I instinctively admire my mother for reasons obvious to anyone who knows her. She has lived out her family business (now WOSB*) with poise and professionalism, has competed in races I could not dream of completing (like the Ironman: a 26.2 mile run, 112 mile bike ride and 2.4 mile swim), and her keen sense of direction has me often calling her my human compass. She’s plain ole adorable and fit as a fiddle, and treats the world with kindness, making friends wherever she goes.

She’s the reason I ran the 2015 Brooklyn Half Marathon, why I got into yoga 10 years ago, why my childhood was filled with awesome sounds like Madonna, Moby, and Prince (RIP), why I know some of my absolute favorite people. HECK – if not for my mom, I wouldn’t have met the bar owner… where I work Friday nights… where I met my BOYFRIEND. Whoa.

Maybe it’s her birthday coming up, or Mother’s Day, or both. Or the fact that she’s in Paris and I’m sitting in her house right now, at the countertop where I used to do my homework, that’s made me so grateful and reflective.

Yes, and no.

It started last week, when I spent the day at said boyfriend’s house, pulling weeds out from between the stone tiles around the pool and backyard. I was into it. Really into it.

The sun was shining on my back as I pulled carefully and strong, trying best to get each straggly green clump out with all its roots. I kept hearing her voice in my head. “If you don’t get the roots, why do it at all? They’ll just grow back.” I used to dread pulling weeds in the backyard 20 –eek, ugh, blech, help— years ago. But that day I remembered how pretty it made everything look, and how nice it was to get on the ground, rake leaves, find roly-poly water bugs under a rock. It was calming, therapeutic.

It was time spent on the earth, on the stones, closer to the center of gravity, finding peace with my own “Mother Nature.”

For my mother’s mother**, and for my massage business, I made sure to wear gardening gloves.

*Woman Owned Small Business (go Ma!)

**My grandmother Eleanor was the queen of gardening. And the queen of soft hands.

My grandmother, Eleanor.

Snapchat twins. ❤