Walking my dog has become a time of contemplation. Shasta is a sweet, smart, joyful tiny goldendoodle that joined our family as a 7 week old puppy in May of 2020. She’s truly my third child, and she brings me incredible happiness. I don’t always get the chance to walk her, as my crazy shifts at work often preclude that. Luckily, today I had the day off and taking her with me for a stroll of our neighborhood was a real bright moment of the morning. 

The yellow leaves decorating the streets, sidewalks and lawns crunched under our feet as we went up one block and down the next, Shasta sniffing her way along. The sun in my face and the breeze in my hair lifted my spirits, reminding me of the beauty of autumn. I noticed a tree that had lost almost all of its leaves; they lay peacefully on the grass beside me. 

The delicate fan-like shapes of the gingko biloba leaves at my feet transported me back to the campus of Queen’s University in the late 90’s. Being at Queen’s was one of the most peaceful, contented times of my life. I was young, free, independent, strong and directed. I knew what I wanted, how to get there, and that my life would work out and be wonderful. Walking the lawns between the stately buildings, I loved listening to the birds and observing the beauty of nature around me. There is an arboretum on campus, filled with multiple species of spectacular trees such as Black Walnut, White Ash and the graceful Gingko Biloba. I would walk through this tranquil environment on my way to and from class, and would often sit down in the grass and leaves to read a book or just calm my mind. During statistics class our professor sent us out into the trees to gather leaves, measure them and compare them mathematically; this was one of the most enjoyable assignments I’ve ever been tasked with completing.

The gingko leaves today brought me back to a time when I was at peace; I was really, truly, myself. I was unapologetic for who I was, what I believed, what I wanted out of life. Life was an adventure, with twists and turns that I enjoyed navigating no matter the outcome. Responsibilities were scant, and when present, they were never too much to bear. 

These days, my life, though wonderful in many ways, is complex. No longer unencumbered, I must steer my way through storms that recently have threatened to drown me. Enmeshed and highly successful in a career that is exactly what I always wanted, I am learning to pull back from the edge of burnout. A mother to two fascinating, marvelous kids, I have to figure out how to best parent them lovingly while maintaining appropriate limits. I must also keep them safe in a time of frightening uncertainty, when our very identity as Jews puts us at risk and the country we love, Israel, is at war. Add to all this the fact that my husband and I are navigating the most difficult patch in our fifteen-year marriage, and my world has become almost unsustainable.

So wading through memories of gingko biloba today, sun and wind kissing my cheeks, Shasta at my side, brought me peace in the midst of devastation. I remembered who I was, who I still am, and who I could one day be. I saw a past, present and future full of sun, trees, seasons and, I hope, serenity.