This week, I read something that addressed the topic of regret. The author pointed out that any present moment is tomorrow’s past.

I’ve seen this articulately more succinctly: today is tomorrow’s yesterday.

The author’s point was that those of us who are especially prone to regret or second guessing past choices should embrace this truth as a reason to show up more fully in the present moment.

If something could be changed in order to make life more meaningful and harmonious, he suggested, then change it.

If things are basically okay, then allow yourself to experience their fundamental okay-ness.

When life feels good, let it feel good.

None of these scenarios involves fixating on past decisions or probing at old wounds. Similarly, they don’t include anxious rumination about the future.

The message wasn’t exactly new to me; I’ve had my own thoughts about not worrying about the future or getting stuck on the past.

But there was something about the framing of today, this very moment, as “tomorrow’s past” that really struck me.

On Friday night, I lay in bed, ready to fall asleep. I turned my head to the side and caught a glimpse of the lovely, large windows that are my studio apartment’s best feature.

I thought about how I fell in love with them when I first saw this space. My love affair with the light here was one of many reasons why I felt so proud and excited make the studio a new home.

Moving can be symbolic as well as practical. In spite of the fact that I only relocated from uptown to downtown, that move was an important fresh start in my life. I felt so hopeful about it.

I still love my downtown habitat, but there’s been some inevitable life ups and downs in the nearly two years since I’ve been here.

In riding those waves, I’ve begun to take my surroundings for granted.

That night, my little living space was bathed in moonlight, thanks to the windows that I rightly chose not to cover with drapes or shades.

(As a side note, when I was figuring out what to do about the windows, a few readers suggested an eye mask; I was skeptical, as I’d had a hard time sleeping with eye masks before, but I ultimately found one that’s comfortable and solved the problem.)

As I lay in bed, looking out at the moonlight, I took a deep breath. I felt deeply that every night I fall asleep here is a gift.

And very morning, when I pull my eye mask down and see the sunlight streaming in—or peer out into the quiet darkness of an early winter morning—I’m being given the gift of a new day.

Those days, strung together, are my life.

I spend so much time dwelling on what’s wrong, what’s not working, what needs to change. I forget that much of what I experience now is what I dreamed about at some point long ago.

I like to greet Easter Sunday as a time of hope and faith in new beginnings, but today I’m focusing on the gratitude I feel for the here and now. All is not perfect, but all is well.

May today, tomorrow, and the next day be blessed; may they become a past that we can treasure one day.

That’s my Easter wish. Happy Sunday, friends. Here are some recipes and reads.

Recipes

1. I had a raw, shaved artichoke salad this week that knocked my socks off. I’d love to try this one and substitute vegan parmesan.

2. I never think to roast sugar snap peas, but now I’m intrigued.

3. I’ve made homemade peanut and almond butter cups before, but I love Lindsay’s idea to add banana to the recipe.

4. A really cool barley salad recipe—I love the addition of candied ginger.

5. I sure wish that I’d made Anthea’s strawberry sugar cookies for Easter today!

Reads

1. A new, targeted treatment for postpartum depression could become a powerful part of perinatal medicine.

2. Some helpful, evidence-based tips for recovery after exercise. Many of my clients are surprised when I tell them to focus on carbohydrates after workouts, as there’s so much focus on protein for athletes. But both macronutrients, carbs and protein, are essential for refueling.

3. More reporting on the ways in which eating disorders can present in young men and boys. I think it’s so helpful and brave of the author to mention his history of orthorexia. I see a lot of that particular eating disorder among my male clients.

4. Joan Tanner has cooked in her “forever kitchen” for 55 years. I love her responses in this interview, which touches on being a grandparent, entertaining, and the several “lives” that any kitchen is bound to have over decades of time.

5. Such an important reminder. I tell my clients “I don’t know, but I’ll research it for us” often, and I’m committed to being a practitioner who is upfront about the limits of her knowledge.

Wishing a happy holiday to those who celebrate Easter today, and a nice remainder of the day to all.

xo