This morning, the first of the new year, was marked by a certain kind of bliss. I left my friend's house early and stopped for an artichoke croissant at a nearby panadería. It was chilly and I was reminded, biting into my croissant, of how much I love to simply savor. And so I kept walking, farther than I thought, watching the city wake up and the wind rustle tree branches into embrace.

Later, as I dug into Gloria Steinem's "My Life On The Road" on my train ride home I was struck by the several reasons she had decided to write this book. "My second purpose," says Gloria, "is to encourage you to spend some time on the road, too. By that, I mean traveling--or even living for a few days where you are--in an on-the-road state of mind, not seeking out the familiar but staying open to whatever comes along. It can begin the moment you leave your door."

The idea of living for a few days where you are is such a treasured concept. What would it take to truly live where we are? To grow where we are planted? We so often ascribe wanderlust to worlds away. Practicing honoring the thousand ecosystems we are in in this very moment is a sweet act of radical love. It's one that I wish for each of us in the coming year.

Recently, on the phone with my brother, he encouraged me to "wake up yearning for what I already have."

There is so much life in the soil. Worms and loam and layer of silt. There is so much life in the bones of our houses and friends and places of work. There is so much life in an apple, half-eaten, and a tree, withered from winter and still growing.

Maybe you are reading this essay at your kitchen table. Maybe you are scrolling through this on your phone. However you are, wherever you are, there is so much life surrounding you. Let's live this life. Let's hunger for what is already in us. The known, the unknown, the tangible, the tangible, the loved and the beloved.

Happy New Year. Here's to a string of perpetual fresh starts, to being "on the road" even when we are traversing the terrain of our own homes.

Kate WeinerComment