This episode explores what happens when unexpected life events interrupt your business and what it means to build a business that can continue without your constant involvement. Through the personal experiences of losing her father and navigating a record-breaking heat wave in France, Sara reflects on how business design determines whether a business supports you during difficult seasons. The conversation is especially relevant for business owners who want to create more resilience, sustainability, and space for life’s inevitable changes.
In this episode, we explore:
- How two unexpected life events became real-world stress tests for a business.
- Why building systems before a crisis matters more than reacting during one.
- The internal beliefs and protective parts that can make delegation and support difficult.
- How Internal Family Systems (IFS) offers insight into business leadership and control.
- Shifting from building a business that depends on you toward creating a lasting, sustainable asset.
Resources:
- Join the free training for spiritually mature women in business here.
- Subscribe to elle-même, Sara’s Substack
Key takeaways
- Life disruptions are inevitable, making business resilience a design choice rather than a matter of luck.
- Businesses that rely entirely on the owner’s daily presence become vulnerable during unexpected crises.
- Protective internal parts can make it difficult to delegate, trust others, or step away from work.
- Regularly practicing true time away from the business helps strengthen systems before they are urgently needed.
- Building sustainable infrastructure allows a business to support its owner through both ordinary and difficult seasons.
Episode FAQs
Why does Sara believe business resilience is so important?
She explains that unexpected events such as illness, grief, family emergencies, or natural disasters eventually affect everyone. Building a business that can continue functioning during those times creates greater stability for both the business and its owner.
How does Internal Family Systems relate to running a business?
Sara discusses how different protective parts can influence leadership decisions, including perfectionism, control, and feeling responsible for everything. Recognizing these patterns can make it easier to build healthier business structures.
Does building a business that runs without you mean becoming less involved?
No. Sara describes it as creating a business that is sustainable over the long term rather than one that depends entirely on her daily presence. The goal is greater durability and flexibility, not disengagement.
What kind of business owner is this episode most relevant for?
The episode is particularly relevant for entrepreneurs who want to build businesses that remain stable through personal life changes while continuing to reflect their values and priorities.
What question does Sara encourage listeners to consider?
She invites listeners to ask themselves: If they unexpectedly had to step away from their business tomorrow, what would continue to function, and what would immediately depend on their return?
Full transcript available below.
A little over a month ago, I was sitting at our dining room table in Bordeaux in what had become a kind of dark cave. We were in our very first heat wave of the season, an unusually early one. The area had never experienced a heat wave that soon in May.
We live on the top floor of our building in the historic center of the city. Our apartment is south-facing with lots of windows and glass sliding doors, which is beautiful most of the year. In the heat, it’s a different story.
When we moved in around New Year’s, we knew that the lack of air conditioning—which is common in France, especially in historic buildings—would be our biggest challenge during the summer. Most buildings here simply weren’t built for this kind of heat.
We made a plan. We had awnings over our sliding glass doors, traditional French shutters, blackout shades, three portable air conditioning units, and several fans. Historically, there had only been around ten days each summer when temperatures became difficult, so we thought we could manage.
Then our first test came in May. Temperatures reached the mid to high nineties for a week. We spent every day with the shutters and blinds closed, living in darkness.
What I hadn’t fully understood was that these buildings don’t simply fail to stay cool—they absorb heat. Day after day, the base temperature inside rises until your home becomes less of a refuge and more like an oven.
That same week was also the week my father was dying.
A few weeks earlier I had flown back to the United States to visit him. He had been living with dementia for almost four years, and after seeing him in late April, I knew it would likely be my last visit.
When I received a text saying he had stopped eating, I knew the end was near. My mother, my sisters, and I kept vigil with him over Zoom while one of my sisters was there with him in person.
One night, when it seemed his death was imminent, I stayed awake through the night. During those early morning hours I realized we would need to fly back to the United States for his funeral, and I also reflected on advice my business coach had shared after losing her own father.
She told me that grief deserved my full presence. She had taken two weeks away from work and even chose to meet clients with audio only afterward to create more privacy while grieving.
As someone who has written extensively about grief, including my book Handbook for the Heartbroken, I believe we do not give grief enough space in our culture, including in business. I wanted to live my values, not simply teach them.
That night my husband and I booked flights, a hotel, a rental car, arranged care for our dog, and then I opened my work calendar.
I looked at my client sessions, projects, and classes inside Herself CEO. I decided what needed to move and what could wait.
The entire process took about fifteen minutes.
I assigned a few tasks inside our project management system for my assistant, Heather, and when she returned to work she handled the rest.
That gave me two full weeks away. The first allowed me to be fully present while my father was dying and to attend his funeral. The second gave me space to begin processing my grief after returning to France.
I cannot imagine trying to coach clients, lead meetings, or teach classes during those weeks.
The fact that my business continued while I was gone is something I do not take for granted.
A few weeks later came the second stress test.
Another heat wave arrived, this one lasting two weeks. Temperatures reached record highs across Europe, and Bordeaux became one of the hottest places in France, reaching 112 degrees Fahrenheit.
Our original plan no longer worked. The building absorbed so much heat that even running the air conditioning units constantly made almost no difference.
One night I stood in the kitchen at two or three in the morning. The thermometer inside read over ninety degrees. Our dog would not stop panting.
I realized it was no longer safe to stay.
The next day we packed everything and drove to northern Spain, where my husband had already planned to spend time with his family.
Once again we had to drop everything and leave in the middle of major work projects after I had already taken two unexpected weeks away.
Through both experiences, one thing became increasingly clear.
The business kept moving.
This was not the first time I had stepped away for an extended period. For years I have intentionally taken substantial time off, including much of August and often part of December and January. When my husband and I married and moved to France, I stepped away for seven to eight weeks.
When I step away, I am genuinely away. I am not answering team questions, posting on social media, or managing customer support.
During my father’s final days I did not want to think about Instagram or business problems. I wanted to be fully present for one of the most significant moments of my life.
Those planned breaks taught me how to leave intentionally.
These recent experiences taught me how to do it unexpectedly.
They also highlighted something we do not discuss often enough.
We talk frequently about creating businesses that align with our values and avoid burnout.
But underneath those conversations is another question.
What happens when life intervenes?
Not if.
When.
When there is the death of a parent.
When there is illness.
When climate events make your home temporarily unlivable.
When family emergencies require your complete attention.
During those moments your business either supports you or it doesn’t.
It either has enough structure to continue without your constant presence, or it stops as soon as you step away.
The difference between those two businesses is not luck.
It is a design choice.
I’ve also been thinking about this through the lens of Internal Family Systems.
When I look at why many of us resist building this kind of infrastructure, I do not think the problem is laziness or lack of knowledge.
I think different protective parts become activated.
One part believes she must do everything herself because clients are coming specifically for her.
Another part struggles to trust anyone else to carry the work with the same level of care.
Another part has built her identity around being needed and holding everything together. For that part, imagining a business that no longer depends on her can feel threatening.
I recognize all of those parts in myself.
Helping them relax has allowed me to create a business that feels more sustainable, spacious, and steady.
It is a business that can support me throughout the different seasons of my life, including the difficult ones.
One thing has become very clear.
We cannot choose when hard seasons arrive.
We can only choose what we have built before they do.
I have been in business for more than twenty-five years.
The business I run today is very different from the one I led before.
After a major personal reckoning in 2019, I stepped away from almost everything.
In 2021 I began rebuilding from a completely different foundation with different questions.
Over the past five years I have explored who I am now, what business model fits, and what work I am truly here to offer.
During that same period I trained in Internal Family Systems, which became a central part of my work alongside women’s spirituality and business.
Much of those five years involved experimentation—trying different approaches, learning what felt true, and understanding what women needed in a changing marketplace.
Now I feel I have arrived at something that genuinely fits.
Looking ahead, I expect the next chapter to focus less on discovering and more on stabilizing.
I want to build something with greater depth and durability.
I want a business that can ultimately operate without me—not because I want to disappear, but because I want to build something larger than myself.
I want it to become an asset, a legacy, something that can continue beyond my direct involvement while creating a more work-optional future.
These recent experiences showed me both how far I have come and how much further I still want to go.
They also confirmed that I am learning skills I have never needed before.
I am currently working with two business coaches and investing in more rigorous support than ever before so I can continue building at the next level.
It is difficult work, but it also feels like the right next step.
These experiences arrived right in the middle of that transition.
They showed me what was already strong and what still needed attention.
That is what stress tests do.
You do not schedule them.
They simply reveal the truth.
They taught me more about my business in a few weeks than months of strategic planning ever could.
Before we finish, I want to leave you with one question.
If you had to step away from your business tomorrow unexpectedly—not because you planned to, but because life asked you to—what would hold up, and what would fall apart?
Sit with that honestly, not as something to fear but as information.
The answer will show you where your next layer of work is.
I came away from this past month deeply grateful for what I have built, clear about what still needs building, and more motivated than ever to continue creating the next version of my business.
Grief has a way of clarifying what matters.
So does standing in a ninety-degree kitchen in the middle of the night knowing you have to pack your bags again.
Your business can become something that supports you through life’s difficult seasons rather than something you alone must constantly hold together.
That is worth building toward.
