your life five years from now.

Three completely separate paths.

Three alternate futures.

No ranking. No right answer. No pressure to follow any of them.

Just an exercise in imagining who you could be if you allowed yourself to think beyond the borders of your current routine.

The first plan is usually the “expected” one. The life you are already living, just extended forward. Same structure. Same responsibilities. Same general shape. It is the plan that says, “This seems reasonable.”

The second plan asks you to imagine a life where you change something big. A shift. A risk. A possibility you think about in quiet moments but rarely say out loud.

The third plan is the wildcard. The one where you let yourself imagine the life you would choose if nothing were off-limits. No obligations. No logistical constraints. No “but what about the mortgage.” Just the softest version of the question: what else could your life look like?

I’ll be honest. I expected to hate this exercise. Anything that asks me to “dream without limits” tends to leave me slightly annoyed, cynical and if I'm being honest insufferably smug. But there was something strangely grounding about the Odyssey Plan. It wasn’t asking me to change my life. It was asking me to look at it. And . . . you know . . . backed by Stanford couldn't be all wrong.

So I tried it.

My first plan looked almost identical to my real life. Same commitments. Same pace. Same long list of things I will “get to eventually.” It felt safe, but also a little stale.

My second plan was more honest. A life with more writing and less rushing. A future where I stopped pretending I enjoy being busy for the sake of being busy.

The third plan surprised me. It wasn’t about accumulating more. It was about subtracting. Fewer obligations. More open days. A life with enough space to hear myself think.

None of the plans were perfect. But each one revealed something I had quietly avoided acknowledging. That I have options. That my life is not a single track. That the middle of life can still bend in many directions.

And it made me wonder about you.

If you created three versions of your future, what would they look like?

What would appear on the page before you had time to talk yourself out of it?

Which parts of your current life would you keep exactly as they are because they already feel right?

The Odyssey Plan is not about ambition. It is about curiosity. It is a small invitation to check in with the person you are becoming, rather than the one you are endlessly managing.

If you ever try it, I hope something surprises you.

I hope something familiar comforts you.

And I hope at least one version of your imagined life feels like a quiet exhale.

— Danielle

The Midlife Syllabus

Lesson #2:
Your life is not a single story you must finish out of politeness.

Beauty, Grace & Daily Artistry

I changed the cartridge in my fountain pen and took that first slow stroke across the page. If you know, you know.

There is something about the way the ink glides when everything is newly aligned — smooth, confident, a little luxurious for no reason at all. It is such a tiny thing. A thin line of ink on paper. A small, private ceremony. But for a moment, the world feels tidy. Manageable. Almost elegant.

I’m always surprised by how calming it is — that first stroke after the refill. A reminder that small rituals matter. That we can create our own sense of steadiness in ways that have nothing to do with productivity or accomplishment. Just one clean line. A quiet beginning. Ink settling into paper like it knows exactly what to do. Maybe that is the real artistry of daily life. Finding the little things that return you to yourself, even if only for the length of a single line.

What I'm Reading, Watching or Listening to

Watching:

Succession (for the third time)

» I started watching Succession again this week. For the third time. Which feels slightly excessive, except it also feels strangely comforting. There is something soothing about watching a billionaire family implode while I sit in bed eating crackers. I also recently learned the show was shot on actual film, which explained far too much about myself. Once again, I have proven that I am chronically drawn to the most expensive production choices without knowing it. It is a curse. Or a talent. I am undecided. Every rewatch gives me something new. A throwaway line I missed. A glance that says more than the entire monologue that follows. A cashmere sweater that I then spend 45 minutes trying to find online. A moment of tenderness that lasts half a second and then disappears like it never happened.

» Read it

This Week on the Blog

If you missed it, here’s the piece I wrote this week about why I won't be “finishing strong”:

⟶ Read more