Hi Reader,

I was in Colorado recently for my nephew Sid’s wedding (Sid also happens to be the person behind much of the web work for my business).

Weddings have a way of bringing together people from all the different parts of our lives. Family comes from near and far. People you haven't seen for years suddenly appear in front of you. There are long conversations, short conversations, old stories and new ones.

And, in this case, some very big Colorado skies.

Not long before the wedding, I had lunch with the first person I ever hired as an employee at Yoga Garden SF, about 15 years ago now.

We were talking about the different chapters of life, about friendships, and about the people we choose to spend our time with. She said something that stayed with me.

She told me that these days she finds herself wanting to be around people who are resilient and kind. People who have had difficulties—and may be going through difficulties now—but who don't feel the need to hand those difficulties to every person they encounter.

I've thought about that quite a bit since.

There is an important distinction here. We need people with whom we can be completely honest. We need to be able to say, I'm having a terrible time. I'm frightened. I'm angry. I don't know what to do.

That isn't what she was talking about.

I think she was talking about what we habitually bring into a room.

All of us carry things. Disappointments. Worries about our children. Money. Work. Aging. Relationships. Bodies that don't always cooperate. Plans that didn't turn out the way we expected.

Resilience doesn't mean pretending those things aren't there.

Maybe it means they don't have to become the first thing we offer another person.

At the wedding, I was surrounded by family—my daughters, my brother who had come from Australia, my other brothers, nieces and nephews, and this new marriage beginning in front of all of us.

Like every family, ours has a long and complicated history.

And yet there we were.

Together.

Laughing. Dressing up. Taking photographs. Looking at the mountains and that enormous sky. Celebrating two people beginning something new.

Perhaps this is one of the quieter practices of life: becoming more conscious of what we bring with us when we enter the company of other people.

Not denying what is difficult.

Not pretending everything is wonderful.

But remembering that we can also bring curiosity. Humor. Generosity. Kindness.

And perhaps most of all, resilience.

We don't always get to choose what we carry.

But we do have some choice about what we pass along.

Best,

Marisa