Eat, Pray, Love

I have never read the book Eat, Pray, Love.  I understand basically how it goes: girl gets divorced and travels around for a year (paid for by her publisher) and “finds herself” by going to Italy and nurturing her physical self, then to India to discover her spiritual self, and then to Indonesia where she meets the man of her dreams. It was immortalized in a film by Julia Roberts. I have never seen the film either. I just want to go on the record to say that I am not trying to recreate a novel that I haven’t read or a movie that I haven’t seen.  But I have changed my plans and am going to Nepal.

In what has been a series of events from when I first started planning my sabbatical to now, life has just unfolded and happened the way it has happened. I have no regrets in anything I have done. Life is an adventure and best savored fresh and hot in the moment. Whether I enjoyed the taste of it or not, it all was meant to be experienced and learning happened.  And with that said, it is time to stop traveling and take a break for a little while.

So I am going to meet my friend Matt in Kathmandu on Sunday morning and head to Pokhara.  I am not sure what he has planned for me and I am sure that whatever it is, it will make a good story and probably end up with me jumping off something while screaming my fool head off or ending up in a Nepalese jail somewhere. Whatever the challenge is, when Matt asks me if I want to do it, my answer is going to be yes, with no fanfare, I am just going to jump.  What I hope to gain from this change of plans is a chance to see what my friend loves about Nepal and its people.  I hope to blog about it and take wonderful pictures to capture a world that, for one of the people I respect most in life, gives him tremendous personal joy and meaning.

Another hidden agenda item for me that has made me give up my original goal of heading to Andalucía is that I want to go to a yoga/meditation workshop in Nepal. Not because of any Eat, Pray, Love ideas. I am searching for inner peace and the ability to let go of resentments. I have had some success at that in the past, mediation and yoga have kept me centered throughout my divorce and the subsequent abuse and manipulation by my therapist.  But for some reason, since this spring when I gave up my apartment, I have struggled to maintain any kind of consistent practice.  Maybe because of the inconsistency in living arrangements or the moving around from place to place.  But that, along with all the other life upheavals in the past few months, has been effecting my physical and emotional well-being. It has been too much all at once.  I am ready to change that.  I am hoping to increase my knowledge of meditation and yoga practice so that I can manage more effectively on my own regardless of where I am or what life brings me.

So, this is my last full day in my beautiful sunny apartment in central Madrid.  What a beautiful, fascinating and lovely place. I highly recommend it as a place to spend a lovely, relaxing vacation.  I debated what to do today and finally I decided… nothing.  I am going to get the big camera out walk around and take photographs.  This afternoon, I am going to find some lovely tapas bar and have my last gorge on amazing ham, seafood, and Spanish wine. Then tomorrow I am going to move to a hotel near the airport for my early morning flight on Friday to Nepal.

When I get back from Nepal, I will spend 4 lovely days in Barcelona before flying back to North Carolina to spend Thanksgiving with my son and daughter-in-law and the two most amazingly intelligent and beautiful granddaughters ever. Then a trip to Maine to visit with some friends from high school who I haven’t seen in 30 years (yikes!) and a visit with my wonderful Maine family before flying back to Seattle for a travel time-out.  I need to spend some time skiing with my friends, enjoying happy hours with Tony and Marisa, supervising Keri’s dissertation, laughing with Maurea, and just refilling my soul with some continuity and familiarity.

The traveling has given me clarity on where my greatest needs are.  I need to be exercising daily, meditating, doing yoga, spending time on my bike and skis which bring me joy, spending time with my friends who make me feel loved and supported, writing and reading for my research, and going back to therapy.  Yes, I said it.  I, the person who distrusts the mental health care profession more than anyone on the planet, am going back to therapy.  I realize there are some things in my life that I am ready to make peace with and that can’t happen without some help. Finding a therapist will be an interesting challenge.

Then, maybe this spring, I will be ready to travel some more.  But right now, I need a break.

It is not the change we fear, it is the unknown

Traveling by oneself is a tremendous opportunity for growth.  It is also ridiculously scary, a little lonely, yet absolutely rewarding.  I remember two weeks ago, in Seattle, I was terrified and almost paralyzed over trying to figure out how to get all my stuff in a carry-on bag and instead having to check a bag because of my bike gear.  I was scared and didn’t want to leave my friends and the safety of the known, even though I was floundering in that situation and not making any progress with moving forward in my life.  And traveling is stressful, even though it is a good thing. It is stressful even when you are traveling with a tour group, your family and friends, even just in your own country.  Traveling by yourself, in a country where you don’t speak the language, with no reservations, no hotels, not even any itinerary, with no one with you to help you negotiate things adds a whole different layer of stress. What ends up happening, if you allow it to, is the stress of it can overwhelm you and suck the fun right out of what you are trying to do.  At that point, somewhere, you have to step back and just let it all go.

Two weeks ago, leaving Seattle with no plans and no agenda, I was totally stressed out.  I displaced the aggression from that stress on those around me, on the people that love me the most. We have all done it, rolled our stress onto those around us.  As we get overwhelmed and internalize, it is like a dam holding water back, when the emotional pressure gets too great, it will come out.  And it flows downhill to those relationships we know where our fear of losing them is the lowest, to the people we trust will be there and won’t leave us. Controlling the stress rollover and being open and honest with my fears and emotions is probably one of the things I could work on that would help my relationships the most.  Thankfully, most of my friends know me and know my intentions and what my fears are.  When I roll my stress onto them they come back at me in ways that relieve that stress, with humor and love. I owe them.

562331_10101391105869703_83408613_nSo here I sit, four more weeks to go. I have lost about 5 pounds from the physical activity here in Mallorca.  I am tan and rested. I am leaving Mallorca tomorrow for the unknown of Madrid. No friends around to help me figure things out or relieve my stress. I have been sitting here in a lovely coffee shop, with a view of the beach and the Mediterranean Sea, trying to make reservations while worrying about what to do with the bike gear I have and the checked bag I will be carrying around.  Shipping the bike gear back to the US from Spain is problematic because things don’t get there and it is about three times more expensive than just checking an extra bag. It isn’t worth it for the convenience of moving around the country with a lighter load.  One of the lessons I have learned from this trip is not to try to combine activities. If I come for a cycling holiday, that is all it needs to be.  Adding on 4 weeks of just casually roaming around Europe is an entirely different bag of clothes, literally.

As I head off into the unknown, I can feel the fear churning in my gut.  How will I maneuver around Madrid to get to the apartment I rented?  I have the public transportation schedule but have these bags. The place I rented is in a pedestrian only area so a cab is problematic and exorbitant. Where will I go after I leave Madrid?  How will I get there?  ARRRGGGGHHHH…..after a while, the questions just overwhelm me and it is in that overwhelmed state that I have to deal with it on my own, in a way that is constructive. That is where the real learning is happening for me. It doesn’t come from having a perfectly planned trip. The learning happens when my gut is churning with the fear of the unknown, when I have to negotiate and make decisions in the moment without just being able to rest in the comfort and safety of what I know. And it isn’t easy. It is however, priceless.

When I started reflecting on that, I realized that in Mallorca, I negotiated public transportation in Spanish just fine.  Only once did I get off the bus at the wrong stop.  When I did and realized it, I took it as a sign that I needed to see what that unexpected neighborhood had to offer.  I ended up in a neighborhood with no English speakers and had to order my lunch in Spanish. I had a lovely lunch, then I got on the bus again and got off at the right stop.  No problem.  So what am I worrying about now?  The reality is there is no reason to worry.  Ultimately, I am going to drag my backpack and my checked bag onto the public transportation system in Madrid and hope I don’t get robbed.  Simple.  I either will make it to where I am trying to go or I will make it somewhere else.  Either I will have all my belongings with me or I won’t.  That is the part that makes it an adventure.

Transition times of our lives are rough. Everyone thinks that making a change is scary.  It isn’t the change, it is the unknown that the change will bring.  In order to get to the place where the fear isn’t taking over, I have to embrace the very unknown that is the source of the fear. Which means letting go of worry and expectations for what might happen.  What will happen will happen. Worrying about it just takes away from the joy I get to experience right now.

Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing. ~Helen Keller

Majorca bound

Here I sit at my gate for my final flight to Spain.  I didn’t think I was going to be able to do it.  Flying across the Atlantic, being in a German airport, it was just a few weeks ago that I did both of those things and cried most of the way. Here I am again. It brought back the waves of emotion I felt after leaving Africa.

A lot of people haven’t been able to understand what my problem has been. And I get it, they look at me as having this fabulous holiday to play. Well let me tell you, as someone who has suffered from and been able to manage PTSD symptoms for most of her life, any traumatic event fires all my emotional neurons. And before my readers poo poo what I am saying, everyone has experienced it.  It is that day of getting emotional and being an ass to everyone before you realize that it was the anniversary date of your partner telling you that she/he wanted a divorce, and when you realized it, you went AH HA…that is why I have been being such an ass. You didn’t even realize the latent emotions that were affecting you or why you couldn’t control them. It is that feeling of remembering exactly where you were and how you felt, even what the weather was like on 9-11-2001.  Or the emotions that are brought on from a smell from childhood, maybe the pumpkin cookies your mom used to make. Or maybe it is fall leaves blowing across a road that triggers it.

If we think that memories of things don’t trigger emotions and that sometimes we don’t realize what is happening, then we are fooling ourselves, because being human means that it is has happened to you at some time.  People who have long term PTSD symptoms feel that feeling magnified and intensified many times over and every traumatic event is a trigger.  We learn to deal, sometimes we deal with things better than others  Having support is key even when we don’t want to tell someone what is wrong (thanks Matt for messaging me all the way from Nepal when I was on the way to the airport.  You are the best.).  And what really sucks is telling people what is wrong and no one understanding how you feel.  They just wondered why I wasn’t all excited for the great adventure.

So I have been struggling. I know I am going to have a wonderful experience in Spain, but I didn’t want to get on that plane. Every fiber of my being was shouting at me to turn around and find a safe place to hide. But here I am. I am looking forward to riding tomorrow and getting all my emotion out in pushing myself physically on a bike tomorrow. I am nervous about riding a bike that isn’t mine, I have only rode steel and this is a carbon fiber bike.  I am not sure what to expect. But regardless…I am going to ride the hell out of that bike.

So that was just an update.  Hopefully by tomorrow or at least by Wednesday, I will have beautiful pictures from Majorca.  Cheers everyone. I am doing it, even though it is very challenging.  I am here, I am flying on planes and I will have some epic bike rides.  One day at a time, one second at a time.

What’s life without the crazy? ~OEH

P1060122I went on a bike ride the other day with a friend.  After being off the bike since July except for a couple of rides, I have lost all my base fitness that I had this spring so I am fat, slow, and can’t climb for anything.  Tomorrow, I am leaving for Spain to ride with a bunch of men who either ride all the time or are professional cyclists. I am going to get my ass handed to me every day for 12 days.  And I paid to do it.  What to hell was I thinking?

After I finish cycling, I am spending the next 3 weeks going somewhere in Spain, but I am not sure where yet.  I am basically just going to figure it out as I go. For the past two days, I have been trying to squish my clothes in a carry-on so I won’t have to check a bag, but my cycling gear takes up too much room.  I have been a basket case of stress over it. I have 4 hours until my friend Marisa comes to pick me up to figure it out because I have to store the stuff that I am not taking with me.  So basically, I am taking the two bags that I have been complaining about all summer and trying to cull it down to half the size of either one of them. And that will be all the gear and the clothes I have for 5 weeks in Spain.  Yeah.  I am pretty sure I have totally lost my mind.  But, as my friend reminded me of recently, what is life without the crazy?

I like crazy.  It makes people interesting.  All of my friends are a touch crazy.  If they weren’t, I wouldn’t hang around them.  They have passion, take risks, fail and try again.  They are open, vulnerable, and courageous. They care about the world around them and the people in it. When having a conversation about being 50 years old and trying to establish an identity apart from wife/mother/teacher, a friend asked me a profound question: Who do you want to be?  My answer is: I want to be like them.

P1060183I want to be the person who rides her bike to work everyday, regardless of weather, because it is good for my mind, body and the environment.  I want to be the badass skier who will ski through trees, down chutes, thigh deep in powder and laugh the whole time I am doing it. I want to be the person that can jump of a cliff with a paragliding wing and fly, sailing up with thermals, looking down in wonder on the world below.  I want to be the person who will climb up a rock face and get stuck at a hard part and, instead of giving up, hang in the harness until I see the route and climb it.  I want to be the person that isn’t afraid to push my body in physical performance. I want to be a woman who looks out a nature and never takes for granted the beauty I see all around me, regardless of where I am. And I want to be able to take a decent photograph someday.

I want to be the person who can sit and listen to another’s pain without trying to fix it, to just be present for people.  I want to have a home where people can come, put their feet up, rest and feel at home and welcomed. It is funny, I cooked for Matt‘s roommates the other day.  I haven’t cooked like that in a while.  They invited their friends over, there was all this beautiful food sitting on the table, bottles of good Spanish wine, and amazing conversation.  Eating and making food is such a social activity.  Having lived by myself for so long now, eating by myself, I just appreciate those moments to feel part of a community, to listen to great conversation and ideas from creative and intelligent people, and to laugh.

So off I go to Spain.  My hope is to push the boundaries of my physical performance cycling. Then to traipse around the country meeting people, hearing their stories, laughing, sharing tapas, and drinking some fine Spanish wine.  And hopefully, in all of that, taking some beautiful photos.

my pictureThere is no great lesson in this post. Aristotle said, “We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit”. What I am realizing through writing this is, regardless of checked bags or carry-on, all the things I am doing are consistent with the person I want be.  In order to establish an identity, I have to do behaviors that actually are consistent with the talk.  Who do I want to be?  I am her.

“It is easier to live through someone else than to complete yourself. The freedom to lead and plan your own life is frightening if you have never faced it before. It is frightening when a woman finally realizes that there is no answer to the question ‘who am I’ except the voice inside herself.” ― Betty Friedan

The Gift

On Monday, I will be 50 years old. It is one of those milestone birthdays that, until yesterday, was bothering me a bit. Yesterday, I got it all sorted out in my mind. Everyone keeps asking me lots of questions like where am I staying, what am I going to do now, what I want for a present for my birthday, and what I want to do on my birthday. I hope this post will answer those questions.

Sometimes, life is pretty incredible. When I got home from Whistler, I sent a message to my friend Matt‘s girlfriend Amanda about needing my car. I didn’t know what I was going to do, I just knew that the car is all I have left. I was going to get in it and just start driving. That isn’t what I wanted to do, I just didn’t know anything else to do. Since Matt was in South America indefinitely, I didn’t expect to see him. Then Amanda said the most amazing thing. She said, “I am picking Matt up a the airport at 10 pm tonight, I know he has been thinking about you and wants to see you”. I lost it and just started crying. I hadn’t realized until that moment that what I needed more than anything else in the world was the support of my friend. It just happened that I was back at the same time that he came home for a week before he leaves again for Asia.

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Sunrise from the deck

Here is the amazing part. He picked me up when I got off my bus and we went and talked. He should have been spending time with his family, but instead he is letting me cry all over him. He had already checked with his roommates and they offered me a place to stay in this gorgeous house, with a fabulous gourmet kitchen and a great view of Seattle. They offered me comfort, compassion, and safety. They are certainly some of the most chill people I have met in Seattle. They made me feel immediately welcomed and at home. How did I get so fortunate? I have to be the most blessed person on the planet. Seriously.  I spent Wednesday reconnecting with my friends Maurea, Melinda, Deloa and Larry. They took time out of their schedules to make me feel valued and loved.

Yesterday, Matt and I went hiking up Tiger Mountain. He was going to paraglide down, I just hiked down. After a lovely hike up with time to talk to my friend, on the way down I got some solo time to think about everything. I decided to take sabbatical in very small steps. I want to finish a paper and a grant I am working on so I need two weeks in one place to work. So I am staying in Seattle until October 1 (thanks Jeff and Elle for letting me crash at your house). Then I just need a short adventure. So I am going back to the original plan and taking off for a month in Spain, cycling Mallorca getting back in time for Thanksgiving with my children. I am not planning on any other activities, just getting up every day and cycling and then enjoying the Spanish culture in the evenings. I need some time on my bike. After that, I don’t know yet and I am not going to plan anything.

On the way home from the mountain, Matt (who is still just 25 years old) was being his usual silly self. I was laughing, the sun was shining, we were just being goofy, I felt like I was kid. At that moment it hit me what a true healing gift his friendship has been to me. I have had a lot of trauma in my life. From the time I was 10 years old, I didn’t have a normal childhood. I grew up very fast and took on lots of responsibility. There was never any of that carefree playtime. Steadfastly, over the last 6 years of our friendship, through the trauma of divorce, the exploitation of my former therapist, the betrayal of a false friend, through a mountain of debt, tenure & promotion, deaths, births, marriages…all of it, Matt has loved me unconditionally. I am 25 years his senior, a female, not that athletic, and still he has dragged me on more adventures, taken the time to get to know and understand me on a level that no one else ever did. He doesn’t judge or belittle, but just truly accepts me as I am and encourages me to be my best. He teaches me how to be spontaneous, to take risks, and to just play knowing that I have the security of his love and caring as a safety net. For the first time in my whole life since I was 10 years old, yesterday, I felt healed and whole. So for my birthday, I have already received my gift.

sunset1

Sunset overlooking the Olympic Mountains and Queen Anne

I don’t need physical gifts, I don’t even have a house. The gift I get from all the people in my life is the gift of their love and acceptance. What more do I need? I have so many amazing friends that I am rich beyond measure and that can never be measured in physical things. Life is short and sweet. I am entering the sunset of my life, the last 30 years. I believe our lives and the legacy we leave behind will be known by the love we have shared during our time on this planet.

I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel. ~Maya Angelou

P.S. This seems like a good post for a Stevie Nicks song.  

A country with a soul

Today was one of those perfect Northern African days.  It has been the rainy season here so it has rained every day. Not just Seattle drizzle rain, but a true soaking deluge kind of rain.  Every…single…day.  It makes the poorly built and incomplete roads into quagmires of mud, potholes, and huge puddles.  The rainy season is coming to an end and the weather should begin to be perfect like it was today, mid 70 F and sunny with no humidity.IMG_1529

IMG_1527I was going to post earlier, but each time got my post finished, the power went out so I gave up and went for a walk in the village near my apartment with my friend Jen.  What I love most about this place are the Ethiopian people.  They show amazing resiliency, courage, and an absolute undefeatable spirit.  This spirit is what helped them rout every attempt by Europeans to colonize them.  They are a proud people and they love their country.

IMG_1583Every morning, I go running.  Ethiopian runners are a source of national pride.   The route I run takes me on a road where many people run each morning.  Today I actually saw a group exercising in the median of the road.  While I am running, the Ethiopians will cheer me on. They call out “good job”, like I am doing something great, when all I am doing is jogging for exercise.  There is one part of my run that takes me parallel to a government housing project.  Each day a little boy, maybe 10 years old, comes out and jogs with me down the road, grinning from ear to ear. He is adorable.  He says good morning to me and then says “sport”.  When he leaves me he said Ciao and I know I will see him tomorrow.  You can tell he is proud of Ethiopia’s tradition of running.

IMG_1555Even on our walk to the village, the people smile and say hello or salam.  The kids gather and walk with us, wanting us to take their picture.  Women invite us for coffee. What I have realized from spending time with Ethiopians of all ages is that it is their culture to care about human beings. They take their time, they listen to you. They FEEL, they truly feel compassion with their hearts, and it isn’t just superficial bull.  Ethiopia is a country with a soul.

PS.  Between writing and posting, Ethiopia just won a soccer match against Central African Republic and for the first time, qualified for the World Cup.  It is partying and chaos on the street.  What a wonderful celebration of national pride.

These aren’t filtered yet, I haven’t had time to go through them, but they are the ones I took today http://sdrv.ms/19u2kms

A Birth, A Death, and a Wedding

Yesterday was a day of a lot of shifting emotions, not for me, but for my son.  One of his best friends became a new father, another best friend died unexpectedly, and his wife’s best friend got married…all of which happened in the same day.  I have empathy for him and my daughter-in-law. They are dealing with the up and down emotions of balancing two joyous events with a tragic one and trying to be happy for their friends while mourning the death of the other.  Life doesn’t happen when it is convenient. Yesterday for my son, daughter-in-law and all their friends, life was divided by zero.

I sit here and listen to my son and his wife process their grief by telling stories of their friend and sharing pictures with their social group.  I am reminded that our lives consist of our stories.  They don’t consist of how much money we have, what things we own, or even what our jobs are.  Our lives are about our experiences.  At the end, the people who we have touched will tell our stories and share our photos. It is our legacy and reminds me to always treat people well. Life is about caring about other human beings. The most important gift we can give another person is the gift of our time.

“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” ~Maya Angelou

“To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and to endure the betrayal of false friends. To appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to know that even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

It is all about perspective…

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One morning when I was newly single and still very emotionally fragile, I was walking in Seattle’s Capitol Hill neighborhood in search of breakfast early on a sunny Sunday morning.  It was one of those rare mornings after a bad breakup that I was optimistic about being able to move on and carve a new life out for myself. A smile on my face, feeling confident, healthy and beautiful, curly red hair all askew, strolling down the street and all of a sudden, a man gave me the best spontaneous complement I have ever had.  He said  “top of the morning to you.  Wow, the redder the hair, the hotter the woman.”  It was unfortunate that he happened to be jumping out of a dumpster at the time and wearing a woman’s skirt and a pair of black pantyhose with a run in them, but hey, at that point in my life I was going to be thankful for a complement wherever I could get it. It is really just a matter of perspective.

I was reminded again this week that all my “realities” of life are a matter of perspective.  The lens I am looking through, colored by my experiences, beliefs and emotion, distorts reality as I see it.  Every single human being on the planet has a distorted view of their reality. It is only through communication that we can understand how others are seeing the same situation and realize the fallacies in our own perception of events. That is why communication is imperative in misunderstandings.  If we refuse to communicate, we can never understand any but our own distorted reality of things.

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Pure joy

My reality was distorted enough that I was having a pity party earlier this week.  I am staying with my son and his wife, enjoying their company and the pure joy that radiates from my two beautiful granddaughters.  Given that scenario, the true reality is, there is absolutely no reason I should have been feeling sorry for myself, but I was.  My reality was colored by the fact that my son lives in my former home and every time I visit it brings back memories of my marriage.  Added to the emotion of that was an unexpected visit from my ex, who is happily ensconced in a new relationship and I was just flooded with the “all that could have been, all that isn’t now” perspective instead of seeing the reality that is before me.  After a virtual slap from my friend Jonathan, I decided enough was enough of that.  I needed a big perspective shift to remind myself that my life is my own.  I am not in competition with my ex.  I am happy that he is doing well. That was the end of that whole line of thought.  That was perspective shift #1.

My reality has also been distorted by not having a place to call my own or any personal space.  It makes me cranky.  Although I am an extroverted person, I need time to myself to recharge. This summer, even though I have had great friends to rely on that have taken me into their homes, having no space that is my own has played havoc with my whole emotional system. By emotional system, I am referring to more than just feelings.  I am speaking of the hard-wired physiological, psychological and social mechanisms that human beings have evolved as a matter of survival within a family unit. Our emotional system includes the internal and external interactions and reactions associated with our basic human needs for food, water, sleep, shelter, territory, protection from harm, mating, and nurturing of young.

Living on the road and off the charity of others after a lifetime of having a home of my own, when I was always the person who others turned to for help, has definitely been a challenge for me. There have been many times that I didn’t think I was going to make it, that I was ready to go back to Seattle and start looking for an apartment. But with each challenge I have faced and overcome, I have grown emotionally stronger.  I am learning to rely on people and to listen to my body’s needs and to convey those needs to others.

One of the hardest things I have ever done is to tell my children that I was going to get a hotel room this week.  It has nothing to do with them and certainly nothing to do with my beautiful granddaughters. I would spend every possible minute with them.  But I have realized that I have to take care of myself too or I won’t be any good to anyone.  What I need right now, on this last week before I head to Africa, is some time to myself where I can go through my things once again and do a last packing. I need to have a place to spread out all my stuff and pack up the few things that I have with me that are staying in the States while organizing and purchasing enough supplies for my classroom and my personal life (shampoo, mosquito net, etc) that will last me until I get back to the States during the holidays.  Unfortunately, I can’t do that with my beautiful children and grandchildren around because I love them so much I just want to focus on them when I am with them.  I need a few days to focus on myself to get all those last minute things done.

So I have been stressing all week until I came clean and admitted to my children what I need.  As I would expect from them, they are wonderful and they understand.  Why did I ever think they wouldn’t? I really have the most amazing children ever. Telling them gave me the perspective shift that I don’t always have to fix everything for them, that I can rely on them to help me also. It made me realize that I can tell them about being scared and unsure of myself as I embark on this journey.  I can tell them how much I am going to miss them and how worried I am to be leaving them.

The truth is I wonder if I have made the right choice and whether I have what it takes to do the job I am being asked to do. Do I have what it takes to live in a place that is so different from everything I have ever known?  Am I a good enough teacher to teach math in a place where many of my students don’t speak English while I speak no Amharic? Will I have the courage to explore this new country I am going to or will I stay in the safety of the school area I will teach in?

My perspective right now is being colored by my fears and insecurities about where my life is heading in the next year.  I need my family and friends to help me with that perspective shift, this week more than any other. The closer the time comes for leaving the more excited I get and at the same time, the more insecure I get.  I think that is probably a very normal and human reaction.  I just have to breathe, stay present, and be aware and remember to keep communicating to keep a good grasp on true reality not just the reality colored by my experiences and emotions. It really is a matter of perspective.

First Class

I fly often enough to be in premier class. That means that I get upgraded from coach to first class whenever there is an open seat but I only pay coach fares.  Out of the last 20 legs of trips I have taken, I have been upgraded 15 times. I like boarding early, comfy seats, and larger overhead bins, but the rest of the first class experience feels odd to me.   One thing that always surprises me is how quickly the crew is there to meet your needs. That level of service is one huge difference between first class and coach.  One of my friends calls first class “princess class”.  I guess I am not used to a level of service that makes me feel like a princess.

I also have first class friends. Through their words, time, and care, they make me believe I have value to them.  They consistently demonstrate that they believe I am worthy of love and belonging even with all my imperfections.  They go on vacation with me, support me emotionally when I have difficult issues to deal with, come to my rescue when I have done something foolish, and believe that I can accomplish great things.  But the real key is that they are simply there for me.  I am convinced that is what it takes to be a first class friend, just being there for people.

I was thinking that everyone should feel treated like they are first class by someone.  Everyone should have someone who is there for them, who meets their needs on some level.  But as I allowed myself to think through it, I realized that what I need (and maybe everyone does) is rather than focus on how others treat me, I have to treat myself like I am first class and be that person who is there for  me. I should meet my own needs first before I expend all my energy on others.

When I was newly single and trying to redefine my life, I instituted “Friday night date night for one”. I would come home from work, get something special to make for dinner (including dessert) and a nice bottle of wine.  I would put some music on, light candles, have a lovely meal and then dance around the living room by myself.  I would treat myself like first class all the way on Friday nights.  But it was always something “extra”.

Unfortunately, the first class treatment never transferred beyond Friday night.   I am not sure why.  I guess I got busy with life, trying to be a first class mother, grandmother, colleague, friend, and there just wasn’t any time to treat myself the same way. Maybe I didn’t think I deserved the same treatment I gave everyone else.  Whatever the reason, I think that is something I need to change.  The next time I am cutting corners on self-care and not striving to meet my own needs before the needs of others, I need to remind myself to upgrade to first class.   I need to be first to recognize my value and to demonstrate that I am worthy of love and belonging.  I am worthy of being treated as first class.

Today as I sit in my third airport on the way home to visit my kids and granddaughters, when I have only had 2 hours sleep, I realize I am exhausted and without patience.  It might be time to practice some of that first class treatment right now.

Loons, Ladders, and Funny Fish

tony and robinMy friend Tony is ending his sabbatical year as I am starting mine. We decided to have one last hurrah together and go on vacation.  Since I am leaving for Africa in two weeks and wanted to visit my extended family, Tony came to visit them with me.  It has been quite an adventure hiking and kayaking with no internet or cell service at a lakeside cabin deep in the woods of Maine.

One of the things I love the most when I am visiting Maine is the sound of loons.  Their haunting call has affected me ever since I was little girl.  There is something so poignant and ethereal about the sound that it calls to the most unreachable places in my soul. It always makes me stop and reflect, to slow down and consider what is important in life.  There is a loon that is living near my brother’s cabin that believes the local float plane is another loon and a threat to his well-being.  So every day, when this particular float plane goes out, the loon will charge toward it in an attempt to get it to go away.  So far, the loon hasn’t been successful. When loons feel threatened, either for themselves or their family, they definitely make a ruckus and will do everything they can to fight for survival, including charging at float planes.  The phrase “crazy as a loon” comes from their erratic behavior as they ward off potential threats to their well-being.  In that, maybe they aren’t so crazy after all.   Protecting ourselves and the ones we love is the nature of all beings and many of our choices for survival stem from those very basic instincts.

Our vacation hasn’t just been filled with sleepy little Maine towns, hiking, kayaking, and loon calls. It has also been fraught with danger in the most unexpected places, like inside the cabin.  I have been sleeping in the loft.  Years ago, the permanent ladder that was constructed for the loft was taken down when the loft was closed in with a ceiling.  My brother and sister-in-law took out the ceiling and reverted the space back to a loft.  The original loft ladder is no longer there, so my brother uses a regular step-ladder.   Unfortunately, that ladder is about a foot and a half short of the actual loft floor.  Going up isn’t so bad, but the descent can be treacherous as I found out yesterday morning when I came down with one hand full of a computer and an iPad and only had one hand on the ladder.  Sure enough, one rung from the top, the ladder tips to the left as my body goes to the right and I land on the floor after bruising several extremities.  Tony, in moment of deep concern for my well-being, says “well at least you landed on your butt so didn’t hurt anything serious”.    This morning, my brother hung a sign on the ladder saying “you must be this tall to operate”…haha, very funny guys… I swear between Tony and my brother Rod picking on me, I will be “crazy as a loon” by next week.   I can’t blame anyone but myself for the ladder however.  I know better than to come down ladder holding an armful of stuff in my hands.

The other big event that happened yesterday was visiting my mother who lives in an assisted living facility that actually was repurposed from the old high school in the town where I grew up.  Just walking into that building brought back all the memories of that time in my life and of all the really bad things I did when I was in high school. It felt almost like being assaulted with memories of things I wished I didn’t ever have to remember.

As I was lying in bed last night thinking about all that, my sister-in-law showed me this funny fish that lights up with dots on the inside. It is great night light, very unique and original, just like my sister-in-law herself.  I loved it.  My brother and sister-in-law are two people who are happy and content with the choices they have made for their lives. They love where they live and are very aware of the world around them and the people in it.  I have met so many people in life that are unhappy with their choices.   People who constantly complain about where they live, what they do, who they are with…nothing is ever right for them.  At times, I have been like that myself.  I tend to be unhappy when I think that things have “happened” to me without my having any choice, when I want to blame my misfortune on others without taking personal responsibility for my own actions.   I am happy when I believe I have  power in my choices and own up to my responsibility for the decisions I make, good and bad.   All of those decisions got me to where I am at this moment.  If I don’t like where I am, if I am not happy with my relationships, job, city I live…it is in my power to change it.