“we never reach a point at which our lives lie before us as a clearly marked open road, never have and never should expect a map to the years ahead, never do close those circles that seem, at thirteen and fourteen and nineteen, so urgently in need of closing.”

Joan Didion, After Henry

Life feels like circles. No open roads or maps. Beginnings become endings and beginnings again. The road is straightaways and switch backs. Darkness and light dance. Certainty and urgency and ego laugh. Wisdom and patience and stillness listen.

There is sweet release in circles. Circles gently open and close. Circles bounce and glide. A leveling of power occurs in circles. It is easier to look each other in the eyes in circles. Our stories understand circles. Edges are softer. Either/or fades in context. Desire feels circular. Dreams are circular. Somewhere in the love of circles is the love of equanimity and balance and impermanence.

If I could talk to my self at thirteen, or fourteen, or nineteen, I would have a few things to say. Appreciate circles — the edges of the sun, the crest of a wave, the petals of flowers, the ripples in a pond, empty bowls. Pay more attention than you think you need to. Forgive more than you think you need to. Breathe deeply often. Ask a lot of questions. Be wary of sure-footedness. Thirst for joy. Love circles open.