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Lesson One: The ride doesn’t start until you are ready for it to be over

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As I start on the transition back from sabbatical, I want to reflect a little on the lessons I have learned through this year and then I will finish this blog in September

The kick-off event for sabbatical last year was a 24 hour bike ride to raise money for cancer research and patient support.  This morning, one year and one lifetime later, I find myself again in Indianapolis riding with my friends from Team Collin.  I am a different person.  Sabbatical has change me profoundly.

P1100139I went for a bike ride the other day. I had planned to ride about 40 miles, but it was a beautiful sunny day so I struck out down an unfamiliar route and ended up going about 50 miles and then decided I was tired and would take the bus the rest of the way home. So I was sitting on the bus bench, eating the last snack that I had brought with me when I realized I didn’t have my wallet so I had no money or my bus pass. I was 25 miles from home. I probably could have talked the bus driver into letting me get on the bus but instead, I put my helmet back on and got back on the bike because one of the first lessons I learned on sabbatical is that the real ride doesn’t start until that moment when I am ready for it to be over.

I first learned this lesson emotionally when I gave up all my possessions last year and left Seattle. I was almost paralyzed by fear and wishing I had never decided to go on this crazy adventure. Facing the fear of traveling alone, meeting people who I didn’t know in countries where I didn’t speak the language, travelling with no plans and no reservations, no safety net when something happened, having to make decisions on the fly not knowing if the outcome would be positive or not, I just wanted the ride to end. I wanted to stay home in the safety of the apartment I had lived for the last 3 years. The reality was, I was in a holding pattern, stagnating personally and professionally and needed to make a huge change. That change truly began when I let myself face the challenges, pushed myself physically, intellectually and emotionally further than I ever thought I could go in my life. In the words of the great TerryB, “It is easier to stay in the dysfunction you are in than it is to do the work needed to have the life you want.”   Changes won’t come by just doing the same thing you have been doing over and over and expecting a different result. They happen when you move into the discomfort.

P1100060Physically, intellectually, and emotionally, growth and learning happen when people are pushed out of their comfort zone. There is new research that says that physically, if you do the same exercise at the same intensity without varying it that at some point, your body stops responding. You won’t lose ground on your fitness but you won’t gain it either. As I teacher, I have always known from my own learning and by watching my students struggle that intellectual learning is hard work. Think back to your biggest life lessons, did you learn them because you did something perfectly or because you had to struggle through difficulty? Our greatest challenges give us our biggest lessons. Learning isn’t for the faint of heart. And emotional growth may be the hardest of all. We only grow emotionally when we are pushed beyond the limits of what we thought we could endure.

Seven years ago, I was pushed out of my emotional comfort zone when the man I married and loved with all my heart walked out on me without warning. I was pushed out of my comfort zone again when my father and sister died. And then my when my therapist, who was helping me through all of that, entered into an inappropriate relationship with me. Those situations pushed me to the brink of emotional collapse. However, those events also were the catalysts of the most profound transformation of my life. I wouldn’t wish for them to happen again, but I will not regret where they have brought me.

They call events like that life-altering. The reason for that name is because they actually alter your life (yeah I know that conclusion wasn’t rocket science). The event where you do the same thing every day for 25 years or respond the same way every time you have a conflict isn’t “life-altering”. There are so many people who I listen to who tell me they want to make a change in their lives, they aren’t happy with their circumstances….they aren’t happy in their marriage, with their job, the direction their life is going, etc. The way to change that is simple and yet, at the same time, extraordinarily difficult. If you want to make a change in your life, the only way to do it is to create your life-altering moment. There is no other way. It is at that point of change, that point of discomfort that you are ready for whatever is bothering you in your life to be over, that moment when you are ready for the ride to be over…. that is the moment where the real ride and the hard work begins.

My sabbatical lesson and take-away is that I have learned to appreciate that emotional discomfort that comes in difficult and challenging situations because I know it precipitates learning and growth. That doesn’t mean I like it, but I understand what is about to happen, change is going to occur, life is being divided by zero. I might whine about it still, but the whining is just noise, it isn’t life-stalling paralysis. All of life is embraced, every moment is cherished. The places where I am struggling the most are where the real work needs to happen.

A great analogy to this: You don’t keep repaving a smoothly paved road, you fix the road with the potholes on it. It is the same with your life, you fix the parts that are broken, you don’t just stay on the same smooth path. Life gets interesting on those side roads. And if you never take them, sooner or later life will throw up a detour and you will have no choice but to be forced down the side road. You need to fix the pot holes on those side roads before they become big enough to swallow your vehicle and keep your life stuck in one place.

team collinSo this weekend, I get to hang out with my friends, ride some bikes, raise a little money to kick cancer’s ass. I am a different woman than I was when I was here a year ago. On the road of my life and the development of a new identity, I have fewer pot holes, more miles of paved smooth road, I am stronger physically, mentally, and emotionally than I have been in a very long time.

Going home…

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I am returning home indefinitely.  I am not sure where I am going next or even if I am going anywhere for awhile.  I am ready to be in one place for a time.  I want to work on my fitness, getting in shape for spring cycling and doing some skiing, and I want to work on some research and grant writing.  It is hard to do that from the road.  I have been gone from Seattle and basically homeless since May.  After 6 months, I am ready to have a consistent place to lay my head at night and a routine in my life.  So I am going home to a new place to live and a new attitude for how to live my life.

I have learned so much over the past 6 months. I have learned about people and the world around me, but mostly, I have learned about myself. I have learned where my weak spots are and where my strengths lie. I have learned about the person I want to be and the type of people I want to have in my life.

I return home a very different person than when I left. I am stronger, happier, centered, confident, and ready to take on the next third of my life …or at least, I am ready to take on tomorrow.  During my travels I have felt lonely, depressed, joyful, empowered, scared, loved, accepted, energized, amazed, sad, awed, and just about every emotion there is.  I have overcome every obstacle and pushed myself to do things that I never would have thought I was brave enough to do.  I have looked at some of the most wondrous things on the planet. I have had experiences that are so unique that they almost defy my ability to describe them.  I have experienced a complete sense of wonder about people, the planet, and about myself.

I return home proud of myself and happy with who I am.  In a world where we can be anything we want, the best thing we can choose to be is ourselves.

A few take-aways that I was musing about on my ride from Maine to Boston:

  • Traveling can be stressful and scary.  Traveling by yourself even more so.  Yet at the same time, it seems easier somehow.  I only had myself to deal with, make decisions for, and my happiness was my own responsibility.  I could make decisions on the fly, no consultation with fellow travelers necessary. I made choices and shifted gears at a moments notice.  It made me more spontaneous, carefree, and responsible for how I felt.
  • Traveling by yourself makes you feel vulnerable.  For me, someone who has always liked the opportunity to be in control with everything perfectly planned, this was really very hard.  One of the biggest things I learned is how to live in and accept each present moment and the uncontrollable nature of life.  Because I allowed myself to become vulnerable, the world became more dynamic, less static and life just happened.  What was amazing was that I didn’t fight it, I just rolled and flowed with it.  I was alive in a way that was wonderful and compelling and I want to keep that feeling with me always.  I want to remember it when I mired in research, faculty meetings, and personal drama.
  • People are the same all over the world. Their culture, politics, religion, values, etc might be different, but the basics of humanity are the same.  No matter where you go or who you meet, there is common ground in our humanness if we are willing to set aside all our judgments and just listen to each other with acceptance, tolerance, openness and love.
  • Getting pushed out of my comfort zone was scary, necessary, healthy and will become part of my everyday life.  Facing my fears, one-by-one or sometimes in multiples, is the only way to get beyond them and move forward.  I can’t avoid and pretend they don’t exist or I am mired in my troubles indefinitely.  Fear will never rule my life again. If I give in to fear, it owns me.  I want to be free.

I am sure I will have more in the future…but it is time to board a plane.

Eat, Pray, Love

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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

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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

Ginger sheep

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I see the world very differently from a bike than I do in a car.  It seems more up close and personal.  The feeling of the wind in my face, the smells, the sounds…it just allows me to appreciate wherever I am with all of my senses.  Cars tend to be isolating little worlds all unto themselves.  Scenery flies by like it is on TV.  On a bike, it is all real and raw.

coastlineFor the past 6 days, I have been on a cycling “holiday” in Majorca. I am not sure what I thought a cycling holiday would mean. Because I was unsure about riding in a new place by myself where I didn’t speak the primary language, I booked two weeks with a cycling company that advertised cycling holidays and training camps. I guess I thought they would spend a couple of days riding around with us, giving us a map and some tips on what to do or not to do to stay safe and within the bounds of local authority, some advice for coffee shops, scenic views, places to eat, etc.  I thought that they would have some organized training rides for the serious cyclists along with a more “do it yourself” version that just included suggested routes and stops for coffee/pictures.

It isn’t quite like that. There are definitely organized rides, all of which have been too difficult for me. People train for those BEFORE coming to training camp. Unfortunately, I didn’t do that.  So I have struggled a bit, felt like an abject failure at times on big climbs, felt some success at descending, and generally feel more fit today than I did 6 days ago.  5 more days to go…  The company, Stephen Roche Cycling Holidays & Training Camps, their ride leaders and management have all been very professional.  They want me to be successful and to enjoy my trip.  The problem is that as they are pushing me to “enjoy” by doing more physically on the bike, and I have felt a little pressure to perform and it has taken away from my fun of riding a bike.  What is hard is that, while I recognize how good it has been for me physically, I needed a jump start and in fact I wanted that to be part of my sabbatical plan, but it hasn’t been as good for me mentally.  Yesterday, there was a time that I hated being on a bike and all I wanted was to have it end.  My love for riding would be bad thing to trade for a little physical endurance that I could get from just hiring a private cycling coach.

Sunset

Sunset

For me, this is a holiday and what do people do on holiday?  They see beautiful places they wouldn’t have seen, they take a bunch of pictures, eat different foods, and get to talk to people from other places.  I prefer to do that from a bike, hence “cycling holiday”.  So far, I have been so into my own head of how badly I have sucked on the bike that I haven’t done any of those things.  I haven’t even collected one person’s story. I have been too self-absorbed in trying to climb hills, complaining about the bad food, and looking at the view of the wheel of the person in front of me pulling me along.

What is sad about that is that there have been some amazing people here who have fantastic stories.  I have listened to them at dinner but not engaged them in getting them to tell me the details of their stories.  I have just been content to catch bits and pieces as I have been (metaphorically) “licking my wounds” each day.  What a shame and an opportunity lost.  And that has been my problem with this training camp, for me, the cycling is second, the people are first.  But that isn’t why people come here.  They come here for the cycling first and the people second.  They might bring their spouse or mate who doesn’t cycle, but their primary purpose for coming here is to get better and increase their cycling skills.

Ginger sheep

Ginger sheep

For me the best part has been cycling around tiny country roads that are about as wide as the multi-use trail in Seattle. It definitely gets your heart started when you get passed by a car and there is another coming in the other direction on a road that is as wide as the Burke-Gilman trail.  I love cycling through the countryside and hearing the bells on the sheep as they wander through the pastures. There were even orange/red sheep (gingers)…I didn’t even know that sheep could be colors other than black or white!  Then one of our ride leaders told us it was what they dip the sheep in to keep insects at bay that makes them orange.  It was still cool seeing ginger sheep!

Baked goods

Baked goods

I love seeing the almond trees and the beautiful old Spanish homes. I bet it would be stunning in the spring when the trees are all in bloom. The small towns are amazing, tiny cobblestone streets, people chatting and doing business, lovely cafes with incredible assortments of baked goods.  Of course, most of the time I have been ready to vomit by the time we stopped for coffee so I haven’t eaten much of them, but they look delicious. There have been scenic vistas which take your breath away.

After returning yesterday, I went to a café on the beach and had a glass of wine and got my Hemingway on and wrote in my journal. I was trying to get my head back in the cycling game after being totally demoralized by my performance.  While I was there a tour bus went by filled with people about my age.  Tour buses are great, they let you see a lot of things really quickly.  But for me, they are like cars, great for transportation yet isolating little worlds of their own that let the occupants watch the world yet divorced from really being in the world. They aren’t for me. I would rather huff and puff my way up a climb at 7 kph while joggers pass me and see the world by bike.

As I was whining about my cycling performance, one of my Lounge friends, who recently had a heart attack, reminded me of something that I hope I don’t forget very often.  “Life is a gift.  Live it.” ~Don4. This day might be the only one I have left.  I should be savoring it, sucking the very marrow out of the bones of life.  That is what our time on the earth is for.

Here are some photos if you are interested

Stop being a sissy-pants

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“At times the world may seem an unfriendly and sinister place, but believe that there is much more good in it than bad.  All you have to do is look hard enough, and what might seem to be a series of unfortunate events may in fact be the first steps of a journey.”  ~Lemony Snicket

Me & The Luddite

Me & The Luddite

I love having older brothers. I am the youngest of seven siblings. I have 3 brothers and 3 sisters.  My dad remarried when I was an older teen so I also have four lovely step-sisters but I don’t know them as well.  Last week, my brother phoned me after his wife told him about my blog (my brother is a bit of a Luddite who eschews technology).  He called to be supportive and his first attempt at that was to tell me to stop being a sissy-pants.  When I started laughing, he clarified with “or I just wanted to call and make you laugh”.

I liked candles

I liked candles

My family has the best sense of humor ever.  I can’t sit in a room with them and come out with my sides not aching from laughing so hard. And laughter really is the best medicine.  I don’t know where I would be without them because through everything, I know my family is there for me.  Those roots run deep.  We have had our fights. My brothers burned my hair off when I was a little girl by making some concoction in the kitchen while they were babysitting and trying to get me to eat it by putting a candle in it.  That didn’t end so well for me.  My sister and I traded fisticuffs over the use of the bathroom in the morning before school.  But no matter how angry we might get with each other, no matter how long we go without speaking to each other, I know that at any moment if I was in trouble and really needed them, they would be there for me, to pick me up and dust me off when I get knocked down.

Youngest 5

Payback for calling me a sissy-pants.  I could have posted a much much dorkier picture

After talking with my brother awhile, he reminded me that this sabbatical was an adventure and that there was no wrong way to do it. When I told him that one of the things I was really struggling with was having nowhere that was my own, that I was tired of packing and repacking a suitcase, of not having anywhere to just feel like myself, he again told me not to be a sissy-pants. He reminded me that the challenges were what made the best stories and they are also where the deep learning happens.  He reminded me to focus on what I am learning instead of focusing only on what I am frustrated with and to write down those lessons.

I have been learning about the possessions that I truly miss and the ones that were superficial and I know I can live without once this sabbatical is over and I do have a house again.  I have been learning about what is really important in life…people and experiences.  And most importantly, I have been learning how to focus on myself and about what it really means to take care of myself since I don’t have a home to hide out in.  I have to keep myself out in the world which means I can’t afford to slack off, I have do the things that I know keep me centered, it isn’t an option anymore. This is probably the most important lesson I have needed to learn for much of my life, how to take care of myself before taking care of everyone else.  I think at the end of this year that is the biggest gift I will have from this experience.

Life now is really just me and a couple of bags of clothes.  When talking to my brother that fact hit me, not as an esoteric concept but finally in full brutal reality.  Realizing that all the other extraneous stuff of my life has been stripped away, it was one of those moments where I wanted to say “DOH, of course that would be hard”.  Once I had that epiphany, it has been a whole lot easier to accept everything and to just flow with it. It has made it easier to accept of the circumstances in which I am living, which by my own admission was my choice, I don’t want to give anyone the idea that I am blaming anyone else.  This was a choice and I haven’t been so sure it was the right one until now.  I guess I have finally reached the point where I accept that I am on an adventure, not a vacation, and it isn’t supposed to be comfortable.

My favorite quote is by Theodore Roosevelt.  It is the “Man in the Arena” quote:

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

Brene Brown, in an interview with Oprah, said there are two things you need to have to go into the arena.  You need someone to be there to pick you up and dust you off when you get your butt kicked, because you will get your butt kicked.  And the second thing is, you need absolute clarity of values.  Because if you go into the arena and you value courage, then you can choose courage or you can choose comfort but you cannot have both.  If you choose courage and you have conviction, even if you fail and get your butt kicked and get pushed to the ground in the arena, you will still know why you are there.

Family vacation

Family vacation

So today, I have both of those things.  I have family and friends who I know will be there to pick me up and dust me off when I get kicked to the ground.  And I have absolute clarity of values.  I value courage over all other virtues.  In six days, I leave to go cycling in Spain where I am sure I will get my butt kicked.  Today I say:  Bring it on.

PS:  I have spent the days since my last blog doing pretty well, getting enough sleep, eating right, exercising, spending time with friends and I am feeling much better.  Not perfect, but better.  Centered and more like my typically exuberant self.  Thanks everyone for all the kind words and support.

O Canada!

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I have been back in the states for 48 hours, staying in my old neighborhood. It is funny, I have been stuck for so long and I had blamed it on my living situation, the debt, my job, my ex, and the exploitative therapist. It took going to the other side of the world to make me realize the “stuckness” was all me and the way I perceive all those things. It is quite a revelation. I came back totally appreciative of the gray, gloomy Seattle sky, clean water, access to services, and the care and compassion of my incredible friends.

So now I am heading to Canada for a couple of days of reflection, contemplation, hiking, and friendship. I need to process all that happened in the last month. The mountains of British Columbia are the perfect setting for doing that and for helping me to decide what to do with the next year of my life. I have the beginnings of a new sabbatical plan in my head (thanks Tony!!). My goal for my weekend is to sketch out a rough idea of the next 12 months.

Pictures and reassessment on Tuesday when I return. For now…O Canada!

Next stop…Africa

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I was out running errands on Monday, planning on spending my last evening with my wonderful family, when I decided to check my flight times for the next day and lo and behold…I had the wrong day. Fortunately, I didn’t miss my flight but it sure got my adrenaline pumping to be leaving in 3 hours when I thought I still had 27 hours.  Unfortunately, it made my goodbyes to my family much shorter.  But maybe that was for the best.  I tend to let things drag on otherwise.

I have no great words of wisdom this morning.  Today is the day.  When I wake up tomorrow morning, I will be in Africa.  Although I am scared, my fear doesn’t own me.  I know that anything that I have forgotten can be taken care of once I get there.  I don’t know what to expect, I am probably the most unprepared traveler on the planet.  For someone who has always been a planner, that should be freaking me out.  But for whatever reason, it isn’t.

I will have some pictures of my new home on my next post.  I am not sure when that will be, but I promise it will have pictures. Let the journey begin…

A journey is a person in itself; no two are alike. And all plans, safeguards, policing, and coercion are fruitless. We find that after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us. ~John Steinbeck

The Journey of 1000 miles…

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Sometimes, I think life tests us.  Every time I have had some kind of insecurity about this decision, life will throw some kind of obstacle in my way which I have been interpreting as “see you can’t do it”, but I think the question life is trying to get me to ask is “how important is it to you?”.

I leave tomorrow for Washington DC.  Then fly out Wednesday morning for Africa.  My big worry was my obscene amount of baggage and how I will negotiate it all around the Addis Ababa airport.  I have 3 checked bags and a small carry on and backpack.  I think I need to cut one bag out.  That means either leave some of the clothes or some of the school supplies I wanted to bring.

That was my big worry, until the fire ants struck. Mean little beasties, fire ants are.  For those who don’t know me, I am deathly allergic to fire ants.  I was coming home from the store yesterday, in a hurry and not looking where I was going and stepped in a mound of fire ants.  Fortunately, thanks to reacting quickly, I am fine except for a painful foot.  It was an inconvenience but one that had me saying “you can’t even watch what you are doing in your own country, how are you going to go to another country, negotiate baggage, find your way around, figure out how to teach a class that doesn’t speak your language…etc etc”.  The litany of “I can’ts” began.

So today, I have to purchase the last of my supplies.  Spray my mosquito net with Permethrin, have lunch with a friend, repack and try to get rid of a suitcase full of clothes.  Sometime in there, spend my last day with my son, daughter-in-law, and grandbabies.  I really should have finished the packing thing earlier.  There just hasn’t been time to get my stuff done and visit with everyone also.

So I am stressing and when I get anxious and start to panic, I start focusing on all that I can’t do rather than on what I can.  Right now, it is full-blown panic time, so the “I can’ts” have possession of my otherwise positive attitude.  I have to remember that it is one step at a time. I need to start with the first item on my list and go until I have finished the list.  One step at a time. The journey of a 1000 miles begins with a single step. I just need to begin.  I can figure the rest out as I go.

Deep breath Robin.  Remember to breathe, stay present, and be aware.  You can totally do this.  I wish Matt was here.

It is all about perspective…

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robin

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.

b&c

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.