A Road Less Traveled

This is a post I wrote over a year ago, just after launching the beta of NOURISH Evolution. It could have been written yesterday (and its exhortation is still applicable to me today) about being on the other side of so many other things: the NOURISH Evolution redesign, the launch of My Nourish Mentor, growing comfortable with teaching and leading and being on TV. We all go at such a pace it can be easy to forget where we’ve come from. Maybe you, too, are at a place where it would do you good to pause and ponder … what you’ve accomplished, what still lies ahead, who you are. If that’s you, I hope you enjoy revisiting this as much as I did.

For months and months and months I’ve been going at a pace that I knew I couldn’t–didn’t want to—sustain, just to get over the hump. And now that NOURISH Evolution is on its feet in its first iteration, I feel like I’m finally on the other side. Which is very good. One of my goals was to get over the hump before the end of July, when my daughter starts her first days of pre-school, so I can really focus on nourishing my family and friendships.

But I realized this weekend that in order to do that, I also needed time to renew myself.

road-less-traveled

So this morning I woke up committed to taking some me time. I dropped Noemi off at daycare still unsure of where I was headed. Yoga? I thought . . . but my body is sore and a class felt like too much. A walk with Jann? I thought  . . . but Jann’s grandsons are in town and she’s got her hands full. It was early and cool on a day destined to be a scorcher, and I suddenly realized how much I craved being outside, walking, moving, inhaling. I headed towards West Dry Creek to take my usual loop around Brack and Jameson alone; a walk that I know every step of almost by heart.

And then I felt a gentle urging to keep driving up the road; to go someplace I hadn’t been before.

So I did, not much further, just a mile or two. I turned left onto Wine Creek Road, parked at the edge of a vineyard and stepped out to explore. All the elements were the same—lush vineyards, the broad shoulders of St. Helena in the distance, the gentle rise of Geyser Peak—but the perspective on each was different than I was used to and I felt like I was seeing the beauty of this place with fresh eyes. I recognized the scent of crushed fruit and dusty earth that has brought tears to my eyes more than once in the past for the sentiment it stirs in me of a longing satisfied. I stopped to nibble on plump blackberries and plums and marveled anew how breakfast can grow wild by the side of the road.

This place claimed me over a decade ago; it was the first place I ever felt called home to and it’s where I am content and humbled to be raising a daughter I never could have imagined with a husband I never could have hoped for doing what I never would have dared dream.

I just needed to be reminded.

It was a road I hadn’t traveled before—much like the one I’m headed down with NOURISH Evolution—and it was just where I needed to be.

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2 Replies to “A Road Less Traveled”

  1. Lia, what a great entry! I’m sure all working moms can identify with the need to find that balance between caring for others and caring for themselves. We don’t often enough make that deliberate decision to care for ourselves, take a walk, let our mind wander and allow ourselves time to just “be.” Bravo you! Thanks for sharing your journey of NOURISH Evolution with us! It’s has been so encouraging and inspiring to watch it unfold!

  2. Thank you, Jules! And thanks for being such a part of the journey . . . we need to remind each other to let ourselves get lost every now and again, don’t we ;-)?

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