A few years ago I selected “placid” as a focus word. Each year, rather than writing New Year’s resolutions (which I have never been fantastic at keeping), I select a word as a focal point. Sometimes the word serves as a catalyst. Other times it’s a theme.
The year of “placid,” it served as a sort of meditative chime. I needed that word, that reminder to bring me back over and over again in the midst of chaotic waves of change, to a place of calm stillness. I needed to watch muddy waters clear.
It was the year after my father-in-law died. I was very close to him and so was everyone who loved him. He was magical.
During that time, I grieved. I learned it was okay to allow everyone grieve differently. My husband turned inward and almost refused to express emotion. My daughter is the complete opposite; she…
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