It is February— that funny in-between time in the winter when the weather can do all kinds of crazy things. Here in Northern California, it has been raining off and on.

When a good moment arrives (whether it be a gorgeous sky, a fun moment with one of my kids, a delicious meal, or just a moment of peace), I have found myself really leaning into it and squeezing all the juice out of it (so to speak).

I’ve been thinking about my intentions for the year, and not writing a mile-long list of resolutions like I used to in years past. I feel like this is a sign of growth for me, as I think I used to buy into the “new year, new you” idea that tends to proliferate in magazines and newspapers around the start of the new year.

The first time I drove up one of San Francisco’s vertiginous hills, I was pretty sure my car wasn’t going to make it. I still remember the street we were driving up when my son, then nearly two, said to me “I no yike dis hill.” “Me neither,” I replied. It was terrifying.