Author, Mindfulness Teacher & Coach
“December arrives with a quiet invitation to soften, to melt into a slower rhythm within yourself.” This month arrives with holiday lights, full calendars, gatherings, expectations, and urgency, and yet, beneath all of it, December is your end-of-the-year test.
It’s Monday morning. I walked my husband to the parking garage on 57th, helped him load the car, and kissed him goodbye for the day. He’s heading back to our everyday life and a business meeting. I, on the other hand, am staying in New York City for one more day, a birthday weekend extension. Today, the Met awaits me.
The ancient wisdom keepers knew something we have forgotten: that unhappiness is not the absence of more, but the absence of depth. We have become strangers to our happiness, living on the surface of a life that was meant to be an ocean.
A week ago, my husband had a heart attack while we were on a quiet day trip to Bennington, Vermont. One moment we were admiring the countryside, the next I was yelling at him to pull over as he gripped his chest. With no cell signal and no time to spare, I took the wheel and drove fast, scanning desperately for an “H” sign on the roads. Somewhere between panic and prayer, we made it to the emergency room. (And yes, I may have tailgated a Florida license plate going 20 in a 30 mph zone. Desperate times, but I didn't honk at the driver.)
