I would like to offer a different perspective - or maybe just a different story - about my relationship with a box of chocolates, and the wisdom I have gained along the way.

What would you do if you weren’t afraid?

What if we could turn back the clock, just a couple of days, and change the outcome. Or maybe retreat even further.

What did we miss? What could we have done differently? 

Gone is that little girl who sat staring down a vegetable at the dinner table. Gone are those stewed sour balls that made me want to gag. I would like to think that we have both matured, changed, and become better versions of our former selves.

What happened to the days when we could disagree but still sit down and share a meal together? When did it become a win at all costs? When did we stop listening to one another?

I would like to think I am discreet, stealth, and as imperceptible as the Instagram algorithm…but I am watching you. And for that I am grateful, because I have learned - and continue to learn - so much.

Flying makes me nervous, changing time zones is exhausting, the logistics of travel are frustrating, and packing and unpacking - and then packing and unpacking, and then packing and unpacking again - my carry-on with a week’s worth of clothes…is annoying.

Is it all worth it?

While we wait for the picture-worthy moment when our son or daughter crosses the stage to accept a diploma, let me flip things around and share with you three lessons I have learned from our soon-to-be graduate. Our children are great teachers.

I have a secret - I want a tattoo.

While our kids consider the dogs the varsity team and the cats junior varsity, the JV team adds a different kind of value to our home, and I am amazed at how much they teach me by how they live life on their own terms.

I grab my cell phone from its charger and head towards the bathroom, a room that I frequented over the past eight hours. My lower back reminds me that it is tight as I gaze into the mirror – “Who is this person, and what did you do with that bright-eyed, bushy-tailed blonde young thing I used to know?”

Depends on the context. On December 5th, the then-president of Harvard, Claudine Gay, said these four words in a congressional hearing in response to a question about genocide. And although Gay later apologized for her answer, declaring, “Words matter,” the phrase has continued to rattle around in my brain.

I struggle to get all of it “right” (or at least my version of right). The decorations, the thank yous, the gifts, the social engagements, the outfits. I want the busy to be flawless and the moments to be blessed, but in doing so, I wind up feeling more stressed than merry.

I thought about this piece for quite a while.

Image Credit: @teamusa

Like a magnet, I was drawn to it, day after day. It beckoned me and gave me comfort.

I knew that I should be focused on my own movement and not hers, but I found myself feeling a little judgy. She was twirling her hips to the rhythm of the music.

My instinctual response to that panic was to gun it, right into the oncoming traffic; I may have even closed my eyes. There were loud honks and what I assume were Croatian curse words.

The piece I had intended to write was totally derailed by Ted Lasso.

This is my POV for the week: I am concerned about technology and its effects on our mental health, as it seems to blur the line between what is real and what is not.

And I know I am not alone.

When a friend asked me recently where I find my inspiration, I had to pause for a second. I knew that although I do feel inspired most days, I find the source of that inspiration well beyond the machine that sits in front of me all day long.