I’ve been walking the trail that winds around the Colorado River in downtown Austin for nearly thirty years. Long enough, that it has gone through a name change. The views from the trail have changed dramatically. The infrastructure has expanded in some areas, lessened in others.

There are several places on the loop that elicit visceral memories, transporting me to different seasons in my time here. Spots where I am 22 again, exploring my new home, full of hope, but hopelessly naive. More than a handful of places where I was processing heartache and painful decisions. There are spots that make me ache to be pushing my double stroller, often with one hand and a child on my hip. Memories of lollipops at Lou Neff point and impromptu songs, courtesy of my daughter, from a decade ago. Back when a lollipop was a novelty that would soothe them. And there were moments like yesterday, moments of reflection.

The morning was ideal for a walk at Town Lake, I mean, Lady Bird Lake. It was still, temperate, the sky, azure blue. I found myself looking at it through new eyes. The light was such that structures were reflecting off the water in a way I was drawn to capture. I found myself snapping photos, as if it were a new experience. I delighted in things I had not noticed before, which caused me to reflect.

Yes, the walk felt familiar, in that, it is. Yes, all of the memories of the past returned. But, something felt different. And what was different, was me.

I wrote a piece nearly a decade ago, entitled, “My Cup Runneth Over.” In it, I spoke about the duality of the phrase. How it can be an abundance of gratitude, or an abundance of stress. How there are circumstances in life that are beyond our control, but our response to those things can profoundly impact our lives. At the time that I wrote that, my children were in the sweetest spot in life. There was so much to be grateful for, and yet, I was often on the edge. Was it fatigue? Anxiety? Fear? Insecurity? How much was in my head and how much was my circumstances? I was, more often than I would like to admit, spinning in that head space.

On this familiar path, I realized, that perhaps I was seeing things through new eyes, because I feel like a new person. The last two years have brought enormous changes for me. Some things I chose, others I would never choose. There were days, in the hardest moments, when I felt I had to make a cognitive choice to literally put one foot in front of the other. When I didn’t have the strength, but knew I needed to keep moving forward.

There are many adages I could choose to insert here. All have a slightly different connotation, but all point toward similar outcomes. The darkness eased, I faced my fear, I took the leap, became the change. And as I was walking, I was, once again, overwhelmed. This time, with gratitude.

I have peace in my life, that transcends challenges. I feel empowered in the face of those challenges. I have hope, without the naivety. I have been buoyed by amazing friends and family through this season. I have been renewed.

As I walked, I kept thinking about reflection, in each of its definitions. The light reflections on the water, the reflections of the past. The mathematical definition which is the transformation of a figure. The last two years have certainly been transformational.

I didn’t walk the trail at the same pace I used to. And I am okay with that. My goal in walking now is much different than it was when I began. What I am not okay with, is thinking about how quickly those years have gone. What I must think about is where I want to be in another thirty years. While I cannot know what the future will bring, I do know what I want to do with that time.

I looked at the skyline of Austin, the transformation evident. The same can be said about my reflection in the mirror over the last three decades. But the one I am most focused on, is the inner-transformation that we have the ability to effect. As we go into this holiday season, we will undoubtedly face challenges. The tension in the world is palpable. The division and confusion in a variety of realms can be paralyzing. But we can choose to put one foot in front of the other. We can support those in our community who need advocacy. We can choose peace in the chaos. We can reflect on our choices and keep growing. We can choose to reflect love, hope, and peace, to the best of our abilities, to those on our path.