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August 6, 2013

Sometimes I wonder how I’ll remember this time of my life.

The months of slow days, mostly by myself.

The months of morning yoga, and reading, and writing three drafts of a novel—only to discover it might not be the novel I want.

The year I stopped defining myself by my career, and saw that my path in life could go anywhere, and it was not always in my control.

The year I neglected our first backyard garden, and it bore fruit anyway.

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The year we got our first pets, two fish that I thought I wouldn’t like, by grew fond of.


The summer my kids ran up and down the stairs in capes and firefighter hats, saving their stuffed animals from certain peril.

The year I started doing yoga and meditating every day, and learned more about the spirals of my mind than I ever have.

The summer my son narrated a book while I listened, and wrote, and marveled at his imagination.

The summer a squirrel bit through my kitchen screen to grab one of the banana muffins I’d made on a cool summer morning.

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The summer the most exquisite butterflies visited our butterfly bush, and stuck around long enough for us to take pictures of them.

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The days I wondered, How did I get here? How do I deserve all this beauty?

The year my children became little incarnations of Henri Matisse and Jackson Pollock.


The July my husband and I decided to start a magazine, and had no idea where it would go, only that the mere idea of it nourished us.



The June we found a robin’s nest under our deck, and learned again that life sprouts everywhere…


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There is just no stopping it.


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{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }

Rudri Bhatt Patel @ Being Rudri August 6, 2013 at 4:24 pm

“How did I get here? How do I deserve all this beauty?” I loved these lines, the substance and the sustenance of this post, Jana. Brought me to tears.


Carol Smith August 6, 2013 at 6:04 pm

And this is why you write!


Ben Lloyd August 6, 2013 at 6:52 pm

You speak to my condition, Friend.

“stopped defining myself by career, and found my path in life could go anywhere” . . .

And then, the startling joy somehow everywhere. May I share something in the same vein with you?

Glad to be in touch with you and yours.


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