What Mornings with Hank Taught Me About Rebranding

My mornings begin at the window with my guy, Hank. We walk to the big window and watch the light flicker over empty streets. It’s a slow and easy, beautiful way to welcome the day. One that has become routine, or more so ritual from the symbology of the action. We open the blinds and stand in observance of the world when it is most quiet. I can’t speak for Hank, but I feel like there’s a connection of the ritual of the observation that reminds us we’re still here, and we still move forward. Even though for my family, and Hank this has looked different over the years.

I think of all the ways we’ve kept going together. I think of the unspoken pact we made, in the aftermath of loss and change, that we’d both keep moving forward, one step at a time, even when the days felt too heavy.

After my son died, Hank came to live with me. His presence filled the hollowed-out spaces, offering warmth where it felt like none could exist. We’ve been through so much together. 

We’ve walked through grief, the kind that clings to your skin, and we’ve walked through joy, the kind that surprises you on an ordinary Tuesday, reminding you that the world still holds beauty, even in its brokenness.

Hank has been my teacher, and lately, as he ages, those lessons have only deepened. 

Watching him navigate his days has brought me to the realization that resilience isn’t about charging forward with unrelenting force. It’s about finding the flow, pacing yourself, and understanding that rest and ease is just as important as action. It’s a lesson that’s woven its way into how I think about design, about branding, and, more personally, about rebranding the overwhelm that comes with transformation.

As a designer, I’ve learned that creating impactful work doesn’t always mean pushing endlessly. It’s about intentional action and moving with purpose. Hank, with his soft graying face and deliberate steps, has shown me that sometimes the quickest way to get results is not by rushing, but by knowing when to be strategic and focus. Although it’s not always easy, I’ve learned to embrace this balance, working with the energy of doing, but also allowing space for clarity and creativity to emerge naturally. It’s about staying agile and moving forward, but doing so in a way that feels aligned and effortless.

Another lesson I’ve been gifted in observing Hank, is that joy is a necessary part of the process. In design, it’s easy to become bogged down by expectations, by the fear of not being enough, or of not delivering the perfect end product. But watching this beautiful aging dog playfully chase his ball (albeit only once or twice before resting), jumping up to greet people, or pretending to have stroke so he doesn’t have to take a bath has reminded me to be lighthearted, to find moments of delight in my work, and even to take on work just because it’s fun. 

When I approach my projects with a sense of play, the work flows. Ideas come more naturally, the pressure dissipates, and suddenly, I’m not just  designing, I’m creating something meaningful.

Hank’s hips are weaker now; he stumbles and limps around. He’s slower, but he never gives up. He simply finds a new way forward — a different path around the yard, a slower leap onto the couch. I see him redirecting. In a sense, and from a design perspective, rebranding his old ways of doing things. Rebranding, whether for a business or for myself, isn’t about erasing what was or forcing something new to fit. It’s about taking what exists, what’s become worn or difficult, and finding a new direction. One that honors the past while embracing change. 

These insights inspired me to take time to reflect on my own brand and how it had changed so drastically, without me acknowledging it, or even realizing it. Once I recognized the significant transitions I had been going through in my personal life and how they impacted changes in my professional career, I knew it was time to approach a rebrand.

Rebranding my business was one of the messiest, most challenging processes I’ve ever undertaken, which kind of mirrors life, actually. It was, quite frankly, a bit of a shit show. But through the chaos, I learned how to embrace the imperfections, find clarity amidst the confusion, and ultimately create something that felt more aligned and true to myself.

I’m learning to let go of the overwhelm that tells me everything must be perfect, that I have to have all the answers right now. I’m learning to embrace the flow, to allow myself to be playful in my approach, and to remember that it’s okay to change direction when something no longer serves me. Just as Hank and I promised each other to keep moving forward, I’ve promised myself to keep creating, to keep showing up however imperfectly, and to do so wholeheartedly.

Resilience, I’ve come to realize, is about staying open — to the joy, to the struggle, to the unexpected turns. It’s about finding success and flow even when things slow down. About allowing yourself the grace to stumble and the courage to keep going anyway. Hank has been my guide in this, reminding me every day that life, like design, is an ever-evolving process. One that’s richer when we allow ourselves to move with it, rather than against it.

So, here’s to Hank. To the lessons he’s taught me about finding joy, about pacing myself, and about the beauty of rebranding not just my business, but my life. And here’s to all of us — those navigating change, those finding their flow, and those daring to reimagine who they are, one gentle step at a time.