One year ago today I was sipping coffee whilst digging my toes into the soft, sandy beaches of Thailand’s Koh Phi Phi, an island devastated by the tsunami in 2004. Today, I am sipping tea at my writing desk as the gray New England skies loom overhead, accompanied by scattered showers that churn the biting cold salt water in nearby Little Bay.
I’ve always found a strange sort of comfort in recalling where I was a year ago (or two, or twelve for that matter). I keep a small planner at hand with the sole purpose of writing down what I’ve done each day, rather than what I will do. It keeps things in perspective.