A few months ago, I was falling in love. I didn't realize a person could be out of practice when it came to feeling love, but I was. I felt vulnerable, exposed, and doubtful. Somewhere around Valentine's Day, it wasn't meant to be. After hours of conversation and lengthy text messages, we came to the conclusion that we were in different places and that was the end. But I was already falling.

I imagine falling comes from the high of love and connection with another person. In the ideal scenario, two people land in the same place without injury, only warm feelings. Without the other person, you hit pavement -- a rude awakening. Like when you are drifting off to sleep and get that sudden jolt to wake up.

Instead, to cushion my fall, I fell in love with the next closest thing -- the (post-grad) life I was building.

I could say I fell for my job because it is natural and accessible to pour energy into work after a relationship ends, but that wasn't the only piece that made me love and appreciate waking up in the morning and getting on with the day. My job was a large chunk of where my love went -- working with some of the most curious people, being a part of a flexible and innovative community, and learning new information and skills. Although I am not aiming to be a workaholic, it does have its perks and rewards when the going gets tough.

I also fell for the time I spent in yoga classes with funny and authentic teachers, the meals and moments I shared with friends, the quiet when I was alone and found myself reading and writing, the errands I checked off my to-do list (side note: dry cleaning feels very adult), meal prep for the week, and the discoveries I found in pockets of New York (parks and public spaces).

There is so much out there to do, and I wanted to get my fill of it with or without a partner. I say fall in love because I was infatuated with every hour of my every day. From work all day to exercise to trying new restaurants to time spent experiencing a museum to talking on the phone with my mom, I wasn't only fulfilling the iconic "work/life balance" concept, I was integrating and prioritizing the most meaningful parts of my life. I chose what served me and what didn't.

Instead of balance, which looks more like juggling and giving every part of life equal attention, I was integrating. Pieces of my life came in different shapes and sizes and took up space in my heart. Leaving behind falling in love with a person gave me the opportunity to be intentional, thoughtful, and decisive about what is a part of my life and what isn't.

When I tell life to turn right, it will likely overrule me and go in a different direction -- left, straight, or serpentine. The picture of my life only becomes clear after all is said and done. I don't make it or control it no matter how hard I try to plan and schedule.

I couldn't stop myself from falling, but I could harness and redirect the energy that came from love and use it elsewhere.