The best birthday I didn’t plan for

I celebrated my 62nd birthday in Sayulita, Mexico, on February 22.

It began with Olympic heartbreak, waking early to watch the Canada–U.S. gold-medal hockey game. The Americans won an edge-of-your-seat thriller in overtime, not the result I'd hoped for.

But that turned out to be the least dramatic part of the day.

By midday, news began flooding our phones. Cartel violence in nearby Puerto Vallarta. The airport closed. Roads blocked. Cars burning. A cartel leader was murdered. Retaliation spreading across the state of Jalisco, the state we were in.

Within hours, our small boutique hotel was effectively in lockdown.

No taxis. No Ubers. No new guests arriving.

Our flight out? Uncertain. We were about forty-five minutes from the epicentre.

And yet… We went to the beach. It was a ghost town. Shops closed. Restaurants shuttered. Stray dogs wandering the sand. My kids and I swam in the ocean, almost alone, while the world around us tightened.

Before heading out, I messaged the hotel manager: “We’re going to the beach. Is that okay?”

His response: “Yes. And here is my number. If anything happens, call me.”

No drama. No panic. Just calm presence.

The nervous system advantage

What made the day even more surreal was that I had just come off a five-day retreat at RePrecision in Sayulita, a wellness immersion focused on resetting and optimizing the nervous system.

It may have been the best training I’ve ever experienced. Breathwork. Regulation. Awareness. Community. Learning how to stay out of the amygdala’s fear spiral and remain grounded and present.

That morning, before checking the news, I meditated. So, when the alerts began blowing up my phone, I could feel the pull toward fear, but I didn’t get hijacked by it.

The training helped me:

• Focus on what I could control
  • Slow my breathing
  • Stay connected to my kids
  • Avoid catastrophizing
  • Choose calm

The situation didn’t change. But my physiology did. And that changed everything.

Leadership under pressure

The hotel staff were not crisis experts. They were front desk managers, custodians, housekeeping staff.

But they did something extraordinary. They stayed calm. They communicated clearly.
They kept the gate closed. They monitored airline updates.

They told us: “You can keep your room until it’s safe to travel.”

That one sentence regulated the entire property. Calm is contagious. And so is panic. They chose calm.

The most beautiful part

Our flight was eventually cancelled. There were no seats available for days.

And then something unexpected happened. A guest, a paramedic from Vancouver, volunteered to cook dinner for everyone. He went into the kitchen with staff who weren’t chefs and asked, “What do we have?” He made a meal for 20-plus stranded guests.

A young Mexican couple put on music. An American man from Oregon sat alone at first, until the young Mexican husband walked over in broken English, asked where he was from, and invited him to sit with them. Soon, everyone was helping.

Cooking.
Doing dishes.
Laughing.
Sharing stories.

Breaking bread in the middle of uncertainty.

I said to my kids....this might be the best birthday, I've ever had.....they agreed with me. 

What crisis reveals

Crisis reveals the state of our nervous system. It reveals leadership.
It reveals character. It reveals whether we amplify fear, or create safety.

What I witnessed that night:

• A regulated nervous system in the hotel manager.

• Service leadership in action.

• A paramedic stepping forward without being asked.

• Strangers becoming community.

• Humans choosing connection over chaos.

We cannot always control the external environment. But we can train our internal one.

And that training matters most when the stakes are highest.

A leadership reflection

When your team looks at you in uncertainty:

• Do they see urgency or steadiness?

• Do they feel managed or cared for?

• Are you amplifying threat, or increasing safety?

Your nervous system sets the tone. Not your title.

I turned 62 in a locked-down hotel in Mexico during cartel violence.

And I have never felt more grateful for the power of calm, community, and conscious leadership.

Sometimes the best birthdays aren't the carefree and fun ones. They’re the ones that remind you who you are under pressure.