Am I Pigpen… but with Technology?

Lately, I’ve caught myself saying the same thing over and over again: “You know Pigpen, from the Peanuts cartoon? The one with the cloud of dust that follows him everywhere? That’s me – except it’s tech static instead of dirt.”

Every time I sit down to work, something seems to break. A form doesn’t load. A platform glitches. A cable suddenly stops working. And for a while, I turned it into a story I’d tell, kind of as a joke. But not really.

Because beneath the joke was a belief: that maybe I was the problem. That somehow, tech just doesn’t work for me the way it does for other people.

But recently, after hearing myself repeat that story one too many times, I had to pause. It hit me: this isn’t just a quirky narrative. It’s a trap. And worse – it’s kind of mean. To me.

That Pigpen story reinforces the very frustration I’m trying to get out of. When I’m in it, I feel fuzzy-headed, tense in my body, and cut off from the part of me that’s usually compassionate and calm.

Thankfully, I’ve been holding a steady meditation practice – 20 minutes each morning, plus short check-ins throughout the day. Nothing flashy, but it creates space. Space to breathe. Space to notice. And eventually, space to shift.

Here’s what I’m learning:

It’s not just about solving the problem in front of you.

It’s about how you show up in the process.

The version of me I want to bring to these moments? She moves slower. She’s grounded, clear, and calm. She’s not chasing a solution in a panic. She’s trusting herself to meet whatever’s happening with grace. And that version of me? She’s the one building Konenki.

Konenki was born from my own mess of midlife static, from misdiagnoses, burnout, confusion, and the overwhelming feeling of not having a map. And while yes, we’re building systems and structures to make it easier for women to find support and providers to grow their practices, it’s really about something deeper:

How we treat ourselves in the process.

How we speak to ourselves when we’re tired, unsure, or out of our depth.

How we hold compassion for our becoming.

So if you’re a woman in midlife trying to make sense of the changes in your body, your energy, your purpose… Or if you’re a provider doing your best to serve others while navigating your own static…  Here’s what I’ll say:

All of our beliefs are self-fulfilling prophecies. What would happen if you believed something kinder?