My perfect day

A perfect day for me? It’s here. At the beach. Walking. Thinking. Planning. Dreaming. Processing. I grew up in Philadelphia, but I spent so much time at the beach. Summers at the Jersey shore, long weekends with family who had shore houses, and when I was 12, my parents bought a place near the Delaware Bay. Half a block from the water. Every week in the summer, we’d go. And while my parents loved it, I…well, I moped my way through it.

I hated that house as a kid. It felt like it took me away from my real life—my friends, my city. So I’d escape to the beach. Alone with my thoughts. Rescuing horseshoe crabs, watching the birds during migration. It was never where I wanted to be, but somehow, it became a place where I could just…think.

My dad used to tell me I’d appreciate that house one day. And of course, he was right. It’s not the house itself—it’s what the beach became for me. Now, no matter where I am, the beach is where I go to think, especially when life feels heavy, or the next steps aren’t clear.

Today, I’m here again. On a different coast now, but still walking, still processing. I’m thinking about how I got here—all the twists and turns, the moments that felt impossible, and the choices that shaped me. The hardest things I’ve had to face. The unexpected gifts along the way.

But I’m also thinking about what’s ahead. I’m in a moment of change, a place where everything feels like it’s shifting. Maybe I’ll build something new. Maybe I’ll go back to something I’ve always loved. Who knows? The thing about the beach is that it reminds me that nothing stays the same. The waves keep coming. The sand keeps shifting. Life moves forward, whether we’re ready or not.

And that’s okay. Sometimes, the uncertainty is the gift. The reminder that we don’t have to have it all figured out. We just have to keep walking, keep thinking, keep dreaming—and trust that the path ahead will reveal itself.