‘Tis the season when I fly from sunny LA to my brisk New York hometown, perform a song like O Holy Night with my dad at the Christmas Eve church service, listen to a sermon about Jesus’ birth, then head home with my family to enjoy babka, light the menorah (depending on the dates), and pick our Chinese food and movie for the following day.

This all makes perfect sense to me.

Yet, I often find myself explaining it to folks with cocked heads, trying to parse how someone named Grace could be a Jew. Or how someone from New York City, with high baseline anxiety and strong sense of humor, could not be a Jew.

See, my “religion” is family, music, and community.

I feel closest to “God” when I’m singing with my dad, hugging and catching up with people I’ve known since I was a kid, and breathing in the scent of pine in a gorgeous stained-glass space, cozied up next to my mom and brother—and now sister-in-law and baby nephew.

Yes, the Jesus content is high. Yes, the pews hurt my butt. Yes, I have qualms with how many religious institutions preach love yet act in divisive, fearful, or hateful ways.

But I choose to be there.

Because this experience aligns with my deeper values. And because this church isn’t just any church. My dad (who was baptized and raised in a kosher home) picked this one when we moved from NYC to the ‘burbs because of the vibe and leadership. There was an openly gay, female pastor (a shock to the Presbyterian community). Congregants supported our unhoused neighbors, and welcomed them into the community. There was music, laughter, and true mutual aid.

So when I go on December 24, I seek the universal meaning in the Jesus anecdotes (and toss the rest) while squirming in creaky pews. Christmas is, in many ways, our annual reminder to unclench. The story reminds me that you don’t need perfect conditions to birth greatness. And a life led by love, courage, connection, and genuine service is possible. Even when you don’t come from privilege, and the world is messy as hell (secular meaning, of course).

Why am I sharing all this in a newsletter about careers?

Because this metaphor works on so many levels for your work life. There’s no perfect “church” (read: company, institution, professional group, working model). But knowing your “religion” (read: values, boundaries, deeper “why”) helps you put yourself in the best possible situation, find the good, make the most of it, and confidently leave what doesn’t serve you. Or, try your best, and then confidently find a new “church” that’s better aligned for you in this phase of life.

I wish you all a holiday. Not necessarily a “happy” or “healthy” one—that’s not possible for everyone right now. But one where you can be with what is, and find the love.

Onward!
Grace

P.S. This is my last newsletter of the year. I’m supporting current clients, running a workshop for Cornell (350+ people already registered!), then taking two weeks off to be fully present with my loved ones.

P.P.S. Holidays are a big time for reflection, and the new year sparks new beginnings. If 2026 is your year to finally design a career you love, I encourage you to take the first step. I look forward to connecting when I return in January!