By Laura Spiegel

A dear friend gifted me this picture when I turned thirty. It’s made its rounds from the office to the bathroom and back again several times over the past ten years. On this crisp January morning, as I sit with my coffee cup steaming and the house quiet for the first time in weeks, I’m reminded that this quote is just as meaningful today as it was all those years ago.

I spend many of my moments wanting. Yearning. Clinging to some idealized life that I believe exists somewhere other than exactly where I am. Some days, those dreams are simple. A warm meal. A peaceful bedtime routine. More giggles and fewer shouts and inevitable bursts of tears.

Other days, my wishes are bigger. A day where my little one no longer has to swallow dozens of pills and go the extra mile to help her lungs stay healthy. A magic pill. An edited gene. A cure for cystic fibrosis.

Most days, I live somewhere in between. Not quite discontented but vaguely unsettled and distrusting of myself and my choices. Am I on the right career path? Do my kids know they are loved? Will my husband always be this patient with me? Am I making the most of this time we have together?

This gift from my friend reminds me to pause. To be kinder to myself. To realize that the patience I resolved to have more of in the New Year applies not only to how to I treat those around me, but also to how I treat myself. I am doing my best. Amidst the frustration and disappointment and anger that come with everyday life, there are bear hugs, butterfly kisses, and toothy grins. Amidst the shortness that comes alongside fourteen years of marriage, there are tender moments and apologies and promises to do better. Amidst the door slams and sleepless nights, there is a family tucked away in their home, preparing to ring in another decade.

The deepest joy does not exist somewhere far away. It’s a New Year’s Eve countdown with my husband and kids doing the worm in the family room. It’s New Year’s Day with my son and daughter begging to read just another page. It’s 11:30 on a Thursday with a blue sky and a quiet home and a new blog that I hope resonates with others.

It’s not perfect, but it’s real. And it’s exactly where I am meant to be.