Just as the ancient Romans marked the path with stones to show travelers how far they’ve journeyed, I peppered my path with personal markers and reminders of how far I’ve walked this week.
At the start of this week I wrote “mark the milestones” in my planner and sat with the different ways I’ve been measuring time. The first half of 2024 was measured by Taj’s hospitalization and then biweekly outpatient infusions in the oncology treatment room.
More recently I’ve measured time in how many shifts I’ve worked at my new job, counting through the 10 shadow shifts required before being on my own as a Mental Health Technician at a residential treatment facility for adolescents with eating disorders.
If this week was a hiking trail I would have passed the most beautiful stones, carefully painted with iridescent colors — sparkling in the sun.
One stone for a major moment in Taj’s treatment
Another for my first solo shift as an MHT
Another for a big breakthrough in therapy
I imagine decorating my milestones the same way that the residents I work with paint legacy stones for the garden before they discharge. Hopeful images and words on a rock, left for future residents to see.
Sometimes I think of my planner as my milestone keeper, too. Creating little drawings or sun bubbles around the big moments. So that, when I’m reflecting on my life and flipping through the years I can pause, giving my future self the gift of remembering what otherwise might have been forgotten.

Summer is always busy, and adjusting to a new schedule has made time feel like it’s moving faster than ever. The challenge when things get this busy is to keep acknowledging the milestones. Sometimes the acknowledgements look like big celebrations with a date night or an intention meal. And when there is less time, it can look like little intentional acts — like proposing a toast, or taking a slow stroll around the block or pausing to sit down with watercolors.
I want to remember the milestones passed this week. I want to remember Taj and I counting down the last milliliters of Eculizumab in the Serenity treatment room. I want to remember that midnight drive home in the rain, proud of how far I’ve come in my first month of this new job. I want to remember how good it has felt to honor my AuDHD diagnosis as I change the way I approach work and a career.
Similar to flipping through a photo album, I show you my stones. All these moments that can live in my own personal garden. A garden I can walk others through, too — deepening the remembering with each reiteration of the story.
May you mark your milestones too.
May you find ways to capture the big moments, creating time capsules for future you to revisit.
You are deserving of remembering how far you’ve walked.
With Love,
Jenna
Think of some of your recent milestones. If you were to paint a rock to mark that moment on the path of your life, what would it look like? What about that milestone do you want to remember? What colors would you use? What imagery or words feel aligned?
Take some time to sketch it out! Or, if you’re feeling up for an adventure go find a rock and create an actual milestone for the occasion! Place it somewhere special you’ll see often as a gentle reminder.
I read "10 shadow shifts" as, like, a deeply symbolic thing at first -- 10 shadow shifts like treks through the underworld