February 1, 2017

This was the sunrise view from my living room window in October. It’s reflected beautifully in the lake and I can just see a peak of color on the horizon. Every morning upon waking I walk into this room to see what the sky will share with me. It’s never been the same twice, even on these frozen, Minnesota winter days. It’s ever changing and continuously surprising.

So too is life. The way we view the world is constantly in flux. We learn something new that surprises us and our view changes. We stumble upon a new conversation that changes our view. We remember an event that occurred and suddenly the lesson we should have learned long ago is clearer and our view changes.

I have been fortunate in my life to have people enter when I need their views to impact mine. Today I was on a call with DeAnna Murp...

October 29, 2016

Have you ever been asked this question?  It seems so simple when first introduced yet it gets more difficult the longer one thinks.  Since I am only able to answer it one time it is even harder.  There are so many things I’m proud of: my father for working hard with only an 8th grade education, my mother who raised five kids while my father worked on the road, my children for becoming independent, smart people.  But how does one answer this question when give only one chance?

Perhaps I’m most proud that my husband and I helped each other go to college and launch independent careers on our own after getting married at age 19.  What were we thinking?

Am I proud of the way my daughter put her career on hold, realizing it is more important to be an at-home mother of three children under t...

October 29, 2016

I've been a serial entrepreneur since I was nine years old.  I wanted a new bike.  My parents didn't believe in handing out money unless we earned it.  So my father armed me with a bucket of red paint, a small paint brush and a painter's apron.  

I lived in a suburb of St. Paul, Minnesota in the late 1950's.  Our daily mail (including Sunday) was delivered by the same mailman for years.  Yes, they were all men in those days.  He drove up to each mailbox in his white truck with red and blue logos on it and placed our mail in the box.  If we wanted to send something out we placed it in the box before his arrival and raised the red metal flag on the side of the box.  That was a signal for the mailman to stop even if he didn't have a delivery on that day.

It was import...

Please reload

Pamela Enz : Living the dream as a  
Trainer, Facilitator, and Coach

Join me as I stay relevant, age gracefully, love family, and invent a way to host others toward the same goal.

Watch for Occasional
 stories

© 2023 by Walkaway. Proudly created with Wix.com

  • Instagram Social Icon
  • LinkedIn Social Icon
  • Facebook Black Round