Some days, it’s all I can do to not pull over my car and try like mad just to soak in all the beauty of my surroundings, to bask and breathe and drink deeply of the way the colors and light play on my sentimental soul. And then I remember that it’s okay to let those moments just be that…moments. Beautiful, sweet, rich moments.

Come holiday time, my nostalgia goes into high gear. I suppose that being home and falling more deeply in love with my wonderful family and all its nuances and quirks magnifies that a bit. Just last night my sister decided to pull out my old boxes from the attic and go through them–old yearbooks, awards, journals. It’s funny to see who I was a decade ago and the things that mattered to me. I can tell you with certainty that a decade ago I didn’t think I’d be the girl who prefers down jackets to dresses and campfire smell to perfume. Not that I ever expected to be a girly girl.

Lately, this girl I’ve been growing into has been feeling very blessed. Content. But not quiet content. Not sit-still content. Instead…dynamic, distracted, fidgety, wiggle-dance content. Joyful. Most days, I am absolutely certain that I am exactly where I’m supposed to be. I am doing things that I LOVE and I have wonderful people to share them with. I am convinced more and more that my attitude is entirely up to me. I can choose to be fearful or happy or stressed out or hopeful. I try to be realistic, to temper my tendency to spend too much time with my head in the clouds with the reality of current limitations and locations.

And most days that works out pretty well for me. Except…perhaps sometimes it is potential that most reduces me to feeling timid and unsure. Potential to succeed or to fail. Potential to accomplish. Potential to fall down, to get hurt. What IF I reach a goal? Then what? What is it after that that I press towards? I relish the process of progress, sometimes more than the resolution of accomplishment. What do I do in the aftermath? I feel like this colors every aspect of my life–my relationships, my studies, my dreams, and my endeavors.

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With all that said, I treasure the dialogue that weaves these pieces into my life, and the people with whom I share these moments. So often I feel like it’s all I can do to just tell the people I love how much they mean to me. I can’t hug them enough, I can’t offer enough to really demonstrate how deeply they are cared for. Sometimes it hurts! Risking sounding trite, I’d say I’m thankful, if that word even does it justice. Friends, future and present, near and far, know that you are loved and appreciated, always. Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.

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