Stay Hopeful, My Friends

Life’s little moments

Give us hope when all else seems

Fraught with fear, despair

NAVIGATING COVID

Gratitude for my

Shelter, food, health, it’s all here

Hope in quarantine

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We leave a short note

To say thanks for your service

Hope from frontliners

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Hilarious prints

Germs contained, and coffee breath

Hope from wearing masks

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Universal Yums

Snacks to learn of great countries

Hope without travel

MY CIRCLE

She asks with concern

How are you really doing

Hope from a girl friend

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We have a spa night

Just like old times as a kid

Hope with my Madre

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We send pics, music

Share our creative outlets

Hope from my cousin

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He embraces my

Wild ambition, big dreams

Hope with my husband

WORK

We laugh at meetings

Instead of arguing, mad

Hope from contractors

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They give water to

The homeless on the corner

Hope from laborers

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We wave at workers

No matter background, job type

Hope with a smile

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We discuss kindness

While watching traffic fly by

Hope from a flagger

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He brings me coffee

When we have a busy day

Hope from a colleague

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GRATITUDE

Warm hands, giant hugs

I’ll have these again one day

Hope is before me

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Lifelong memories

Of full concerts, planes, gyms, church

Hope is behind me

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Laughter over Zoom

Strong internet, still have wine

Hope is beside me

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Sun in December

Bluebird skies, warmed skin, breezes

Hope is around me

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He promises us

He will overcome the world

Hope is within me

Life’s little moments

Make a difference each day

Stay hopeful, my friends

This message of hope is brought to you by my women’s writing group, Illuminate Writing. You can find more of our work on Instagram @illuminatewriting and @thekindredvoice.

Please check out more messages of hope from these amazing writers below!

hope in the time of 2020. by Eunice Brownlee
Shifting Sands of Hope by Mia Sutton
In It Together by Laci Olivia
Who is your Only Hope? by Amy Rich
The 2020 Storm by Adeola Sheehy
Hope Over Survival by Sarah Hartley
Optimist on Purpose by Megan Dellecese
A Story About a Dog by Jenn Norrell
Both Fragile and Enduring by Danni Brigante

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An Invitation To… Mittenwald, Germany

It’s December and cold in the U.S. right now. As I attempt to get in the holiday spirit, I’m reminiscing about a quaint, Christmas-y place in southern Germany: Mittenwald. This tiny town sits at the base of the Alps on the border between Austria and Germany. It’s one of those hidden, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it places near the end of the famous Romantic Road.

Something I learned…

Some of the artwork on the unique, hand-painted buildings is about 250 years old

Immediately on arrival to Mittenwald, I was confronted with beautiful, life-sized, caricature paintings on almost every building. To say this added to Mittenwald’s charm is an understatement. Then I quickly realized I’d have just a few hours to wander and get lost in stories the buildings wanted to tell. In my haste, I didn’t take great pictures of individual painted scenes, because my fleeting obsession demanded that I get ALL the buildings in ONE perfect photo (hello, idealism). While this quest didn’t pan out, I distinctly remember being captivated by how creative artists really are. I wanted to go back in time and meet the local painters that said, hmm, these buildings look plain… how about we liven them up with some fairytale scenes?

Something I ate…

Good ol’ homemade sandwiches in a gorgeous park

When we visited Mittenwald a few years back, it was a quick pit stop for me and some friends on the way to Munich for Oktoberfest. Since we were particularly weary from our travels that day, rather than post up in a restaurant, we hit the local grocery store and bought supplies for an impromptu lunch in the park. Six of us split a loaf of bread, cured meats, sharp white cheese, and some chips. We also found the most adorable local park where my (very) amateur photography quest turned from the buildings to the flowers. I would gawk and spin around for a few minutes upon each new find, trying to capture each bud from the perfect angle. Luckily my friends are quite gracious with me in these endeavors and waited patiently in the empty park as we wrapped up our sandwiches. Seriously though, the colorful displays added some liveliness to an otherwise overcast, dreary day.

Something I felt…

Sleepy… a good, relaxing kind of sleepy

Of all the German towns we visited, Mittenwald took me closest to imagining how my ancestors would have enjoyed a quiet, sleepy life. Throughout our trip, a couple of us with our short, stocky frames and round faces were sometimes mistaken for German, not American. Sprechen Sie Deutsch? was asked of us at least once a day, but it didn’t bother us a bit. While none of us spoke German, it felt nice to have the fleeting appearance of belonging in a foreign land. My husband and I both have German ancestors–the “great-great” kind that we never met–which is quite evident from many, er, endearing traits we have. Such as… our stubbornness and orderly mannerisms when it comes to quirky things, like how to load our dishwasher or how to walk our dog.

So maybe the memory of this trip came up for me because it’s 2020, and Christmas will be much quieter this year. We never travel out of state for the holidays since our folks live in town, though I greatly missed traveling on an airplane this year (we’d try to vacation to at least one new place annually, pre-COVID). And yet, I’m not down about having my first sleepy Christmas. We may get to putting up a tree and decorating the house, or we may not. We may get around to sending Christmas cards, or we may not. In the mean time, Mittenwald has me remembering it’s OK to be small, quiet, and slow. A big mountain of activity still beckons to be explored ahead, as soon as our new normal can safely emerge from the clouds.

There’s so much more to tell, but I’ll leave that to you to discover.

What would give you a full mind, belly, and heart in the next city you explore? Follow more of my “invitations to” adventure at the top right of the page: Home > Travel+Bug.

Your Words are Worthy

Words upon words upon words. From grade school on, women are the classic note takers. Scribbles on sticky notes. Endless to-do lists. College notebooks full of formulas, theories, and literal word-for-word jargon from professors, in hopes it can be deciphered later. Love notes to kids or spouses in lunchboxes. We are the quintessential journal keepers, no matter if it’s once a day or once a year.

Why do we take note of so much? For one, it engages us. It activates our busy minds that run nonstop, even in our sleep. It plants us in the moment and grounds us when nothing else will. The act of writing promises hope that we won’t forget what we feel we need to remember.

Anytime I hear from a fellow woman writer that she doesn’t feel the urge to write, my heart cracks a little. This may be temporary based on the busy day/week/month ensuing, where she’s likely busy taking care of everyone else around her. My suspicion is that deep down, she silently feels her words aren’t worthy. And this makes the crack in my heart even wider, because I am so inspired by the words of other women. It is the very thing that has emboldened and empowered me on my own journey. I can’t stop reading others’ thoughts of desperation and moments of hope that this fragile, historic year has brought.

This is a pep talk I give myself that you can borrow in whole or in part anytime you need: Do not ever let someone poison you, with either a glance or a litany, on whether or not you’re worthy to create. You are the only one that gets to decide that. Let failure be a teacher and a gift once the pain subsides. When you’re ready, have the guts to face your weak areas instead of avoiding them. The lessons of growth when you go through the fire are always, always worth it. You have more grit than you give yourself credit for, so start digging in to get you where you want to go.

Whether you write 50 or 50,000 words, every syllable matters. Let those words of yours, faintly simmering below, start to bubble up and out. It counts if it’s privately in a journal or publicly released to the world. If you needed this reminder, I hope it’s coming to you at the right time.

Today, tomorrow, next month, or next year–there is no deadline on the worthiness of your words.

This post was taken from a bit of the first draft of my memoir as a woman engineer. I started this project on a whim when I learned of NaNoWriMo two weeks before it launched on November 1, 2020. I got to 40,000 words, and I have no idea if I will ever finish and publish it. What propelled me to write was this: “Will there ever be another time in my life where I can dedicate a whole month to writing?” And I didn’t want to wait to find out.

All I know right now is that I have stories of mine to tell. Writing is the therapy I need right now to re-imagine, process, and let go.

PS, the Unpublished Podcast by Amie McNee has been one of many inspirations to my writing journey this year. I encourage you to check it out if you need a boost of encouragement, wherever you are in your creative writing journey right now. As Amie often says, only you can write what you can write, no one else can.

Simple Traditions, Solid Ground

Thanksgiving traditions remind me, like a recurring dream that suddenly reappears

Through patience in prepping and roasting the turkey

Through cheerful pops of cranberries bursting

Through softening of vegetables in the skillet

Through warmth of a freshly baked pumpkin pie

Through those peaceful seconds just after we say grace

That simple traditions ground me when I feel my grip on life slipping

Helping release my sadness at the losses and turmoil that this year brought

Their familiarity keeps me up, gives me hope, that better days are ahead

Final Verdict: I Love My Products

Oh, beauty products. How we love to loathe you. Or is it loathe to love you? I’ve had my fair share of these moments, vacillating between appreciating and despising the beauty industry and what I perceive it stands for.

But after some “beauty”-ful soul searching on where I stand with it all, I’ve decided: I love having the choice to buy and experiment with so many different hair, skin, and makeup products. As I often do, allow me to share my whys…

My products do just “feel good”—when I keep it in balance. The scents, the colors, the silkiness when applied. The sheer level of creativity one can appreciate from entrepreneurs who risk it all to create products they believe in wholeheartedly. But I’m responsible for that balance. I’ve fallen for plenty of labels promising that my life will in fact be changed by a certain blend of coconut oil and shea butter. I’ve thrown out expired products, which feels regrettably like a jangle of coins hitting the trash can, never to be seen again. But I’ve also bonded with my girlfriends over just the right dry shampoo, or reminisced over a favorite vacation when I brought back a lotion or soap to help me remember.

Wandering the beauty aisles in Target is one of my favorite forms of self-care. In the pandemic, it gets me out and walking around, especially on these colder fall days. The colorful, brightly lit aisles lift me up while I browse and make new discoveries. The Soap & Glory labels tell me it can still be summer, even if only in my mind. And I can splurge or go cheap, whether it’s a $2 face mask or a $20 scrub.

Since March, I’ve painted my nails a different color every two weeks. It started out as a simple routine to keep me entertained in quarantine, but I came to enjoy the femininity of it. It keeps me from biting my nails (and keeps those hands clean) and forces me to sit still for a few minutes. I invested $60 in the Dazzle Dry system that is hands-down the best—no major chips for over a week. With about 15 manicures down by now, and only halfway through my system, the price per use continues to drop as I keep enjoying my DIY mani time (bonus!).

Lastly, products help me look older. Call it “blessed by good genes”, but naturally looking 10 years younger doesn’t always have its benefits. Especially since I work with mostly men who can, subconsciously or not, find other reasons not to take me seriously. A little eyeliner, mascara, and multi-tasking tinted moisturizer go a long way to help me look as confident as I feel, when I know I know what I’m talking about at work.

Sometimes I use two products, sometimes ten. A Tahitian vanilla body scrub or lavender clay mask on the weekend can make a long shower feel like a sweet escape. I will never get through my Birchbox samples, even though I quit a year ago. Hair smoothing oil is a game changer that gives me an extra day or two between washes. I love practicing this flexibility to decide what works for me and when.

We each have our own ways of feeling beautiful. With the sh*t show of a year it’s been, and no signs of that slowing down, my products give me space to stop and enjoy. I hope you are finding little ways to feel beautiful. Each of these moments is significant and matters—letting beauty infiltrate from the outside, reminding us to keep believing in our beauty on the inside.

Two Pens, Two Purposes: An Engineer Writes Fiction

This is a storied timeline of two pens, two purposes. One pen writes reports and calculations on a construction site. The other writes articles and pitches as a freelancer. One story is fiction; one is fictionalized but mostly true. Both individuals are working (or attempting to) in the pandemic. Apparently, both hate the morning alarm but love long walks and Spotify.

The Engineer.

5:30am – That damn alarm. 1 snooze and I’ll get up. The sun peeking through our window tells me I won’t need my jacket today (phew).

6:30am – Just finished my morning quiet time. Meditation on my Calm app and some prayer/silence. Total bliss—wish I consistently did this.

7:30am – Smoothies and coffee are made, and I’m headed out the door. Wait: forgot my lunch, and takeout options are still slim. Say goodbye to the fam for the second time, and off I go.

8:30am – The #coronatraffic is definitely picking up—need to start leaving earlier. I pull up to the jobsite and finish my morning check-in with the superintendent.

9:30am – I’m in the office trailer–a bland shade of beige. It’s stayed very clean since I constantly imagine COVID germs lurking about. I fire up the generator so I can get internet and power and start catching up on emails.

10:30am – Concrete pour for an inlet base, where I spot check measurements on the rebar and forms. Weirdly, fresh concrete is one of my favorite smells. It signifies something new is being built that will last a long time. 

11:30am – Lunch by myself in the trailer. It’s quieter now that my inspector was reassigned to another project last month, due to budget issues. If I had a nickel for every time I thought, thanks COVID…

12:30pm – Daily check-in call with my client. We discuss the schedule slipping *sigh*. Our Indian summer weather is holding out for now, so we can finish paving and stand up some signal poles this month before the snow hits.

1:30pm – I add a couple things to my Lessons Learned report. I’ve recently made this a habit: writing down things our team could improve, or wish we’d known, before the next job starts.

2:30pm – Out for another site walk and think: Well, this is new. About 10 Xfinity trucks are here, with manhole lids popped off everywhere. I talk to their supervisor. Turns out, even after the 2 months my team spent notifying companies of a duct bank we needed to relocate for our new inlet, they didn’t get the memo. Sorry to whoever was cut off from the world for 4 days – is it even possible to go that long without TV or internet right now??

3:30pm – Writing my Daily Diary, where I’m always thinking: be objective, thorough, concise. Sometimes I feel more like a lawyer than an engineer when I write these.

4:30pm – Midway through my commute home with my favorite passenger, Spotify. Today we’re listening to The Confessional and Unlocking Us at 1.5X speed. I set the cruise control and enjoy.

5:30pm – Dog walk with my boys. We walk up the hill to take in a view that never gets old: watching a soft coral sunset turn to indigo over the hazy foothills.

6:30pm – Finally getting this at-home workout routine down. Ingredients: 30 minutes, a 20 lb kettlebell, “Mood Booster” on Spotify, and my $10 Amazon poster with umpteen exercises to choose from.

7:30pm – Takeout Thursday! Tonight, we go local and get a Matador pizza with salads. Jalapenos, cream cheese, chorizo, red sauce—yep, gang’s all here.

8:30pm – Quick journal entry. I used to be a morning journaler, but I’ve grown to like the end-of-day reflections. Even if they’re scattered, tired, flat. More realistic and strangely calming.

9:30pm – Spent. I’m catching up on Nashville and forgot how much I love the music. Even though I gave up country music years ago. I snooze on the couch for 20 minutes before my husband coaxes me to bed (my big bad habit is here to stay).

The Writer.

7:30am – OK, OK, I’m up. 5 snoozes later meant 45 minutes in iPhone land. Oops. Why hasn’t Apple figured out a way to give us custom snooze options yet?

8:30am – It’s a hair wash day. Ugh. One nice thing about the pandemic: I’m down to once a week. Grab a souvenir coffee mug and think, where should I travel to today? Hawaii or… Hawaii? I listen to the Unpublished podcast at 1.5X speed.

9:30am – That blank cursor feeling is legit. But it’s because I have so.many.stories brewing at once. Gonna take some effort to get them out, both connected and flowing.

10:30am – I looove my home office. My velvet Cleopatra chair sits in the corner, inviting me in for a read or a write when that desk gets old. But, I miss traveling. 

11:30am – Squirrel! Started looking for photos for an article, then scrolled for a half hour before I caught myself. Now I really miss traveling. And the theatre. And squeezing my face into group pics.

12:30pm – Hunger calls: tacos for lunch. Mmm. Have I ever met anyone that doesn’t love tacos? Have I discovered the one thing all Americans can agree on, besides Dolly Parton?

1:30pm – Ever spend an hour on thesaurus.com for one word? Yep. I just did. #enneagram1blues

2:30pm – I attend a Writer’s Digest OnDemand Webinar called, “8 Things First-Time Novelists Need to Avoid”. Great tips, if I ever get to this phase of my writing career. Just completely in the dark on a concept or theme right now *sigh*.

3:30pm – The fairy dust fueling today’s inspiration has worn off. My partner has been on a conference call, on speaker phone, for the last two hours in the living room. Time for a walk….

4:30pm – My last hour to meet client deadlines and rally my self-imposed hustle. Refueling with Diet Coke. C’mon, words.

5:30pm – One more hour… #ThisGirlIsOnFire… I click Submit, Send, and Save Draft on three pieces I fought hard for today. 

6:30pm – Time for our nightly beach walk. So glad we indulged our pipe dream and moved to the coast last year. Footprints in the sand never get old. Ever. 

7:30pm – Grocery store run. Feels like I’m in some bent universe when I leave my 2D imagination and enter 3D life with real trees and cars. Did I really just hunker down for two days pouring myself out on paper, or did I dream it?

8:30pm – We rally and whip up some Chicken Marsala and mashed potatoes for dinner. Add a little heavy cream to the sauce and a LOT of butter to the potatoes. A cold glass of Pinot Grigio gives us a sweet finishing touch to the meal.

9:30pm – Just cracked open my new journal for a quick brain dump. It starts with the quote: “Okay fine, I’m grateful!” Appropriate. I spend a few minutes writing and a lot of time doodling quotes or scriptures on my mind.

10:30pm – Kindle calls tonight instead of Netflix. I should not read “Welcome to the United States of Anxiety” before bed. But it’s teaching me all about the evolution of avocado toast, and I’m here for the entertainment.

2:30am – I slowly wake, and my mind is abuzz. Think I’ll work on that haiku series I dreamt of this week. Who knows if it’s publishable, but it demands to get out now. Sleep, I’ll see you when I see you.

Photo location: Seattle, WA. Ocean on the left, mountains on the right, symbolically bridging my two worlds.

Read more about an Examination of Life this month from the amazing women at Illuminate, a product of The Kindred Voice:

A Day in My Life by Laci Olivia

An Ideal vs Actual Day in the Life by Ashleigh Bowling

What Makes a Life? by Amy Rich

A Real (and Imagined) Examination of Life by Sarah Hartley

The Things We Carry by Jenn Norrell

An Examination of Life by Danni Brigante

life itself. by Eunice Brownlee

An Invitation To… Kauai, Hawaii

The island of Kauai is one of my absolute favorite places to be in the world. My husband and I first went for our honeymoon, and I’ve been twice more since… once even out of the blue for WORK! We’ve often thought of moving there “someday”, whenever we get tired of the grind and a much slower pace calls. I also have a theory that the first island you visit in the Hawaiian Islands becomes your favorite, because the scenery is breathtaking and the overall feel is calming. And then you remember, I’m still in the United States.

I cannot say enough good things about Kauai. It’s called the “Garden Isle” for a reason, and describing it as “lush” is an understatement. Succulent greenery, glittery blue, surf-ready waves, luscious flowers… join me as I reminisce.

Something I learned…

There are wild roosters ALL over the island due to Hurricane Iniki in 1992

So, Kauai is a colorful island with colorful… roosters? Yep, sure is. The story goes, that when Hurricane Iniki hit, the force of water was so strong that it toppled over chicken coops. This let maybe hundreds of chickens and roosters loose, and now, some reports estimate there are thousands of feral chickens on Kauai. They’re literally everywhere, foraging at beaches, grocery store parking lots, or the side of the road. But like any wild animal, they don’t bother you if you don’t bother them. I love that this unique, quirky story belongs to Kauai.

Something I ate…

Red sea salt, coconut peanut butter, purple potatoes, and lots more

Kauai is very remote, as told from a factoid on a bag of chocolate-covered macadamia nuts: Hawaii is the most isolated inhabited land mass in the world. Kauai is 2,390 miles from California, 3,850 miles from Japan, and 4,900 miles from China. (KauaiFunFacts.com)

So, one may wonder about the food (because, I’m always thinking about food). Is it mostly imported? What’s “local” besides coconuts, fresh fish, and chocolate-covered macadamia nuts? Well, here’s a few delicacies I ADORED and took home when I could:

  1. Hawaiian Red Alaea Sea Salt – an accidental creation when ocean met dirt.
  2. Coconut Peanut Butter by North Shore Goodies.
  3. Purple sweet potatoes – slightly sweeter and tangier than your standard orange ones.
  4. Fresh ahi tuna… not just a little morsel on sushi. Whole slabs of it.
  5. Moonfish (Opah) – common catch of the day: white, flaky, and great on tacos.
  6. Kauai Coffee – I toured the farm and still order the Vanilla Macadamia Nut blend online regularly. No creamer needed!
  7. Lay’s Tangy Carolina BBQ chips – devastated these aren’t sold on the mainland.
  8. Kauai Mud Pie, available only at The Olympic Cafe. It is a one-of-a-kind treat consisting of coffee ice cream, chocolate ice cream, macadamia nuts, chocolate syrup, and whipped cream… need at least 4 peeps to finish it!

Something I felt…

What a more peaceful life looks like: lazy days, tranquil setting, and less “stuff”.

On one particular dreamy day in Kauai, sipping cocktails on a patio, hubs and I imagined what it would be like to move here. Could we break into the real estate market and live off rentals? Would one of us find an engineering job? Could I make it as an entrepreneur (pipe dream) and make a living on creativity? The entrepreneur dream was inspired by these amazing candles at Island Soap & Candle Works, which eliminates at least one potential business line for me. No way I could compete; these candles are life-changing!

We were particularly drawn to this dream because in a weird way, it would force us into simplicity. No doubt, Kauai’s landscape lends to the tranquility it exudes. But more than that, it takes less than 3 hours to drive around the whole island. Anything else is a boat ride or plane ride away. Wherever we went, there was no rush. Even when the main highway, Kuhio, gets jammed at all hours of the day, there’s little honking. There’s no speeding past each other, because you can’t. You’re either taking the two-lane highway to the “wetter” side up north (Hanalei, Princeville) or the “drier” side down south (Koloa, Waimea). So all that’s left to do, is enjoy the ride as you glance over, notice the ocean about 20 feet away, and try not to drive into it as it sneakily lures you in.

Wrap Up: Kauai is everything it’s amped up to be

Quick reality check—the two downsides about Kauai from my view are: 1) the rainy season is VERY RAINY, and 2) how long it takes to get there… from anywhere in the world.

But all things considered, it’s totally worth the trip. The locals are some of the friendliest, sweetest people you’ll meet. It’s easy to get lost in their native ways, like how they preserve the Hawaiian language, protect the nearby island of Niihau, and much more to stay true to their heritage. There’s a new beach to explore along the Kuhio Highway every 5 minutes. The island hasn’t been fully commercialized and won’t be for a long time, considering that per code, no building can be taller than a palm tree.

The beauty here, in this faraway land, is endless.

Thank you for letting me wax poetic about my all-time favorite travel spot. There’s so much more to tell, but I’ll leave that to you to discover.

What would give you a full mind, belly, and heart in the next city you explore? Follow more of my “invitations to” adventure at the top right of the page: Home > Travel+Bug.

Time, Mystical Time… Healin’ Me Fine

Cue one of my favorite songs on Taylor Swift’s Folklore album, “invisible string”…

These days, I’ve grown more aware of how obsessed I am with time. I’ve known for a while that me and FOMO are good friends. Still, I find myself subconsciously trying to strike a balance among learning from my past, living in the moment, and pondering the future. It’s precarious. It used to feel life-giving, where I’d tenuously balance on the edge of control and freedom. Right now, it feels pretty lifeless to be so consumed by time, when it draws out and stretches out for miles that used to feel like feet due to the pandemic.

This year, I often joke that it’s just another day that ends in Y (and thank one of my clients for giving me such a fitting phrase). If I weren’t chronicling my inner thoughts and daily activities so well with a solid journaling habit and this blog, time may feel even blurrier than it already does.

Anyhoo. Remember when email forwards were a thing (a fun, eventually annoying thing), and someone listed all the ways that fractions of time can change our course and give our entire lives new meaning? Like the difference of 0.01 seconds for Olympic competitors who earn a silver medal. I came up with my own list as sort of a therapeutic process, since time has virtually no meaning for me right now.

1 second: The time it took for my dad’s car and an oncoming car to collide, sending him to the hospital where he passed away two days later when I was 16.

1 minute: The time it took to get dunked underwater and reemerge in a roomful of people, where I shared that Jesus was my source of comfort, strength, and hope. Life has been brighter, richer, and more purposeful for me ever since.

1 hour: The time of a single car ride with my favorite mentor who was kind enough to unexpectedly show me how, when I thought I was hiding what I was feeling, I was actually being very obvious about it. This completely changed my interactions with friends, family, and colleagues for me from that point on.

1 day: Time spent strolling the Freedom Trail in Boston with my then-friend from college, having lunch at the Union Oyster House, and visiting Paul Revere’s house. A few years later, I call this smart, funny, generous man my husband.

1 month: The time I needed to start a consistent journaling habit, which has now bloomed into joining a women’s writing group, starting a blog, and seriously exploring and sharing my creative side.

1 year: The length of time I spent getting my Master’s degree in Civil Engineering, only to find myself with little to no job prospects when the markets tanked and the Great Recession started.

Sigh. OK, time has meaning. I needed that reminder. And yet, I wonder. When will I get to plan a get together larger than 8 people again – in person, inside, without masks? When will we go on our next international getaway, something we enjoy doing with friends to immerse ourselves in and learn from a totally different way of life? What is my next big thing going to be IRL, that’s a far cry from the online worlds of Instagram, Medium, and Google?

These are the questions I ask myself, as I enjoy lazy Saturdays sleeping in, reading, binge watching Nashville, writing, cooking fancy meals with my husband, and walking my dog to my heart’s content. All the things I ever wanted to do but never for this long.

Photo location: Fussen, Germany