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. 

1. Morning walks. I’m not going to lie, some mornings I’d rather stay in bed. And it’s getting darker and colder out there, little by little, day by day. And this year it won’t be as golden as fall usually is because of the extra rain we had all summer long. And this past week, my bum knee was achy and cranky. And Ringo, as always, is determined to eat every stick, dead thing, abandoned food item, and horse apple we encounter on the trail. And yet, every morning walk is such good medicine.

2. Cancelled plans. Knowing I am heading to Oregon on Monday made me very careful with my energy this week. I had to cancel a few things in order to give myself some space. It was such a relief. In what seems like “related news,” I also made a deal with myself to stay off social media altogether while I’m in Oregon, to be more present, so I took Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube off my phone. Don’t worry, I downloaded the first season of Deadloch and the final season of Sex Education, checked out a new book from the library, and have a few podcast episodes and a playlist, all downloaded so I don’t have to pay for data overages again on this trip, (there’s no wireless at my parent’s house).

3. Practice. It both comforts me, is a soft place to land, and strengthens me, provides support. Because of it, I’m soft enough to stay open to what is, and strong enough to stay with it.

4. Pie. With the exception of two, these are all pies Eric has made. Google images shared this with me this morning and it made me realize there hasn’t been nearly enough pie this summer.

5. My tiny family, small house, little life. Oh, how I am going to miss them while I’m gone. And yet, knowing they’ll be here waiting for me when I get back helps. 

Bonus joy: Books that aren’t necessarily prize worthy but are so fun to read, writing with my wild-ish sangha, poetry, chocolate zucchini bread, a big glass of cold clean water, the chance to start over again, practicing yoga with Red Sage, glue stick, scissors, other people’s dogs, peach flavored Kefir, The Other Black Girl on Hulu (this was fun), watching Iron Chef and Snapped with Eric, making each other laugh, going to bed early, bird song, ink refills, all of Ringo’s different barks and howls and sighs, that the two lumps we found on Ringo are benign, my brother and niece who are taking such good care of my parents, Mom getting home from stroke rehab, getting in the pool, sitting in the sauna, a massage appointment, brunch plans with a dear friend I haven’t see in WAY too long, texting with Chloe’, reading in bed at night while Eric and Ringo sleep.