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It's been a while since I have had a dream that has left me in a place of deep contemplation and lingers quietly in the background as I go through my day. As far back as I can remember, I have always had dreams of either being naked in public or free-falling in complete darkness. I know these are two of the most common dreams. But I am talking about the more distinct dreams and personal dreams that are directly related to an ongoing situation or even something from the past. These are the ones I wake up and quickly write down, to prevent them from becoming hazy fragments of my imagination. To some, dreams are a mere function of the brain consolidating memories and to others, dreams provide answers to very difficult situations. Have you ever woken up crying out of intense grief or sadness? I have on multiple occasions experienced these intense emotions that blur the lines between being asleep and being awake. These episodes have been described as being quite normal when they do not happen frequently, and they tend to be related to unresolved trauma and grief—I suspect the latter may be true for me. The most significant happened when I had to confront the truth that I was emotionally abandoned by a partner. In the olden days, people believed that our dreams were full of clues about the future. - Alain de Botton explained to a child Dreams are not just the consolidation of experiences, thoughts, emotions, places   and people we have already encountered in our lives. They may or may not provide clues into the future, but they allow the mind to roam wildly and unrestricted in a way that would not be possible in the real world. About a year ago, I dreamt that I walked into my kitchen and there was a cockroach infestation. I loathe cockroaches and even worse, they were in my kitchen making my skin crawl in the dream. I remember screaming to my partner and asking him to get rid of them. We both grabbed kitchen towels and began chasing them out, but it almost seemed that they just kept multiplying. No matter how many we chased out or killed, more kept showing up. That morning, I woke up confused about what this meant. As a believer that dreams sometimes carry deep meaning, I did some research into what a cockroach infestation meant, and boy, was my mind blown. It was spot on about all the contributing emotions and I was able to expand on how some experiences from my past were manifesting in my dreams. It was shocking that so many revelations were being made while I slept. I even discussed this with my therapist. I was able to find my answers, but let's explore the meanings behind three of the most common dreams. Dreaming About Being Pregnant : Dreams of pregnancy often symbolize growth, transformation, and new beginnings. It doesn’t necessarily mean literal pregnancy but rather the birth of new ideas, projects, or phases in life. It can reflect: Creativity – You might be nurturing a new idea, goal, or personal transformation. Anxiety or anticipation – If the dream feels stressful, it could represent fear of change or responsibility. Personal growth – This may signal emotional or psychological development, especially if you’re evolving in a significant area of life. Dreaming About Falling : Falling dreams are typically linked to loss of control, insecurity, or fear of failure . They can indicate: Stress and instability – You might feel overwhelmed in some aspect of your life. Fear of failure – Falling can symbolize worries about not meeting expectations or losing something important. Letting go – Sometimes, it suggests that you need to release control and trust the process. Dreaming About Being Naked in Public : This dream is often associated with vulnerability, exposure, and self-consciousness . It can reflect: Fear of judgment – You may be worried about how others perceive you. Imposter syndrome – Feeling like you’re being “exposed” for not being as competent as you’d like to appear. Liberation – In some cases, it can symbolize a desire to be more authentic and free from societal expectations. Making Space for Your Dreams : It’s easy to get caught up in routines, responsibilities, and the endless to-do lists that make up adult life. There’s always something urgent pulling our focus, always a reason to push our dreams aside. But what if we started making space for them now, even in the smallest ways? Maybe it’s writing it down. Maybe it’s speaking it into existence, even if just to yourself. Maybe it’s taking one small step toward it, however uncertain it may feel. The truth is, dreams don’t just happen all at once. They unfold in moments, in choices, in tiny acts of courage. And sometimes, simply acknowledging them is the first step in bringing them to life. So, What Are You Dreaming About Right Now? What’s been tugging at the edges of your mind, waiting for you to notice? What would you do if there were no obstacles, no doubts, no fears holding you back? Maybe it’s time to listen. Maybe it’s time to give your dream permission to exist. I’d love to hear—what’s on your heart right now? What are you dreaming about? Let’s talk about it in the comments. (Photos: Top by Tran Phu/Unspash and second by Jr Korpa)

Originally published: 10/14/2024 When I say I'm an only child, most people quickly assume the picture of a nuclear family and that I was quite possibly spoiled. On the contrary, I grew up in an extended-matrifocal family where my grandmother was the head of the household. Within that structure were my mother and I, part of three generations of family living under one tin roof. This family structure is very common where I grew up and is a remnant of a rich African history that highly regards community and interconnectedness within the family unit. Being the first and only child to my mother within our extended family came with a unique set of experiences and challenges. One of the pivotal ones is, you are never the center of attention quite like you assumed you would be in a nuclear family, something I sometimes wished for. I am the product of a relationship that never saw its full potential. My mother had me in her latter teenage years and ended the relationship with my biological father when I was still a toddler. When I think of how young she was when she became a parent, it is unimaginable to me how she made it through. I did not become a mother until I was in my early thirties, and even then, I felt somewhat unprepared for the challenges of motherhood. I admire her ability to choose her parental obligations to ensure that she gave me the best life possible. She was lucky in so many ways to have my grandmother—the matriarch—who was very involved in raising not only her children but their children. One time, during my mid teens, my mother and I were having an intense conversation, while sitting on the east-facing porch of my grandmother's home under a moonlit sky. I questioned why she didn’t follow her sisters’ path and decided to stay with me. Her simple answer She said to me, "I never left, because your father is already not part of your life. I didn't want you to have two parents who weren't there." I was one of the lucky few. While some of my cousin's mothers migrated to the United States of America, my mother stayed. Her words meant so much to me then as it does now, because she at a young age saw the importance of staying. Two of her siblings made the very difficult decision to leave with the hopes of creating a better life and eventually reunifying with their children. The decision she made when I was younger is responsible in so many ways for the kind of relationship that we have today. It is one of love, care, and respect. I was her responsibility and her priority. I was also a priority to the members of my extended family. Growing up with a large family meant those moments when I felt like the luckiest kid in the world always included my grandmother, uncles, and cousins. My cousins replaced brothers and sisters, and my uncles took on a fatherly role all under one roof. My big family felt safe and my small family—my mother and I—felt like what I needed to become the woman I am today. *** It was my grandmother who ensured that my cousins and I made it to school on time every morning. My mother usually worked an early shift at a hotel in the north. It was my mother who brought me a Cadbury chocolate whenever she went out at night and left it on my pillow as a surprise for when I woke up. I cannot tell the story of being the first and only without telling you about the relationships with these two amazing mothers, my mother and my grandmother, who fulfilled their responsibility to me. To my grandmother, I was one of many, but to my mother, I was one of one. During one of our many conversations, my mother revealed that after having me, she made a promise to herself. She would not have any more children unless she got married. Well, she got married, but it was well after her child-bearing years, so she was stuck with just me. I did not have to compete for love and attention. My mother is mine and I am hers, but there is the unspoken reality that every adult only child must face. We will someday become the primary and possibly the only caretaker of our aging parent(s). That thought has lurked in the back of my mind, but it has become even more prominent now that I’m a parent and whenever I see more visible signs of aging in my mother’s face. Knowing that one day, I will be solely responsible for my mother is a reality that I look forward to sharing with her, yet scares me at the same time. *** I am your quintessential firstborn child. I possess the characteristics that birth theory attributes to us: leaders, organized, high achieving and/or overachievers, structured, and mature. I am not sure how much my absent father contributed to this, but I developed people-pleasing and perfectionist behaviors as a way to navigate the world. I realized from a young age that being the smart one was my golden ticket and the way to be noticed by both my maternal and paternal families. I went to an amazing high school and to show my gratitude I worked hard, even though I didn't always hit the mark. My mother was there to finance the additional support when I wasn’t doing so great at math with tutoring lessons. Being an only child meant that my mother’s hopes and dreams were concentrated on me. Every achievement felt momentous because it was not just my success—it was hers too. But with that shared pride comes a weighty sense of responsibility. There’s pressure to be the best, because unlike kids with siblings, there was no one else to share the burden of living up to my mother’s expectations. I do not recall what happened on that particular day. It may have involved me wanting to see my then-boyfriend or quite possibly not wanting to go to school, but I remember telling my mother, "You need to have another kid so you can focus on them." Here I am alive to tell the story tells you my mother is a gracious woman. Unlike some friends who were getting spanked for even the slightest indiscretion, my mother sometimes took a gentler approach. She was quite honestly an anomaly for a Gen X mother, making some of my friends envious of me. As I got older, we developed a very open relationship, one where I could talk to her about almost anything. When I began dating in my twenties after moving to New York City, she was the person I would provide information to about anyone I was seeing. I would text her the name and the license plate number that I would quickly memorize as I walked past either the front or back of the car of anyone who came to pick me up. When I finally moved out and got married, we would talk almost every day and it has been that way for as long as I can remember. We are joint to the hip like best friends, but with the respect given to elders. *** Now that I am in my early forties, the weight of responsibility has shifted from succeeding as an adult to possibly caregiving somewhere down the line. So many times I look at her and see a glimpse of the future. The realization that I will someday be the only person responsible for my mother's well-being is overwhelming. There will be no sibling to share decisions with, no one to balance financial burdens, no one else to sit by their bedside during hospital stays. It will be just me. That future looms larger as my mother ages. She is beautiful, young, and vibrant now and we only have a little less than a twenty-year age difference, but I see her getting older with each passing year, and I feel a subtle but ever-present sense of urgency. I need to and want to prepare—financially, emotionally, and logistically—for the day when I’ll take on the role of a caregiver. The idea is daunting. There’s fear of inadequacy: What if I can’t balance my own life with hers? Will I ever have to make the decision to send her into assisted living? And then there’s the fear of loss: What will happen when she's gone, leaving me without the one person who shaped my entire world? *** I am watching the way my mother loves and cares for her mother, who is about to be an octogenarian. Even though they are separated by distance, my mother makes it a priority to talk to my grandmother every Sunday and in between. She is the example of a great daughter and has shown herself to be nothing less than amazing. There has always been respect from my mother to my grandmother. As one of seven with five still alive, she can find comfort in knowing that there are others to share that responsibility. I on the other hand will have to experience this alone. The thought overwhelms me, but there is strength in recognizing and accepting the magnitude of the responsibility that is coming my way rather than denying it. Over the years, I’ve found comfort in talking about my fears with close friends who understand. I will also find support groups for caregivers who are or will be in a similar situation. I know I am not alone in feeling this way. Amid the anxiety, there is a deep sense of gratitude. The fact that I will someday be the one to care for my mother is a privilege—a chance to give her more love and show her appreciation for the sacrifices she made for me. I know there will be hard days, but there will also be moments of connection and gratitude. In the dual reality of immense love and intense pressure, it will be a profound opportunity to pour into and receive from the person who loved and cared for me the most.

Originally published: 12/06/2020 I was about to head to bed when I realized that this was the last Sunday I wouldn't be doing homework for a while unless I decided to torture myself by returning to school. I will finally finish that bachelor's degree. Then, I will be able to get back to what Sundays are meant for—rest and relaxation. Growing up in a small fishing village meant knowing that the shops were closed on Sunday. Everything was quiet. This was the day people chose to visit family members they hadn’t seen all week. It involved either the ritual of church, Sunday lunch and visits to see cousins, aunts and grandparents, or joining family gatherings to relax with well-fed, heavy bellies. That to me is what Sundays are meant for: connecting and creating relational bonds in relaxed settings. With more time on my hands coming up, I am looking forward to doing these things: Self-care Sunday . I am terrible at caring for myself more than what is necessary. That means I sometimes neglect making the time for a nice long shower along with my weekly skincare routine. I look forward to shaving my legs more than once every 2 months (I barely get hair on my legs and it’s fall, so hopefully you don’t think I’m a complete savage), doing more stretching, and working out in my living room. I don't do gyms. Not before the quarantine and most definitely not now. At home, self-care is in full effect.   Walks . I love being outdoors with my girls. I love nature and so do they. The only time we’re not outside is during storms, and if the temperature dips below 25 degrees. Even though all we get is twenty minutes of outdoor time, it is important to make that time to breathe in some air other than what’s in our home. I can’t wait to get back to that. Sunday dinners . Before going back to school, I had Sunday dinner more frequently. I enjoyed cooking and baking and having the girls in the kitchen more often with me. It’s science they can eat! I miss that terribly, so I look forward to us making dishes that take more than thirty minutes and delicious desserts for our tea parties. Detach + Nap . I am looking forward to strictly implementing a no electronic devices for several hours day and spend that time reading and/or napping. Recreational reading never got completed while I was in school, so I am looking forward to starting and finishing many books. I will also make naps a real priority to refresh us. Party . We love tea parties and dance parties at my house. I want us to tea party it up, and dance like no one is watching, because no one will be. I therefore declare Sundays as dance like it’s 1999 day. I want to increase the joy, laughter, and happiness in my home. So Sunday, here we come. Share some of your Sunday rituals. Photo by Alexandra Fuller/Unsplash

Nothing beats a warm slice of cake, especially one with citrus notes. It has been raining cats and dogs in NY state for months now, so for many weekends, we have been stuck indoors. I feel like the best thing to do in these situations is to bake, and that is exactly what I did this past weekend. Let's get into this recipe. Orange Cake You’ll need: 1 1/4 sticks of unsalted butter (10 tbsps), room temperature 3/4 cups of granulated sugar 2 eggs, room temperature 1 tsp vanilla extract 1 1/2 cups of all purpose flour 1 3/4 tsps baking powder 3/4 cups of milk 1 orange zested, leave 1 tsp out for topping 2 tbsps of orange juice Topping 1 tbsp confectioner's sugar 1 tsp lemon zest Preheat the oven to 350°F and grease or line with parchment paper and 8 inch pan. In a large bowl, cream the butter, sugar and lemon zest by hand or a mixer for about 2 mins or until well combined. Add in eggs one at a time, mixing well between addition. Follow with milk, vanilla extract and orange juice. Add flour and baking powder to the wet ingredients. Fold the mixture if by hand and if using a mixture, be sure to mix mix just enough for the flour particles to dissolve. Do not over mix. Pour the batter into your pan and bake for 30-35 minutes. Once baked, allow to cool for 10-15 mins in the pan and place on a cooling rack. Sprinkle with confectioners sugar and orange zest. Add halved orange slice to the edge of the serving dish (optional). Enjoy!

This morning, I decided to take the kids on a short hike at a nature preserve. As much as we enjoy walks in our neighborhood where there are lots of trees, I need to be surrounded by them to the point that I feel fully enveloped. That is my happy place . With my many years of experience as a nanny/babysitter and mother, I have spent a lot of time outdoors daily in the jungle of NYC schlepping kids all over the city, through endless noise pollution to the few genuinely green spaces that exist. Prospect Park, Highland Park, Battery Park, Lincoln Terrace/Arthur S. Somers Park, Central Park and Fort Tyron Park among others remain top tier, providing sweet relief from the chaos of the city I once lived in. Growing up in a fishing village on a small Caribbean island during the 80s, means spending a lot of time outdoors. There were no conveniences in the sense of an American upbringing. There were no movie theaters, no roller skating rinks, restaurants or malls to hang out in. Things were rugged at the time, but what we did have was access to a beautiful island with amazing terrain, and that was our playground. For that reason, I naturally gravitate to outdoor activities for my children, not because I have to, but because I absolutely enjoy it. This love of being outdoors and in nature set the foundation for me ensuring that my children spend at least 30 minutes outside daily, weather permitting of course. It also Inspired my move from NYC to Upstate New York, where access to state nature is in abundance with many state parks and nature preserves. I love waking up to rustling leaves swaying in the wind in the peak of summer and driving all of twenty minutes to a state park. Being in nature is truly the best medicine, teaching us all to appreciate the stillness and solitude of it all, while creating beautiful memories. This morning turned to be a fun time at our favorite nature preserve : Taking a seat/Albany Pine Bush Preserve 2025 As we started our walk, one of my littles complained of a headache. I treated her and we continued walking on the trail that we all picked together. They were excited and ready to make the best of this morning walk. Reading a story while walking/Renata Poleon 2025 As we walked, we came across the pages of a story book every couple of feet. It kept the girls engaged and excited to see what was next. We enjoyed the different types of flora native to the Capital Region and the deep remnants of history and the landscape. Pitch pine of the Albany Pine Bush Preserve/Renata Poleon, 2025 Pitch pine of the Albany Pine Bush Preserve/Renata Poleon, 2025 Flora of the Albany Pine Bush Preserve, 2025 While walking one of the girls observed the blackened bottoms of the trees. I was able to explain the process of prescribed fires, an important tool for the long-term management of the inland pine barrens communities and the species that depend on them in my own words. They continue to have a better understanding of ecological communities, ecosystems, and how they are sustained just by exploring earth’s playground. Evidence of prescribed burns at the blackened base of the trees/Renata Poleon, 2025 By the end, they were racing each other and my youngest said she enjoyed today’s hike. Whether you’re in the city and can find a small green space or have access to nature all around you, get outside and get moving. This is truly medicine for your soul.

Hello friends! Are you there? I have a confession. I have an obsession with dystopian leaning shows. One of my absolute favorites is Mr. Robot which is in a class of its own. When it first aired in 2015, I thought it was a cool, edgy, raw and an honest take about a hoodie-wearing hacker who mumbled monologues and occasionally committed cyberterrorism. Fast-forward to 2025, and it turns out Mr. Robot wasn’t just cool or edgy, it was clairvoyant. Rewatching the show now feels less like revisiting fiction and more like unlocking a prophecy left to us by creator Sam Esmail: a moody guidebook to late-stage capitalism, surveillance states, economic collapse, and mental fragmentation as a coping mechamism. Despite all this darkness, there’s something oddly comforting in it. It’s like yelling into the void only to hear Elliot Alderson whisper back, “Hello, friend.” Surveillance? Check. Corporate Control? Check. Mental Breakdown? Double Check. In 2015, the idea of a conglomerate like E Corp (or “Evil Corp,” as Elliot and everyone else in the show casually calls it) running the world felt like satire to many. In 2025, Amazon is selling us insulin, Google knows what we want before we do, and most people think Black Mirror is a lifestyle channel. Evil Corp isn't a dystopian invention, it's a startup pitch deck. “The world itself’s just one big hoax.”— Elliot Alderson, Season 1, Episode 1 That line used to feel like a college freshman’s existential Tumblr post. Now it reads like your uncle’s resignation letter from his third job this year. Esmail’s script doesn’t just hold up, it aged into a cynical middle-aged man muttering under his breath at Whole Foods or a millennial TikToker’s crash out in his car, questioning why he owes everyone two hundred dollars. In Mr. Robot , we watch as hackers from fsociety wipe out global debt by taking down Evil Corp’s records. It’s dramatic. It’s chaotic. It's every millennial and Gen Z’er’s dream scenario, right before realizing the collapse of centralized finance also erases all our digital bank accounts. Yet, in 2025, watching debt cancellation via cyber-attack doesn’t seem so far-fetched. We’ve just come out of another election cycle where half the candidates debated whether billionaires should be taxed and the other half debated whether reality still exists. Student loan forgiveness plans that were once in gridlocked in Congress have now been paused by a nefarious regime, giving great satisfaction in watching Elliot bring down the system with a few keystrokes? Therapeutic. The Mental Health of a Nation . Perhaps Mr. Robot ’s most enduring relevance isn’t just its take on corporate tyranny or tech surveillance, but its emotional honesty. Elliot’s dissociative identity disorder, anxiety, and loneliness aren’t plot devices—they’re the show’s core. “What if, instead of fighting back, we cave. Give away our privacy for convenience, our dignity for security, our freedom for a false sense of ownership.”— Mr. Robot, Season 2 Sound familiar? That’s basically the user agreement for every app on your phone. Meanwhile, Elliot’s internal struggle—am I real, or just a product of my trauma?—is the central tension of a society that now spends 10 hours a day glued to algorithmic content. In 2025, mental health is no longer a taboo topic, but that doesn’t mean we’ve solved anything. Like Elliot, w e toggle between radical action and total shutdown. We’re more connected and more isolated than ever. And for all our talk of “self-care,” we still cry at the grocery store and call it therapy. “I’m good at reading people. My secret? I look for the worst in them.”— Elliot Alderson, Season 1 Every politician, CEO, and influencer is trying to convince us they’re just like us , Elliot’s honesty is extremely refreshing. He doesn’t believe in the system. He doesn’t believe in people. And yet, ironically, he tries . He wants connection. He wants justice and so do most of us. The Revolution Will Be Livestreamed... and Monetized . One of Mr. Robot ’s strongest predictions is how revolution doesn’t look like what we imagine. There are no clean-cut heroes or triumphant marches. Instead, we get masked hackers, misinformation campaigns, and unexpected consequences. What fsociety unleashes isn’t just economic collapse, it’s chaos, disillusionment, and power vacuums. “People always told me growing up that it’s never about the destination. It’s about the journey. But what if the destination is you? What if it’s always been you?”— Elliot, Season 4 It’s a deeply personal quote, but it also speaks of something larger: the idea that we are the ones we've been waiting for. We’re both the virus and the remedy. The saboteur and the builder. As we fumble through our own versions of social, political, and climate upheaval in America, Mr. Robot reminds us: real change is messy, non-linear, and often deeply personal. In 2025, revolt doesn’t seem to come with barricades, it comes with hashtags, collabs, and merch drops. The line between protest and profit has blurred. Ask Target’s shareholders! Much like Allsafe, the cybersecurity firm that cozied up to the very powers it was meant to check, survival in today’s system often means compromise. And that’s what makes Mr. Robot ’s blurry morality feel so authentic. No one gets out unscathed. Why We Need Mr. Robot Now More Than Ever—It’s Us . Rewatching Mr. Robot in 2025 isn’t just about nostalgia. It’s about recognition and reckoning. It’s about seeing how far we’ve come and how many loops we’re still trapped in. When the show ended in 2019, the world hadn’t yet seen COVID-19, the full rise of AI, or the politicization of reality itself. Now, we’re living in a time where democracy feels fragile, truth feels relative, and mental health is a public crisis. Elliot’s disorientation? It's not just his anymore—it’s ours. The final season reminds us that healing is possible and that confronting your past can set you free. The revolution might begin on the streets, but it finishes in the heart. “There was a part of me that wanted to escape this. But I know now—this is who I am.”— Elliot, Season 4 Finale In the end, Mr. Robot isn’t just about hackers, or capitalism, or even the revolution, it’s about identity; about seeing yourself clearly in a world designed to blur the lines and maybe that’s why it matters even more now. Because Mr. Robot isn’t fiction anymore. It’s us.

Ever since my daughter started her first day of day care, she was on a mission to convince us that homeschooling was the way to go. Yes, you read that right! Her passionate campaign peaked at 7 years old in the second grade. Every time she brought up her rally cry, she had this spark in her eye, like she was onto something big that we adults just didn’t get. So, after a few months of hearing her sad pleas of “Can I be homeschooled? Pleeease?” over and over, I finally started looking into it. Here are the reasons why she was so keen on homeschooling, what I learned from her persistence, and where we arrived in the great “To Homeschool or Not to Homeschool” debacle. The Appeal of Homeschool: A 7-Year-Old’s Perspective. In her younger years, she was extremely shy and is also introverted. It took her almost four months to utter a word at her first day care when she was two. Her experience before this was at home filled with circle time, flash cards, reading, arts, crafts and science projects. I created a learning environment that they enjoyed. She still remembers my made up songs that we sang at circle time. Some days I am surprised she still remembers them. I really underestimated the value of the two years she spent at home with me creating all these fond memories. I think so much of her desire to be homeschooled was based on nostalgia. I mean, how much can a young kid really know about the benefits and disadvantages of “traditional” versus “alternative” schooling, right? I also knew this wasn’t just about skipping school to stay in pajamas (though I’m sure that has some appeal, too!). I sensed the desire for homeschooling had a lot to do with wanting to avoid anxiety inducing social settings, the worst being school. The dynamics of making new friends is not her strength. She hates it. So, I sat down and asked, “Why do you want to be homeschooled so much?” Here’s what she shared: “I want more personal learning time.” Traditional schools have a set curriculum, but my child wants to learn about things she’s deeply interested in, and her list is, well, unique! For example, she fascinated by the human body (all the systems), space, and science. She has stated that she wants to be a pediatrician, paleontologist and a geologist. The idea of picking what to study on a whim excites her—and I have to admit, it sounds pretty fun! “I want more time with my family.” Yes, this made my heart melt. She was struggling to make friends and not enjoying socializing with other children, so she loves the idea of learning alongside family, exploring topics together, and sharing in each other’s growth. “School is too noisy.” The daily grind of getting ready, heading to school, sitting in classes, and coming back home exhausted her a lot. My kiddo wants to learn in a way that feels less draining and more engaging. “I get to make my own schedule.” She may not fully understand the concept of “scheduling,” but she does understand that homeschooling means a more flexible day. She’s drawn to the idea of learning in bursts, with breaks when she needs them, and tackling different activities throughout the day. “I could learn outside more.” One of her biggest dreams is to study outside in nature. Whether it’s reading books under a tree or bringing the science projects outside, my child is consumed with the idea of the world being her classroom. I considered her enthusiasm for homeschooling, and began diving deeper into the potential benefits. And I’ll admit, I was beginning to see the magic she saw. The idea of a personalized learning path, and flexibility and freedom seemed very appealing. Of course, it’s not all butterflies and sunshine. As much as the idea of homeschooling has its perks, it also brings some serious considerations: for instance, socialization concerns for a child who is already introverted and shy, the amount or responsibility that would fall on me a the primary caretaker, requiring my career to be on the back burner and the access to resources for learning. There was a lot to weigh. Again, I strongly suspected that her request this time around was because she was struggling to acclimate to her school, even a year and a half after moving. I told her that we will finish out second grade, see how she feels and then we can talk about it again. She was happy with that even though it was not the outcome she wanted. I think she was just happy I wasn’t saying no. As we got closer to the end of second grade, I noticed more confidence and more talk of friends by their names. She finally said she wanted to remain in school, because she likes her friends, and she doesn’t want to finish high school and realize “I didn’t learn all the things I needed to”—these were her exact words. Wow! I couldn’t believe my ears. I was happy to hear this, because I wasn’t ready to make the life altering decision of homeschooling her. I guess it worked out for all of us. To another year of public school!

Living in the Capital District of NY is such an amazing feeling. As a long time resident of NYC, you would think that moving to Upstate New York would involve some degree of culture shock, but it has been quite the opposite. It really brings joy to be surrounded by this level of beauty. My new community is where nature is woven into the urban fabric and creates a truly harmonious balance. It still amazes me how I can go from city to rural in less than thirty minutes. I simply love it here. For that reason, I am always looking for new places to visit. Last year on a whim, I decided to explore Peebles Island State Park in Cohoes NY. Peebles Island State Park is a 190-acre state park located at the confluence of the Mohawk and Hudson rivers in New York. I walked in by way of the Cohoes entry on Delaware Avenue Railroad Drive into what felt like a sanctuary. The island  boasts many amenities that include hiking, walking trails, fishing, designated picnic areas, parking and lighthouse visits/tours among others. The landscape is picturesque all year round, especially in the summertime. As much as there is to explore on Peebles Island, there is more to see at the north exit, where you enter into the historic town of Waterford in Saratoga County. Summer is the highlight and best time of year to explore this waterfront town. There is a weekly farmer’s market, the Waterford Tugboat Roundup, boat rides, kayaking and many more activities. The Waterford Welcome Center Waterford Waterfront For me, the real highlight was seeing the Erie Canal Lock at work. Waterford boasts the Erie Canal Lock E-2, part of a system of connecting waterways , and one of 57 locks in the New York’s canal system that has been active since 1825. It reflects a symbiotic relationship between nature and science that will leave you in awe. It is a masterful remnant of the brilliance of the minds of the past and a superb look into how resourceful human beings can be. It was worth seeing and I highly recommend visiting. Erie Canal Lock E-2 Watching Erie Canal Lock E-2 at work Since then, my family and I make several visits to Peeble Island State Park throughout the year. We love it there. What do you enjoy most about this state park? Photos: Top photo from New York State Park, Gallery from left to right: Overlook Point on Peebles Island State Park, Scenic View at Overlook Point, Second Street Bridge, Walking path along Second Street Bridge that leads to Waterford NY

Originally posted November 3, 2020 Over a year ago, I was having a conversation with a friend. During our talk, she expressed her anxiety around being unprepared for her driving road test, especially since she had only done a few sessions. In addition, she had been listening to the stories of all the people she knew who failed. I said to her verbatim, "Acknowledge their stories and experiences, but focus on yours. You lose sight when you get caught up in their failures. If you fail, you can repeat it. Fail up." These words did the job, because she instantly responded with enthusiasm, "I love that 'fail up!' Ok. I will." After our conversation, I thought about my past mistakes and how my perspective on failure affected my recovery. "Acknowledge their stories and experiences, but focus on yours." I will admit that I have a fear of failure surrounding major life changing decisions. When it comes to smaller failures I bounce back quickly. I am a glass half full kind of woman who practices the arts mindfulness and gratefulness. Here are the steps I have developed over time that have helped me through my own personal failures. Give myself time to grieve. I allowed myself to feel all the emotions that come with failure. No skipping the grieving process, otherwise, I miss valuable lessons. Take stock of the lessons taught by failure. Try to understand what happened and how any of my actions may have affected the outcome. Document it. I strongly believe in writing things down. It is easy to forget things, so documenting how a failure occurred is a great tool. It reminds me of what steps to avoid, so I don't repeat them. Forgive myself. I am my biggest and worst critic, and I am very good at giving myself an emotional smackdown. Understand, c Pick yourself up. After you've done the emotional labor needed to heal from failure, you can get back to the business of setting new goals and acting on them. “Without failures, there are no successes to celebrate.” So to everyone experiencing a failure, understand that there is success in failures. Take yourself to the next level by cultivating the attitude needed to fail up.

Scrolling through Facebook Marketplace will always be a happy place for me. It gives me an adrenaline rush that nowhere else does. I love being able to get second-hand furniture that I can give a new home and help preserve the planet in my small way. My bookmark is filled with so many items that usually include amazing mid-century modern furniture. They're honestly things I live for. As always, my choices are intentional and always have to serve a purpose. Recently, I saw a seller who had a beautiful dresser/sideboard that I liked and wanted for my bedroom. She was about fifty minutes away heading east. Everyone knows I will chase a good piece of furniture to the ends of the earth and I sure did. After having to cancel our initial arrangement for the exchange, I assumed that the item would be gone by the next week, but it wasn't. She reached out and told me it was still there and I could come get it to my surprise. I was ecstatic. I got up early that morning and asked ft I could come earlier than planned. She agreed and I was on my way out. Living in the Northeast has its perks, but on other days, it can feel like a crap show. Case in point, the tons of snow sitting on our cars after the downpour from the night before. In freezing temperatures, I got the snow off and started my journey playing one of my favorite artists Lucky From having to get snow off the car and driving an hour away between two states—yes, the Capital Region of NY is almost directly west of the borders of both Vermont and Massachusetts—was nothing short of an adventure. I drove between these two states and for about 15 miles, I was the only person driving east. Scary!!! Not for me.  The scenery along the way was amazing. Crossing over the Tomhannock Reservoir was truly the highlight. It was straight out of a movie with a very foggy appeal. I wish I had driven a little slower over the bridge, but it was everything. Driving through the Tibbits State Forest along State Route 7 was also very eye-catching with the many twists and curves you would expect from being in the mountains. I also caught a glimpse of an interesting store The Potter Hill Barn and made a promise to myself to stop on my way back. Hoosic Falls, Renata Poleon, 2024 I got to my location and met with the seller, an older woman. I omitted a very important fact. I hadn’t noticed that the dresser was shorter than I wanted it to be. After pondering on whether should take it or not, I decided to make the purchase. After all, I had driven that far. When loading it up, we decided to load the drawers first. As I was walking to the car, the joint between the front and side came off on two of the drawers. She was apologetic and gave me a price reduction to $20. It was a problem I could fix with some sanding and wood glue and took it anyway. On my way back, as promised, I stopped at The Potter Hill Barn and boy was I happy I did—sad for my purse though. About 30 minutes and $60 later, I was back on my way home from Hoosick Falls to the Capital Region. The Potter Hill Barn, Renata Poleon, 2024 Small Town, Renata Poleon, 2024 As soon as I got home, I wiped this baby down, pulled, sanded the crevices, pulled out the wood glue, and got to work. Let’s just say, it was well worth it. I love the outcome. Until my next adventure, happy hunting to you. (Feature photo Bedroom Decor, Renata Poleon, 2024)