- Silence: I love the quiet, I find it to be so restorative. I often go on retreat and always think I will sleep endlessly – catch up on the hours I have missed, but then, in the silence I find myself energized and I get up early, refreshed.
- Coffee. I am so grateful for strong, black coffee. The simple ritual of pouring that first cup in the morning makes everything seem possible…at least for a few moments.
- Car rides with the kids. Even if it is just us driving in the morning traffic to school, or on the way home from school it is the optimal time for conversation. There must be something about being stuck in close quarters, facing forward, and the rhythm of the tires on the road that makes it seem OK to share.
- Figs. One of my most favorite fruits. When I was very little my grandparents had a fig tree in the back yard. I would sit under it and pull from its branches fig after fig warmed by the sun. It is a cellular memory that I relive each time I bite into one of those seedy, flavorful pockets of deliciousness.
- France. I am so in love with Paris and Provence and all points across the hexagon. I daydream about living on a small patch of French soil, in a stone house, with a gravel path leading to a country road that takes me to a small village where I buy croissants in the morning and a baguette in the evening. Romantic I know. Impossible? Perhaps, but one never knows…
- Antonio Vivaldi. The Red Priest. Son of Venice. My all-time favorite classical composer. Seriously, transcendental music. [Remind me to tell you about the time I was in Venice…]
- Naps. Oh my gosh, I just love naps. They are so delicious. What an indulgence, better than running my finger through the icing on a cake and then licking it off. So. Freaking. Good.
- Fog. It’s like silence and a nap rolled into one. I can sit (or lay) on the couch and watch it roll in outside our windows and it is meditation.
- Sourdough bread. With really good butter and apricot preserves, the golden orange goodness dripping slowly off the side and onto your fingers so you have to lick it off.
- Dreams. I am so grateful for dreams. I love being able to imagine still, even at midlife, that about 80% of all things are still possible. I could move to France or travel the world, I could become a best-selling author, or watch my daughter on Broadway, or my son graduate from Stanford. I could take riding lessons or buy a small house on a patch of green and paint all day. I could learn to bake bread or garden or fence. Dreams keep me alive.