Last March, I wrote a blog called New Beginnings. In the article, I discussed how I have grown to understand my own rhythms of work and that October 1st and April 1st are my personal new beginnings. I also shared that “September often felt more like the final sprint at the end of a marathon rather than a new beginning.”

This is still true. This month, every member of our family transitioned into a school routine in some way, and I professionally interfaced with multiple educators and administrators navigating new fall schedules. I completed my fourth triathlon during the first week of September, and celebrated my birthday with family. Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Sukkot, Simchat Torah and a friend’s Bat Mitzvah were all neatly tucked within the thirty days of September, and I considered just moving our family into the temple’s sukkah to reduce our commute. Unsure how best to answer the casual ‘how are you’ question posed by friends and colleagues, I found myself saying, “Well, it’s clearly September…in all its glory!”

This, too, is true. It is September, in all its glory. In the midst of assuring my children and myself that we would make it to a calmer October, I remembered that I love this month. I love that I needed to pull out a sweater several mornings. I love that, some evenings, the scents of fall drifted into my windows. I love that, while on my way to a board meeting while the sun was still shining, I looked up and discovered an enormous Harvest Moon low on the horizon, visible only if glanced at the right moments of my trip. I love that the very pace of September reminded me of the gold-nugget life lesson that can be an answer to almost anything: be present. The intensity of our September schedule was breath-taking; yet our love of September was found in taking a deep breath and being present for each experience we had.