Last week, my great-nephew Teddy was visiting from Georgia, and we took him to his very first Major League Baseball game at Wrigley Field. He was an absolute champ, enduring the Chicago heat and humidity without a single complaint. We had incredible seats, just two rows behind the Cubs dugout, and the man sitting next to me and I chatted on and off through the first six innings.

Last weekend I taught alongside the amazing musician Girish as he sang and played live music during practice, and honestly, it felt otherworldly. After class I told someone it was one of my top three favorite teaching experiences ever, and they immediately asked, “Well… what are the other two?”

As the season turns and spring begins to unfold, there’s a quiet sense of return in the air. Light lingers a little longer. The earth softens. What has been resting begins to stir again. Repetition lives everywhere in nature. Everything is in rhythm. Everything is in return.

Insurance might be one of the most boring words in the English language. Paperwork, policies, fine print. My son works in insurance and even though he has told me a million times what he does, I am not exactly sure I could explain it to you.

I just returned from Panama and spent every morning watching this man (I am so mad I don't know his name) clean the pool. So slow and methodical. Same task, same tools, same rhythm. He moved slowly and steadily, with complete care, never rushed, never distracted.