How Are You?
A Question that Feels Different Right Now
“How are you?”
It is one of the most common questions we ask, often in passing, often without thinking. A polite greeting. A reflexive opener. A phrase that usually expects a simple answer.
But lately, that question feels heavier.
With everything happening in the world, “How are you?” can land differently depending on the day, the moment, even the minute. For many of us, myself included, it is not a question with a neat or consistent answer. Grief, uncertainty, fear, and exhaustion coexist alongside gratitude, hope, and moments of genuine joy. We are carrying multiple truths at once.
Some people are deeply scared. Others are doing their best to keep moving forward by focusing on the everyday rhythms of life. I feel compassion for both. Sometimes we need to sit with the weight of what is happening. Sometimes we need to look away in order to function. Neither response is wrong. Both are human.
What this season has reinforced for me is the importance of authenticity—how we show up in our personal lives, in our work, and in the stories we choose to tell. Authenticity is not about oversharing or having the perfect words. It is about honoring what is real, even when it is complicated or uncomfortable.
In my work, that has meant being more thoughtful and intentional with language. It has meant adjusting messaging to acknowledge heaviness while still making space for connection, celebration, and community. It has meant recognizing that people are showing up with full hearts and full histories, and that our words matter more than ever.
I have been privileged to work with leaders and organizations who understand the power of pause—the power of sitting in the quiet, reflecting, and choosing words with care. There is strength in slowing down, in turning inward, and in allowing our messaging to come from a place of empathy and clarity.
And yet, I still feel energized. I feel inspired by the stories I get to share. I feel hope when I see communities coming together, offering support, and creating moments of joy amid difficulty. Those moments matter. They remind us that connection is still possible, and that light still exists, even in uncertain times.
So I will ask again: How are you?
Not as a greeting. Not as a formality. But as an invitation. Be honest, with yourself and with others. Some days the answer will be hopeful. Some days it will be heavy. Both are valid.
I am here to listen. I am here to talk. And I am grateful for the space to share these reflections.
Wishing us all gentler days ahead.
