1. Morning walks. This time of year, they can be dark, cold, and windy, but I still love them so much.

2. Good people. They are everywhere, and I’m lucky to call some of them my friends, my family. When “the shit hits the fan,” you learn who is up to the task, who is going to stick around and help. There will be people you expected more from that will leave you disappointed, but I don’t dwell there for too long. I wish them well and let them go. And the others, the ones who show up and stay, hold space — they are precious. They will make soup or send pie, send cards and texts and leave comments on your posts, bring flowers from their gardens, check in on you, totally understand when you have to cancel plans, give you hugs, and make you laugh.

3. Practice. It is the center of everything, the first and the last thing, the thing I can do poorly or well and it has the same benefits, my soft spot to land, the ground, my refuge.

4. Fall. In particular the color, the slowing down, the light, the quiet.

5. My tiny family, small house, little life. October 9th was Eric and I’s 30th anniversary. I feel so lucky, not just that I found my person and am so happy, but that he feels exactly the same way. 

Bonus joy: dark chocolate covered salted caramels, zucchini muffins, falling leaves, color printers, help with the hard things, kitchen counter love notes, books, listening to podcasts, clean sheets, funeral casserole, my heating pad, down blankets and pillows and coats, wool socks, vaccines, stretching, naps, the pool, sitting in the sauna, massage, catching up with friends I haven’t seen in a while, other people’s babies and kids and dogs and gardens, saying what needs to be said, watercolors, trees, trails, garbage people, grocery shopping, clean laundry, texting with Chris and Mom and Chloe’, going to Little Bird Bakeshop with Carrie, lemon poppy seed scones, reading in bed at night while Eric and Ringo sleep.

1. Morning walks. While I was in Oregon the past few weeks, I hardly even went outside let alone took a walk, so it was so good to be back out there again. Things are turning golden and it’s darker and cooler in the morning. This is my favorite time of year in Colorado.

2. All the therapy and practice past me did. This past year I have lived through some of the hardest moments of my life. The reason I not only survived them but was able to simultaneously ease the suffering of those around me and take care of myself is all the work I’d put in during the years, the decades leading up to these moments.

3. Dad’s hospice care team, Mom’s home health care team, family and friends. My brother and I were Mom and Dad’s primary caretakers these past few months, but we couldn’t have done it without all the help and support we got. In particular, it enabled us to do for him the hard thing that Dad wanted — to die at home.

4. Aqua aerobics. My love of the pool includes simply moving around in the water and swimming, but it all started with my first aqua aerobics class five years ago.

5. My tiny family, small house, little life. The last few weeks of my dad’s life, being there and caring for him and assisting my mom in her recovery from a stroke, were some of the most difficult, most brutal moments of my life. I’m grateful I got to be there, AND it was so hard. I have always been thankful for the life I’ve cultivated but I’m even more grateful now — it’s just SO good, so right for me. Everything about it. Even cleaning out cupboards, which I did today when I tackled both freezers and the pantry and threw out anything that was too old — which was just about everything in the freezer we have in the garage.

Bonus joy: Baby Joe (born to Sarah, the only daughter of my Uncle Joe who died last year), sleeping in my own bed, being able to be there when my dad passed, sitting in the backyard in the sun with Ringo, the last of the tomatoes from the garden, muffins, the chicken noodle soup Eric made last night, lidocaine patches, my primary physician, massage, the massage chair at the gym, sitting in the sauna with Eric, texting, the carrot cake my Uncle Phil made, getting to spend time with family, being part of a family that hugs and says “I love you,” being able to interrupt old habits and ways of thinking, dental insurance, bluetooth speakers, down blankets and pillows, wool socks, pajamas, another new baby on his way, being able to let go of things I don’t need anymore because I know they are going somewhere or to someone good, letting go of grudges, being smart enough to not fall for a scam, listening to podcasts, reading in bed at night while Eric and Ringo sleep.