Katara McCarty is the founder and CEO of Exhale, an award-winning, inclusive well-being app and resource that centers the mental health and well-being of Black women. She also leads Exhale Cares, advancing mental health equity through advocacy, education, and research. Her honors include first place in the NBA Foundation All-Star Pitch and a Webby Award. She is an inaugural Highland Leader and now a coach to many leaders across the Highland.

In this conversation, Katara arrives slow and gentle, practicing a pace that does not shove her through the day. She names her lineage: daughter of Betty Waters, who opened her home to a foster baby in 1972, daughter of Mary Waters-Smith, daughter of Nellie Waters, daughter of community and collective care. She places a seed on the altar, a slower, more intentional pace of leadership that does not require depletion to prove impact. She reflects on what the Highland helped her remember about legacy, that it is not only what you leave behind but what you seed forward to flourish seven generations from now. She tells the truth about eighteen years as a pastor and nonprofit leader, holding space for everyone while few held space for her, and about the day in 2016 she landed on her bathroom floor, emptied, asking where to go from here, and the coach who told her to pour back into herself and to grieve. She offers the line that names the whole season: you can grow things, but you do not have to burn the soil. Gabrielle mirrors it back as wholeness, rest integrated with purpose rather than sacrificed to it, and names the difference between care as branding and care as a practice that actually holds us. Katara describes what Exhale really offers, not new care but remembered care, spaces that guide us home to ourselves. She names the vision she will not trade, I see us well, well resourced, well rested. She names what the systems do, deplete and extract, and frames rest and prioritization as refusal. And she closes with the mad lib that holds the arc in two lines: because of them, I can exhale, and because of me, they can exhale.

If Season Two of Meet Me at the Highland™ is an invitation to seed, then Katara McCarty tends the question of what the soil requires. Before the planting, the conditions. Before the harvest, the rest. Seed yourself first. Let this episode be a remembering that there is nothing wrong with us, that we are deserving of our own care, and that we can build a different way.

Connect with Katara
Website: exhale-app.com
Exhale Cares: exhalecares.com
Instagram: @kataramccarty
LinkedIn: linkedin.com/in/kataramccarty

Connect with Meet Me at the Highland™
Full episode and companion content: meetmeatthehighland.substack.com
The Legacy Studio: https://meetmeatthehighland.place/
Instagram: @meetmeatthehighland
YouTube: @MeetMeatTheHighland

• (00:00) - Intro
• (02:23) - Arriving Slow and Gentle
• (03:56) - Lineage Daughter Of
• (06:38) - Seeding Slower Leadership
• (09:35) - Legacy Seven Generations
• (13:33) - Depletion and Turning Point
• (16:33) - Bathroom Floor Breakthrough
• (21:55) - Grow Without Burning
• (27:25) - Relearning Rest from Grandma
• (30:51) - Rest Fuels Creativity
• (34:25) - Care as Practice Now
• (36:11) - Pandemic Spark for Exhale
• (39:31) - Building Exhale From Frustration
• (43:08) - Wellness Spaces And Harm
• (46:05) - Remembered Care And Mirroring
• (48:41) - What Is Yours To Carry
• (54:33) - Discernment And Saying No
• (01:01:42) - Protecting The Seven Generation Vision
• (01:03:16) - Breath As Daily Resistance
• (01:07:32) - Support The Movement
• (01:13:35) - Mad Libs And Gratitude
• (01:16:03) - Closing Celebration And Farewell

Brittany is the founder of Love & Power Works, host of UNDISTRACTED podcast, Chief Strategy Officer of the Children’s Defense Fund, and author of the forthcoming We Are Like Those Who Dream.

Full episode and bonus content: meetmeatthehighland.substack.com

More on Brittany: brittanypacknett.com, @MsPackyetti

• (00:00) - Episode 1. Brittany Packnett Cunningham: Love, Power, and the Mustard Seed
• (01:36) - Welcome to the Highland
• (03:23) - Daughter of Prayer
• (05:32) - Prayer Crew and Community
• (07:28) - Seeds Roots and Mustard Faith
• (14:17) - Showing Up in Fullness
• (17:32) - Taking Your Rightful Place
• (28:54) - Learning Self Love
• (38:17) - Truth Love as Practice
• (39:18) - Truth Over Survival
• (40:17) - Truth As Love
• (44:25) - Building The Truth Muscle
• (48:42) - Love And Power Together
• (49:23) - From Emojis To King
• (55:47) - Dreaming Feels Proximate
• (57:17) - Why This Book Exists
• (01:01:59) - Humility In The Writing
• (01:06:09) - Protecting The Next Generation
• (01:09:35) - Freedom Mad Lib Farewell

This letter is a soft moment of gratitude for the ways Dr. Parker teaches us to return to ourselves. It is a recognition of her legacy, her voice, and the love she practices through her work and her presence.

A gentle closing tribute to a woman whose life reminds us that love is something we inherit and something we choose every day.To listen to more reflections and conversations from Season One, subscribe to Meet Me at the Highland on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, and Substack.Share your own reflections and legacy stories with #MeetMeAtTheHighland.

⏱ Chapters

[00:00] Welcome and intention of the Highland[02:15] “I am the daughter of…” grounding in lineage[04:05] Early lessons and the love that shaped her[07:40] Growing up in Detroit and learning community[12:50] What the body remembers and how rest supports healing[17:22] Rest versus sleep and listening for the body’s signals[22:10] Restorative yoga and the nervous system[27:50] Awareness as a daily life practice[31:00] The breath as a doorway into belonging[35:38] Why dreams matter and how imagination guides healing[40:44] Guided breathing practice to return to center[45:18] Belonging, compassion, and seeing each other clearly[50:09] Legacy, lineage, and the stories we carry[56:20] Final reflections on love as a practice

🔗 Listen and Subscribe:

Apple Podcasts | Spotify | Substack

Use #MeetMeAtTheHighland to share your reflections.

Before you write, find a quiet moment. Place one hand over your heart, one hand over your belly.

Breathe in slowly for a count of four, hold for two, exhale for six. Whisper to yourself: “I am the bridge. I am the beginning.”

Now, reflect:

* What stories, teachings, or practices from those who came before you are alive in your work today?

* Which quiet, ordinary parts of you (the ones not listed on a résumé or celebrated on social media) are already shaping a collective future?

* How are you practicing softness and strategy together, as Chelsea models? Where does that show up in your leadership, your care, your creativity?

* If future generations could name one gift you are giving them now, what would it be?

Write your responses as if you’re telling a story to someone who will come after you. Let it flow. Don’t edit. Breathe again. Then underline one sentence that feels like a promise you’re making to yourself and to the future.

***

Dear Chelsea,

You are the bridge and the beginning. The memory and the movement. The echo of ancestral prayers and the drumbeat of futures still unfolding.

Your legacy reminds us that intergenerational leadership is not about passing the baton—it’s about building the road together, hand in hand, each generation holding a piece of the map. You taught us that legacy is not just what we leave behind—it’s what we live into, right now.

You’ve preserved the wisdom of your ancestors, not as history—but as instruction. You’ve rooted your advocacy in truth-telling and creativity, showing us that organizing is not just about resistance—it’s about vision. It’s about becoming.

And you, dear one, have become—not in spite of softness, but through it. In a world that rewards burnout and praises the hustle, you chose another way. You chose gentleness. You learned to be tender with yourself, and in doing so, gave the rest of us permission to do the same. You reminded us that preservation isn’t just about policy—it’s about the body. The spirit. The self.

You’ve led not from ego, but from ecosystem. From the deep knowing that we are stronger when we are connected. That the path to Black abundance is paved with community, not competition. With care, not control. With stories that speak truth and songs that hold us when words fall short.

You’ve reminded us that liberation work requires imagination. That systems don’t shift without new stories. That it is not enough to name the pain—we must also name the possibility.

Chelsea, your legacy is already alive in the organizing circles, the storytellers’ pens, the next generation rising in your footsteps—eyes open, hearts wide, spirits steady. You have made it clear that Black freedom is not a dream deferred—it’s a dream designed.

Because of you, we know how to lead and listen.Because of you, we know that softness and strategy can coexist.Because of you, we believe in a future where we are not only free—but full.

You have given us not just language—but a rhythm. A way to move through the world that honors where we’ve been and declares where we’re going. You’ve shown us that to organize with joy is not naive—it’s necessary. That power by the people, for the people is not a slogan—it’s a sacred responsibility. That Black abundance is not something to earn—it is something to remember.

Chelsea, your future is stitched with stories and strategy. With softness and strength. With communities standing ten-toes down in their power and possibility.

Thank you for becoming gentle with yourself, so that legacy could move through you, not in spite of you.

With clear eyes, full hearts, and hands ready to build, we step forward with you to dream in public with joy and power.

Until we meet at the Highland - sending love,

The Future Chelseas

⏱️ Chapters[00:00] Welcome + intention of the Highland[02:05] “Who are you the daughter of?” — grounding in lineage[03:36] Defining legacy and worthiness[07:49] Intention, inheritance, and living legacy now[09:30] Stories from her mother and why history keeps us grounded[13:02] Intergenerational leadership at the Highland[17:25] Choosing yourself; authorship over outside expectations[26:00] Storytelling, narrative, and honoring collective abundance[31:59] Visibility and creative acts (Pedestals project)[34:54] Resources we need: capital, collective power, creative organizing[37:37] Audacity and organization as practice[44:54] Carrying threads forward: creativity and stillness[47:05] A weekly practice—protected quiet time to dream[50:19] “Because of them… Because of me…” closing reflection

🔗 Listen & Subscribe: Apple Podcasts | Spotify | Substack

Use #MeetMeAtTheHighland to share your reflections.

This week on Episode 5 of Meet Me at the Highland™, Dr. Key reminds us that freedom is not theory—it is practice. It is the rooms we clear, the tables we extend, the doors we leave open behind us.

After you listen to this week’s episode, find a quiet place.

Close your eyes and breathe in for a count of four, out for six. Repeat until your body softens.

Ask yourself:

Whose brick made space for me to stand here?

What is one small act I can offer today that strengthens the village—sharing a resource, making an introduction, buying from a local founder, checking in on a neighbor?

If I am a living legacy, what is my contribution to the blueprint?

When you finish, write one sentence: “Because of them, I can… and because of me, we will…”

Let these words be your offering to the collective future.

Until we meet again at the Highland - sending love,

Gabrielle

****

Dear Dr. Key,

In this moment of tectonic shift—where the world feels like it’s holding its breath, waiting to exhale something new and necessary—your legacy whispers a steady truth: We’ve been here before. And we know the way.

You have long walked in the rhythm of that ancestral knowing. You’ve always been in conversation with the earth. You taught us that stillness is not stagnation, but strategy. That rest is a radical rite. That nature is not only our refuge, but our greatest teacher. You showed us how to sit by water and wait. How to listen to the wind and remember. How to move like trees—grounded, but reaching.

While so many raced toward extraction, you slowed us down to remember. You said, Pause. Listen. The land and ancestor will tell you what to do. The people will remind you who you are. And we did. We are. Because of you.

We honor you not as the founder of The Village Market, but as the visionary who dares to hold love at the center of systems. Who reminds us that thriving is not the reward for endurance—but our birthright. You’ve never just built a marketplace. You’ve built a movement: a tapestry of cooperative economics woven from the threads of our ancestors’ ingenuity and the bold dreams of those not yet born.

In a world conditioned to compete, you turned us toward collectivism. You wove a new economic possibility, not from theory, but from memory. A remembering that our liberation is not a solo act. That community is currency. That when we return to the village, we recover the power of being more than enough—together.

What your legacy teaches us is that radical change is not fueled by individualism, speed or spectacle, but by the village, stillness, intention and love. By the kind of quiet revolution that begins when a Black woman listens deeply—to the land, to her lineage, to herself. And isn’t that what love does? It reminds us we are already whole.

You are evidence that Black futures must be rooted in love. Not the fleeting kind, but the forever kind. The kind that does not flinch in the face of systemic violence, because it has seen revolution before. The kind that holds the mirror up gently, so we can see our own divinity reflected back.

Because of you, we understand that collectivism is not a strategy, but a sacred inheritance. That to gather around the fire of mutual care and shared resources is to conjure a tomorrow our foremothers dreamed while braiding our hair by candlelight.

We write this letter not to congratulate you—but to say thank you. For refusing urgency when the village, stillness, intention, and love were required. For choosing the long arc when shortcuts shimmered. For not building platforms, but for building sanctuaries.

In you, we see the blueprint of a future that feels like home.

Until we meet at the Highland - sending love,

The Future Dr. Keys

From her beginnings as an educator in Mississippi classrooms to her evolution into an ecosystem builder in Atlanta, Dr. Key shares the lessons that guided her shift from resisting growth to embracing her destiny as a village maker. She reflects on the love that fuels her legacy, her insistence that no one is self-made, and the collective power of ancestral practices of cooperative economics.

Dr. Key also opens up about learning to slow down, the spiritual guides who taught her stillness, and the intentionality required to create spaces of healing and joy. At the heart of her story is a call to remember: our freedom is bound to one another, and our legacies are written in community.

A conversation on dreaming boldly, building collectively, and choosing love as both blueprint and resistance.

This week on Episode 4 of Meet Me at the Highland™, Octavia teaches us that rest is not the end of the work—it is the work. That stillness is not absence, but presence. That slowing down is not giving up—it is making space for what is sacred to arrive.

Take a breath here.

Let it fill you.

Let it soften what has been hardened by urgency.

Consider this: where in your days do you hear the quiet invitation to stop—but keep going anyway? What might happen if, instead, you paused?

Octavia reminds us that when we lay down the burdens that were never ours to carry, we make room for what is truly ours— joy, connection, and the deep knowing that we are already enough.

As you listen to this episode, take time to pause in between moments that raise your awareness, your curiosity, your wonderings. Spend some time journaling after the episode or connecting with a friend on these offerings:

* What is one thing I can lay down today that does not belong to me?

* How does my body feel when I give myself permission to rest without guilt?

* What part of my legacy am I embodying when I choose stillness over speed?

Remember: you are not falling behind when you pause—you are arriving.

Until we meet again at the Highland - sending love,

Gabrielle

****

Dear Octavia,

There is a hush that enters the room when your name is spoken. Not silence, but presence. A deep exhale. A remembering.

You have taught us that rest is not a reward, but a sacred right. That stillness is not what happens when the work is done—but the work itself. That coming home to ourselves is not an escape from the world, but the first act of transforming it.

In a world that glorifies urgency, you offered a slower way. A softer way. A sacred way. You reminded us that rest is not retreat—it is ritual. It is repair. It is remembrance.

Because of you, we remember those time tested words: to be still is to know. To be still is to hear. To be still is to return to the truth that has been quietly waiting for us all along.

You did not simply speak of rest—you embodied it. You created space for us to lay down our burdens, and in doing so, you helped us lay down what was never ours to carry in the first place. You ushered us back to our breath. Back to our bones. Back to the community of care that has always been our birthright. Back to the reminder that liberation is not a destination, but a return. A re-membering.

You taught us to be soft and sovereign at once. That slowing down is not giving up—it’s getting free. That resting is not laziness—it’s listening.

You reminded us that when we rest, we are not missing out—we are tuning in. To our ancestors. To the land. To the quiet call of what is next.

You helped us reclaim time not as something to manage, but something to honor. You helped us remember that we are not machines—we are miracles.

And through your legacy, we have learned to gather differently. To sit in circle. To check on each other’s hearts. To create spaces where healing is not an afterthought, but the foundation.

Because of you, we have come home to ourselves—and found each other there.

Octavia, your future is a resting ground and a rising tide. You have shown us that the most radical thing we can do in a world that demands our constant doing—is to be.

And so, in this moment of awakening, we pause. We breathe. We bow.

Not in exhaustion, but in reverence.

Not in retreat, but in return.

Thank you for being a portal to the past, present, and future. Thank you for teaching us how to rest and rise.

Until we meet at the Highland - sending love,

The Future Octavias

What you’ll learn in this episode:

How rest can serve as self-leadership and a source of clarity.

Why distinguishing rest vs sleep is vital for leaders and creatives.

Practical tools like time audits, pauses, and everyday legacy practices.

How rest protects imagination and fuels sustainable leadership.

Use #MeetMeAtTheHighland to share how you are practicing rest as leadership and creativity in your own life.

About Octavia Raheem:Octavia is an author, yoga teacher, and rest coach whose work has been featured in The New York Times, Yoga Journal, and Well + Good. She is the author of Pause, Rest, Be and Gather.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit meetmeatthehighland.substack.com

In this episode, Monica Simpson — artist, activist, and leader in the reproductive justice movement — joins Gabrielle for a moving reflection on what it means to center our health and healing in our lives, leadership, and legacies.

Monica shares her journey of laying down her armor and reimagining worthiness as the foundation of freedom. She reflects on the power of community care, the necessity of a “healing ethic” for Black women leaders, and how creativity sustains her and her vision.

This is an episode about creating space for softness, imagining new possibilities, and remembering that we are worthy of the world we desire.

This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss it with other subscribers or get access to bonus content, visit meetmeatthehighland.substack.com.

In this episode, civil rights organizer and Black Voters Matter co-founder LaTosha Brown joins Gabrielle for a powerful conversation about beginning again. From her roots in Alabama's Black Belt to her early lessons in power and justice, LaTosha shares how she learned to lead with love even in the face of challenge. She opens up about transforming her relationship with rest from exhaustion as a badge of honor to embracing it as revolutionary practice, and reflects on her three-dimensional view of legacy—individual, collective, and universal. LaTosha also discusses taking up space boldly during her political campaign, choosing community care over confrontation in organizing work, and her vision for moving from citizenship to nation-building. A moving exploration of grief, joy, imagination, and what it means to be founders of the world we deserve.

• (00:00) - Welcome to the Highland (Narration by Dr. Parker and Gabrielle)
• (03:25) - Rooted in Rich Soil
• (07:04) - Early Lessons in Power
• (22:43) - Leading with Love
• (43:00) - Butterfly song, sacred moans, and finding joy again
• (45:00) - Taking up Space
• (48:00) - Campaigning in pink: Showing up fully as yourself
• (56:00) - “I am a founder of a nation yet unborn.”

Season one—The Breathing Season—invites you to slow down, reconnect, and imagine again.

Join us for powerful conversations with leaders like LaTosha Brown, Monica Simpson, and Erika Alexander as we explore what it means to lead, rest, heal, and build legacy in uncertain times.

This is a space where our stories are sacred. Where imagination is strategy. And where rest is not a reward—it’s a requirement.

New episodes drop monthly beginning June 18th.

Follow Meet Me at the Highland on Apple Podcasts—and join us on the journey.