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One Word For One Year: Delight

If you saw me right now, you would find me in a midtown hotel room in Quito nestled amidst a sea of concrete. I am wearing one of those white hotel robes, sitting on a giant bed with soft pillows. The January temperature outside is 60 degrees, and the sunshine pours in through all the windows. It's quiet, as much as the double pane keeps the traffic noise from coming in, but my four year old is at my parent's house, so I might as well be laying in a graveyard, I could hear a pin drop.
If this sounds delightful, indulgent even, it's because it is. We could discuss the fact that my parents live 6,000 miles away from us and they relish the time they have with their only grandchild. We could talk about how hard Tim and I work, and this is a deserved vacation. All of it would be true, but I am not about to justify my delight, certain things are because we co-create them into being, end of story.
Not sold? I'm not surprised. Let's take a walk back through memory lane, s…

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