For everything there is a season and for me, the holiday season is for eating. The span from Thanksgiving to New Year’s Day pulls me like a magnet toward the aromatic and gustatory delights of my childhood with new ones thrown in to keep the party going. It’s a six-week marathon of sugarplum fairies dancing on my taste buds.

During a silent meditation retreat this winter, I realized how the absence of speech can lead us to a fullness that warms us to the core.

I’ve come to learn that whether I meditate on my breath or by putting one foot in front of the other, I always arrive at the place where I need to be.