Poetry writing prompt

This isn’t an essay or a travel post, but my response to a writing prompt. I write every day - for 15 minutes to an hour depending on my mood, my schedule, or my level of inspiration. I believe Anne Lamott’s words are - put your butt in the chair and just write. So I try to do this. Sometimes it’s just free flow stream of consciousness (Morning Pages from the Artist’s Way type of thinking), sometimes it’s just writing about my day the day before, sometimes it’s poetry, oftentimes it is a writing prompt, and ALWAYS it’s about gratitude. This practice has changed my life. It has helped me to navigate challenging times, to reflect upon my life and the world around me, and it has helped me to embrace what is and to live in the NOW. Today’s writing prompt (from Suleika Jaouad - The Isolation Journals on Substack) was to write about a piece of art you could read, watch, view, or listen to a billion times - something that makes you shimmer inside, that makes you want to move, and with childlike wonder, play peek a boo.

This one came to me immediately - it’s Amanda Palmer’s reading of When I am Among the Trees (Mary Oliver).  I listened to that once when I was in Stinson Beach on an alonecation - just a couple of days tacked onto a work trip where I spent the weekend falling deeper in love with northern California, spending time alone hiking, reading, writing, and listening to the waves crash on the beach. I stayed in a simple little airbnb with the ocean in front of me and the mountains behind me.   I woke up to the smells of California - I had left my sliding door gently cracked.  I could feel the wet blanket of the California fog seeping into the house, gently waking me up with its damp smell.  The light was just coming over the mountains behind me. I found myself scrolling aimlessly through my phone, and somehow this poetry reading popped onto my screen.

There’s something about Amanda Palmer’s voice that sings to me.  Just sings.  As I woke up and listened to that poem and planned my day ahead which would include, of course, being among the trees… I gently smiled and took a deep breath.  The slowing.  The breathing.  It’s what my mind and body were aching for.  Reaching for.  Begging for.  And in that moment I was oh so grateful for the sound of her words, for Mary Oliver’s spirit pulsing through them, for that simple poem that makes me think of prayer.

As I read the writing prompt this morning, I immediately went to Sound Cloud to listen again. ahhhhh

“I would almost say that they save me, and daily. “  “Walk slowly and bow often.”  “To go easy”.  “To be filled with light, and to shine”.  Every single line of this poem is magical.

When I Am Among the Trees

by Mary Oliver

When I am among the trees,

especially the willows and the honey locust,

equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,

they give off such hints of gladness.

I would almost say that they save me, and daily.

I am so distant from the hope of myself,

in which I have goodness, and discernment,

and never hurry through the world

but walk slowly, and bow often.

Around me the trees stir in their leaves

and call out, “Stay awhile.”

The light flows from their branches.

And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,

“and you too have come

into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled

with light, and to shine.”

My favorite part…. And daily.  (They save me, and daily)

These 20 lines are just absolutely brilliant in their simplicity and wonder and joy…and…. Reverence.  That is the word that rolls off my tongue.  It reminds me of church. Of shavasana. Of rest. The light flowing from their branches.  I can picture myself in the middle of the redwoods with my arms encircling a trunk of a tree as I stand in the middle of their “circle”.  I love how they grow in circles.  Go easy, be filled with light, shine.  How do we go easy? How do we not hurry through the world (when it moves faster and faster all the time)?  How do we walk slowly? bow often? and be.right.there?

Such hints of gladness.  I want to dissect every single word of this poem.  I want to commit it to memory

When I am among the trees

Especially the willows and the honey locust,

Equally the beech, the oaks, and the pines,

They give off such hints of gladness.

I would almost say that they save me, AND DAILY. 

I am so distant from the hope of myself,

In which I have goodness, and discernment,

And never hurry through the world

But walk slowly, and bow often.

Around me the trees stir in their leaves

And call out, “stay awhile”

The light flows from their branches

And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,

“And you too have come into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled

With light, and to shine.”

I love the idea of the trees talking to me - telling me to go slowly, to absorb the light, to BE the light, to fill up with the light…. AND DAILY.  To not hurry, but amble.  To stay awhile.  To rest.  To breathe.  To be.  To not control.  To just be.  Walk slowly.  Bow often.  Namo, Namo.    It’s SIMPLE, they say.  

Just shine.  Just shine.  I think about that impossible self that doesn’t hurry - the one that just takes in the honey locust, the pine, the beech, the oaks… I think of gently touching their trunks with tenderness, smelling their leaves in my hands and crunching them under my feet (depending on the season). I imagine myself basking in their shade with hints of sunshine dripping through. Trees.  They are just glorious.  The giant civil war era oak outside my window from my neighbor’s yard, the trees of all shapes, sizes, and shades of green across the street at the park.  The interesting cedar like trees through my bedroom window.  My life is abundant with trees.  Abundant with nearly everything, in fact.  For that, I bow often, and daily.  The peek a boo that can be played amongst the tree trunks.  The glorious redwoods so large I can easily hide behind and between and amongst them.  Piles of leaves…covering myself head to toe in their musty smell and crunchiness.  Falling backwards into a pile that catches me with total support.  I did this in the middle of my neighborhood once; I was unable to stop myself in spite of the fact that someone had obviously painstakingly raked them into a giant pile. This made me giggle with delight, and I loved it.  The glee.  The abandon. The warm embrace.  The pillow.  Afterward, I loved picking them out of my sweater and hair for the rest of the day.  These are the things I want to say yes to. And DAILY.

When I stop

And look up

Through the branches 

As the sun

Drips gently through

It is only then

That I pause, and

Stop my scurrying

Stop my worrying

Fill my lungs with 

The damp clean air

Wrap my arms 

Around my best friends

Who are

Standing in a circle

Majestically

Reaching for the sky

Their rich, red, wood

Tickling my nose

With earth

And time

And glory

The Gift

It was delivered not from the postman 

    Not by courier or plane or train

It was a present that was not 

    Wrapped

It revealed itself through a million tiny signals

It showed me through the details

(it is always in the details)

It was exemplified in both action and words

It introduced itself in the sounds and sweet smells of a newborn baby

It came from the touch of my loved one’s hand

It was right there in the feel of my baby’s soft, fine, wispy hair on my lips

It felt like the friend who picked up the phone

     And gently held my heart

It was visible in my dog’s big brown eyes

      Looking to me for the next rub of her fur

And the nuzzle into her neck

It appeared in the tender text

      The I miss you

It blossomed from the

      I’m here to help

It made itself known in the good morning hug

      And the steamy mug of coffee

It unfolded from the

     I believe in you

       And the

     You are good enough

It erupted from hope

It arose from joy

It evolved from the tears

It superseded all that ever was

It came

It stayed

It ran me over like a semi truck

   Laying me out

   Exposing my soul

   Creating space

   Forcing out judgement

   Accepting all as is

It wrapped its arms around me 

It has been there 

   Through thick and thin

   And challenge and triumph

      And pain and ecstasy

          And music and silence

              And hot and cold

                  And sweet and bitter

It saved me

This love

The greatest gift of all

International Women's Day

To all the incredible women in my life

2023 Theme #embraceequity

What is it to be a woman?

Both glorious and tedious

Birthing and rebirth

Always the rebirth

Morphing growing showing

Up.

Balancing it all

Or not

Nevertheless moving forward

In awe of the wonder

That is this 

Life

So full of opportunities

To love

To give

To share

To bow down

To all the women who came before

Who created the path

By paving the way with blood, sweat, tears 

And life itself

Two steps forward

One step back

Yet still moving in the right direction

Grace and beauty and brilliance and compassion and empathy

All rolled into

Two x chromosomes

Capable of

Standing alone

Or 

Standing beside

But no more

Will we follow behind. 

Poetry inspired by Poetry

From the Marginalian this morning - if you don’t know this site, go to www.themarginalian.org. It is a wonderful website full of poetry and music and literature and musings on life. I read a wonderful poem by a poet I had never heard of - Derek Walcott.

Love After Love

The time will come

when, with elation,

you will greet yourself arriving

at your own door, in your own mirror,

and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.

You will love again the stranger who was your self.

Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart

to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored

for another, who knows you by heart.

Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,

peel your own image from the mirror.

Sit. Feast on your life.

I found this poem so beautiful and magical and it made me want to write about my own experience of learning to love myself. I think I spent many years not recognizing the importance of this…. too many years seeking approval or the love of others. Only when I learned to first love myself was I able to truly love and be loved.

One thing I know about writing…you have to read to write. Read a lot. Experience all kinds of styles and words and melodies and patterns. Soak it all in. And, then, and only then, are you inspired to write. When I go through periods of not reading a lot, my well is dry. When I have more time to read….the words flow.

I learned to trust my own judgement (again), I learned to embrace the me that is flawed and imperfect

Yet gorgeous

And buoyant

And brilliant

Who feels

And thinks

And stretches to reach the stars and the moon

In all their glory

Who awakens for a sunrise

Without fail

With sand between my toes and under my nails

Who weeps

And laughs

With utter abandon

Pondering the glory that is life. And love. And existence

Welcoming change

The only constant 

Yet sometimes

Curling into a ball of fear

Like a roly poly 

Then stretching again

And using my legs and running as fast as I can

Toward all

That is

And all

That might 

Be

Post Pandemic Poem

What did we learn?

The world is back

I think

As I see the planes lining up in the sky

One

After another

After another

Seemingly seconds apart

Drifting toward the airport

Skies

Empty for nearly

Two years

Now alive again

Like the cafe down the street

With millennials

Lined up down the block

Up down?

Awaiting the latest hippest spot

All of the hunkering down

And staying in

A slight memory

The fear

The angst

The masks

Tucked away

Like old photographs

Shoved in a drawer

It was all so real

And now 

Life

Comes speeding back at us

Is that what we want?

Is there a middle ground?

What have we learned?

What do we value?

Can we slow down

In a world that has been pent up

Longing

Longing

For what had been lost

And now found

And yet

There are things 

To keep

From that strange time

The nature

The gatherings outdoors

The fire pits

The singing from the balconies

The camaraderie

From a distance

The writing and reading

The breath

Found

To calm the anxiety

The trees

The birds

The cleaner air

The family

Home. 

Running Joy

Running.  Why have I never written about it?  It’s almost like it’s too sacred.  Too much a part of me to put into words.  Running has been my best friend since….well, almost as long as I can remember.  Certainly since my late teens.  Running has gotten me through so many things. I’ve fallen in and out of love while running, I’ve made big life decisions while running, I’ve planned my next vacation while running, I’ve worked through all sorts of problems while running, I’ve had sparks of brilliance while running, I’ve felt strong and weak and everything in between…while running.  It has empowered me and made me strong the way nothing else could.  It gave me confidence in my ability to…Keep.On.Going. It showed me I have Resilience. Grit.   It has taught me that my body will do whatever my mind tells it to.  I wonder how many miles I’ve run in my life, how many hours I’ve spent on the road… certainly more hours than I’ve spent doing any other single thing (except maybe sleeping).  35 years times an hour about 4 times a week (minimum), plus several years (20) of marathon training and running (much greater time and distance) - I’d guess somewhere around 10,000 hours spent running…likely more.  That’s a lot of time - no wonder running is my best friend! 

There have been times in my life when I couldn’t run or it didn’t feel good to me - pregnancy, post spinal surgery, injury, etc., and those times were hard.  My best friend wasn’t available to me.  I tried to make other friends - yoga, walking, hiking, rowing, weightlifting….I love all of them, but none of them are quite like running. 

I love running with amazing women. I love running with groups.  I love running alone.  I don’t love one type more than another, but there is definitely a time and a place for each! When I’m with friends, the conversation is always so robust and brilliant… our deep breathing accompanied by laughter and chatter about so many things.  Sometimes we talk about running, but usually not - usually we talk about all the things that matter, and all the things that don’t matter at all.  It’s a time of complete presence.  I have to be present to talk while running.  I have to be present to make sure I avoid traffic, potholes, dogs, and weird ankle turning opportunities.  The conversations ebb and flow (ebbing more on the uphill, flowing more on the down) - topics ranging from current politics, books, recipes, tv shows, children, teenagers, art, real estate (there are a lot of homes to look at while running!), city development, new restaurants, food (lots of talk about food…running does make me hungry!) work and its highs and lows, marriage, divorce, dating, friendships, decisions big and small. Sometimes one person carries the conversation, sometimes it’s a comfortable back and forth.  Sometimes the energy of each person is palpable - whether they are angry, sad, happy, joyous…I can feel it in the footsteps and pace, and I can hear it in their voices.  That energy fuels and sets the tone for the run. 

I’ve had runs where I’m laughing so loud I have to stop, and runs where my tears have flowed so freely I had to stop.  I had to stop, catch my breath, wipe the laughing or crying tears away, and start again.  Step by step. Breath by breath. 

The joy of running starts the night before when I think - I can’t wait to run in the morning.  I send or receive a text from my running partners -   who’s in for 3-4 easy miles in the morning? Early? Less early? Always early-ish for sure.  I’m feeling like a longer run - anyone else? A run starts the day off just right.  It leaves my body tingling, my skin feeling fresh and dewy, and my lungs feeling full of wonderful air.  Cold or hot, rain or shine, windy or still….. no matter. Somehow, if I’ve run in the morning, I can figure everything else out all day long.  

I’ve often said the best way to discover a new place is on foot! I’ve learned my city this way - discovering twists and turns and backroads that lead to other backroads.   I love to run when I travel, be it for business or pleasure.  There is nothing better than the discovery and wonder of the new beauty around me than while running in a new city/state/country/continent.  My brain is on fire when I run.  Sometimes I can’t remember what I had for breakfast, but I can remember the smell and the sights of a run through Barcelona 5 years ago like it just happened.  I remember running on islands in the Caribbean - running past palm trees and horses and sandy beaches.  Ah sweet Paris running…. along the Seine, to the Eiffel Tower, in a beautiful neighborhood park in the 11th. I remember pouring down rain sideways sleeting freezing marathon running in Dublin. I remember running next to a moose in Alaska (yes - for real!), windmills in Amsterdam, the sound of my own footfalls and breath before the crushing noise of spectators at the NY Marathon just before 5th avenue.  I remember cold early dark mornings in my own ‘hood…meeting one group of friends or another - pushing myself to keep up or slowing down to match the pace of my partners.  I love San Francisco running, the smell of eucalyptus, the grand red bridge, that spot at the Marina that is so beautiful I catch my breath every time.  I remember marathons, half marathons, two mile runs just to get my heart rate up and a little bit of sweat going before an early morning flight.  Running soothes me, brings me peace, eases the stress, and is and hopefully always will be a constant in my life.  

I think about the incredible humans I met while training for marathons with the Leukemia Society Team in Training - wow.  Just wow.  People who keep raising money, run lots and lots of miles, and then they come back to do it again.  Those are the kind of people I like spending four hours with on a Saturday morning - looking for water stops, sharing power gel or gu or the fuel of the day, swapping stories, talking about chafing and other inappropriate things, staying silent on the uphills, thinking about the adults and children we are running and raising money for, and just learning about each other’s lives.  There are so many incredible people that I would have never known had I not been a runner.  So many marathon experiences….. that joy keeps on bringing me back to running. 

The ideas that flood my brain during a solo run are crazy!  I’m never ever short on inspiration while running.  Sometimes its a song I’m listening to that will make me think of something I want to do or a place I want to go, but more often, it’s just the running itself.  It’s like each footfall sends a signal to my mind - encouraging it to think outside the box, to CREATE, to inspire.  I’ve had so many good travel ideas, writing ideas, work ideas, people ideas…. Sometimes I stop and record them in my notes (or ask Siri to…although those talk to text ideas often don’t make a lot of sense when I look back at them)…I’m in a constant FLOW state while running, feeling as if I can do ALL the things…. So very grateful for this.  

I don’t know where I would be without running.  I don’t know where I’d be without the fabulous people who have entered my life through running - there are so many and I am so damn lucky to have them.  Gratitude is on my mind as it’s the day after Thanksgiving.  I think about all the runs I’ve had on Thanksgiving morning - Atlanta half marathon year after year after year.  That wonderful yet exhausted feeling in my legs as I prepared a feast afterwards for the family.  That flushed, slightly dehydrated yet WONDERFUL feeling of accomplishment. (Not to mention….earning the right to eat extra mashed potatoes and pie).  I had a fabulous solo run this morning - which made me think about writing this - and I’ve decided that Turkey trots or Thanksgiving races should actually be held the day AFTER Thanksgiving….. there’s no doubt I was feeling fueled after the carbo loading event called Thanksgiving dinner last night.  Stuffing and pumpkin pie might just give spaghetti a run for its money! 

Run on my friends……grateful for YOU.  

California moments

We are here.  In my happiest of places.  

Mill Valley - where the trees are huge with trunks of red and the birds sing and the sky is blue and the air is crisp and the smell of eucalyptus is. everywhere. 

Where I breathe in deeply with awe and wonder

Where I am awake at 4 am with coffee and a book hoping the sunrise takes its time.  

Where I eat toast heavy with fat juicy raisins and veins of cinnamon covered in chunky peanut butter and cherry preserves.  

Where a deer stops in the middle of the road, gazing slowly at my car 

cocking its eyebrow

as if thinking - why are you here? 

this is my habitat 

taking its time, lightly stepping down the road

gracefully ambling off the shoulder

to the woods

for a leafy breakfast

Where the mountains meet the next small town and then  

the sea. 

Where the Dipsea,  so aptly named

dips up and down and up and down to

the sea.

Where I stop

everywhere

anywhere

and wrap my arms around a tree

breathing in the years

it took to grow

celebrating this moment

right here

right now

Eucalyptus leaves on the dash of the car

taking that smell with me

windows down

singing 70s tunes 

with abandon

off key

no matter

feels great

windows down

glorious glorious

California

ocean 

meets beaches 

meet mountains 

meet valleys 

meet redwoods 

meet grapes

oysters

and wine

and joy

oh my

my pace

and my breath

and my heart

tell me I am home

Heavy heart

I went to sleep knowing 18 families won’t sleep tonight

I woke up with a sick feeling in my stomach

thinking about those sweet elementary school children

thinking about the safe space that a school should be

thinking about the joy school brought me as a child

the joy it brought me as a mom

every time I walked into a school to be room mom

or secret reader

I smiled

because there’s something so special

about a school full of children

something so special about the adults who have 

committed their lives to teaching others

to bringing smiles to faces 

to making learning fun

I think about laughter in the hallways

pushing and shoving and giggling

in the lunch line

finger painting

alphabet reciting

song singing

those tiny voices shrill with glee

playground playing

running, sweating, tagging

times tables

science projects

story time

quiet reading 

all shattered by

the sound of gunfire

the screams

the devastation

for no reason

no reason at all

a place that should be a respite

from the evil of the world

instead

a magnet for it

why must our children pay the price

for the politics

the votes

the power

Let the magic continue.....

The last couple of days in Paris were magical - wonderful food, a lot of walking, enjoying the last few moments in “our” loft, and trying to suck the life out of this beautiful, magical city.  The time change is always a challenge when I come back to the US; I had fully settled into Paris time after our two weeks there.  Yesterday, we awoke early as we had a 9 am flight out of CDG.  I woke to the full moon shining brilliantly through the upper windows of the loft and I awaken early today (3:30 am) and see the same brilliant full moon with a glorious pink tinge shining through the windows of my woman cave as I use this time to mentally catch up on work, read, and write.  What a joy it is to have this very still time in the morning to listen to my heart.  I feel the energy of the full moon.  I think a lot about energy.  I find the MOST powerful energy when I am in nature or observing nature.  I think about the energy of the city of Paris - vibrant and bustling and full of tourists in all the familiar places, yet, also… peaceful and relaxing in the haven of the beautiful air bnb we rented on Rue de la Fontaine au Roi (street of the fountains for kings…. I must say I felt like a queen the whole time I was here!)   I love the life of walking to get groceries at the local supermarket, bread at the boulangerie around the corner, coffee beans at the coffee shop across the street, wine at the wine store.  There seems to be a specialty store for everything in Paris - with a local shopkeeper that is an expert in his/her wares.  My French is weak - baby French, really…and I was continually amazed at how wonderfully kind the French people were about this - doing their very best to speak to me in MY language in THEIR country.  And often apologizing that their English (that I thought was fantastic) was not so good.  This kindness was beautiful to me.  It’s one of the things I love so much about Paris (Europe in general) - the plethora of languages all around me, the different colors, shapes, sizes, looks of all the humans.  I loved that in this beautiful loft (it’s beauty disguised by a cement wall that faces the street with a spectacular surprise of a wall of windows facing a courtyard to the back), I could hear people speaking French from other open windows, I could see the African restaurant across the street, I could find an Italian market nearby, I could shop at a vintage store or a boutique,  I could have a crepe from a street vendor or an incredible French five star meal….all in the same neighborhood.   I would sit in the loft with my coffee in the morning (from a wonderful machine that could instantly make me an espresso, a cappucino, whatever my heart desired), reading and writing and listening to the birdsong and children laughing outside.  The loft used to be a school and now the school moved across the courtyard.  The sound of the children playing always brought a smile to my face as I felt the cool breeze through the window.  

I fell a bit in love with the 11th arrondissement on this trip - close enough to everywhere for a nice long walk - far enough away to feel like I’m actually LIVING in Paris.  There are incredible restaurants with new and inventive chefs here, a wonderful open air market on Tuesdays and Saturdays to buy fresh produce, and everything I could need within a few blocks.  I love a beautiful hotel, but I love an airbnb apartment rental even more because I can learn a neighborhood and an area so well.  A little home away from home.  

This trip was a very special one.  It had required me to move mountains to get here, so that made it all the better!  The first week was spent exploring Paris with Wilson and his friend Ari for their spring break.  It was interesting to watch the view of the city and countryside of France through the eyes of two almost 15 year olds.  We did the typical touristy things - the Eiffel Tower, shopping, eating at cute French cafes, etc. and also took a two day trip out to the coast to see Normandy, the US Cemetery there, and Mont St. Michel.  It was a great experience with a tour guide that knew the area well and could fill in all the details for us.  The drive was long and the weather chilly and cloudy and windy, but many spots along the way were breathtaking - my favorite being the bright almost fluorescent yellow canola fields dotting the countryside.  There were herds of cattle, rolling hills, and farm country for miles.  As we neared the coast, you could smell and feel the sea air.  We stayed in a very simple bed and breakfast in the town of Ouistreham along the coast - the most memorable part of that being getting caught in a torrential downpour while looking for a restaurant, dripping our way into a local pizza place, and then being rewarded with a giant double rainbow (arc en ciel).  

We started our week with a bike tour through le Marais - orienting us to the things we wanted to explore further and opening our eyes to so many things.  It happened to be the Paris Marathon that morning, and I felt tears come to my eyes as I watched the runners from all over the world race through the city.  The bike tour was a bit challenging as we had to navigate crossing the race course multiple times, but it was also so fun and exciting and the energy was magnificent - yelling, clapping, music blaring, and the sound of footfalls all around us as men and women of all ages covered this city for 26.2 miles.  Ah, makes me want to run this marathon.  

The boys enjoyed vintage shopping, attending a Paris St Germain soccer game (they won easily 5-1), sneaker shopping, eating a LOT of new things (Wilson is a pizza/hamburger/chicken nugget kinda guy), and I was so proud of how they tried new foods and tried the French language.  They ventured out a few times on their own to buy croissants, bubble tea in the China town nearby, and wander around a bit on their own.  We took them to a fancy meal one night at Frenchie (Robb and I had a wonderful meal there on our last visit to Paris), and they ate nearly everything; I won’t say they LIKED it, but they ate it, and I think were pleasantly surprised with some of the dishes they experienced.  If I had told them part of this trip would be eating asparagus with mushrooms, mushroom foam and mushroom broth topped in edible flowers and other random things…..I’m not sure they would have come!  But, they ate it like champs and maybe even liked it a little bit.  

I’m not sure Paris was what Ari and Wilson thought it would be, but I hope it opened their eyes to a new part of the world - my ultimate goal in bringing them here.  We explored Musee D’Orsay; they weren’t that into any of the museums, but we couldn’t go to Paris without a visit to at least one.  The building itself and the masterpieces contained here were breathtaking.  

We could have done the yearly beach vacation, but I want them to know from a young age that there is an ENTIRE world out there that is the same and also very different from the part of the world we live in. 

The new rules about entering the US from Paris include 1) being fully vaccinated (we were) and 2) getting a negative covid test one day before departure.  Robb had been experiencing some allergy type symptoms, but he always suffers from seasonal allergies and EVERYTHING was blooming in Paris, so we assumed that was what was happening with him.  We had joked with friends about “hey, let’s just get covid and stay in Paris longer”….little did we know - that would be the case!  The boys and I were negative, but Robb tested positive.  Yikes - we had been in a car with one another, sleeping in close quarters, but somehow the boys and I never got it. Robb wasn’t terribly sick, but certainly was tired and needed to isolate.  My “fight or flight” response (similar to the passport situation) kicked in and we immediately began to evaluate all options.  The universe is constantly reminding me that I am not in control…… and somehow we just leaned into this and welcomed the opportunity to stay in Paris for at least a few more days - how often do you get an extension of your European trip?  This attitude helped us navigate with grace and acceptance.  We knew it would likely be at least a week before Robb would test negative, and/or meet the French requirements which are 7 days isolation, so we moved our flights out one week.  We called Delta to get the rules around the boys, and for a fee they could travel as “unaccompanied minors” on the direct Paris to ATL flight.  This made my stomach churn a bit (I don’t love to fly myself and the thought of putting the boys on a plane alone freaked me out a bit).  I talked myself off that ledge, made the arrangements, and then the boys and I went out to enjoy their last day in Paris and Robb started his quarantine.  So - we would see how this remote work with a six hour time difference works!  

We enjoyed the final day with breakfast at a lovely cafe, then ventured by taxi to Saint-Ouen for “Les Puces” (the fleas) flea market.  This was a combination of extremely expensive and beautiful antique furniture and rugs as well as street vendors, vintage clothing and books, and of course the knock-off handbags, tennis shoes, and jewelry.  It is a feast for the eyes and the senses!  We enjoyed french fries and cokes for them and wine for me as we watched the people begin to crowd the streets.  We purchased vintage sunglasses, tried on outlandish clothes and took selfies everywhere.  I will treasure these moments with them - such great little humans.   Sometimes it is wonderful to be a tourist!   We returned to keep Robb company from a distance in his isolation.  That beautiful loft was not a terrible place to be in quarantine.  

We enjoyed pain au Chocolat almost daily, beautifully colored Macarons of every flavor, bought gifts, walked, laughed, returned to the loft to rest, and started all over again the next day.  I had champagne or wine with lunch and dinner most days and have developed quite the appreciation for French wine even though I am an outspoken California wine enthusiast! put the boys on a plane the next day, (after three hour delay), and then I sat in the airport restaurant drinking champagne and eating bread as I awaited their departure (the rules required me staying until their flight took off).  Thank goodness for Ari’s mom on the other end who was picking them up when they landed.  I returned by taxi to our apartment (home by now)and realized that I was going to have the luxury of a full EXTRA week in Paris.  As Robb said, he picked just the RIGHT time to finally get covid….lol.  Thank goodness he was vaxxed and boosted so he wasn’t too sick.  I didn’t sleep much that night until I knew they had landed safely and all was well.  Back to the school/life routine for them.  

Week two in Paris for us was about to begin.   Robb went for daily covid tests, felt better by the day,  and finally after six days of quarantine he tested negative and we could enjoy the city together.  I got a little time on my own that week (before the work calls started at 3 or 4 pm), enjoyed running in the beautiful Buttes-Charmont park nearby, doing a little shopping on my own, enjoying meals and making some new friends along the way, getting my hair cut and colored ….I’m somewhat blonde now…lol…and just taking it all in.  Robb and I both prefer the magic of wandering around and happening upon restaurants and events, and while our feet were begging us for mercy, we did just that a number of times during these two weeks.  We had incredible meals no matter where we wound up - enjoying restaurants near our house and around the city- our first night a wonderful meal at a small place called Au P’Tit Curieux that we stumbled on to,  Deux Restaurant; Bistrot de chefs, Chez Jeannette (this one by myself one afternoon for le dejeuner at the recommendation of our air bnb host- met some lovely people there), Grand Duc Paris, Ibrik, the famous falafel place in Le Marais whose name escapes me, and too many others to name.  Suffice it to say, I had my share (and then some!) of croissant, pain au Chocolat, delicious french butter, cream, ham, bread……and delightfully rich and wonderful French cuisine.  

Which reminds me - I also learned to BAKE croissants and pain au Chocolat through an airbnb experience class.  I, along, with eight other people from around the world, saw first hand JUST HOW MUCH BUTTER (and that is 84% fat butter, for the record) goes into a batch of croissants!  The finished product was warm and wonderful, and the process labor intensive and worth every second of it!  I got to bring a few home to Robb, still quarantining…. 

There was a lot of time to read and write and just enjoy the beautiful space we were staying in; the host had become a friend at this point, giving advice and working through our trials and tribulations with us! He graciously allowed us to stay in the loft - so grateful we didn’t have to move during this time - and we enjoyed cooking in the beautiful kitchen and lounging with the windows open with a glass of wine.  It was cold and wet the week the boys were with us (a couple of sunny days, but still quite cool), but it was warm and sunny and 70 degrees the second week.  This allowed us to enjoy the rooftop terrace of this apartment as well - watching the sunset and the moonrise on many occasions.  

Wedging work in at the end of the day proved challenging; I felt like I was having TWO full days crammed into one day (seeing the city and then working), followed by not enough sleep.  I wouldn’t change a thing though - the opportunity to stay another week made me realize I never want to stay less than two weeks in the future!  Now that we’ve learned to work remotely, we should be able to make this happen - the UPSIDE of covid, if there are any upsides.  

I had many other learnings on this trip as well

1. You’re never in control

2. Everything is going to happen just like it’s supposed to

3. Beauty really is everywhere

4. Magic happens when you least expect it

5.  Having no plan is often the best way to go - it all unfolds 

There is sooo much more to write about from this trip - so many lovely simple moments of laughter, so many times I felt like my feet were broken from all the walking, so many beautiful smells (nothing like the smell of croissants baking), so many beautiful shops and restaurants and so much SPRING in Paris to enjoy.   I can’t wait to go back.  

I CAN and I WILL.....make magic happen....with a little help from my friends and the universe

Wednesday, March 30th - the day I realized that Wilson’s passport had expired March 21st. Nine days previously. We were leaving for Paris on April 1, 2022. This is NOT an April Fool’s joke. It was the strangest chain of events; typically I don’t even pull the passports out of my file cabinet until the day I am leaving; getting all the pertinent documents together, writing notes for the dog sitter, etc.  But for some reason, I pulled them out and happened to glance at Wilson’s picture (where he looked very young!) and glanced at the dates - 3/21/2022.  I had to think a minute (covid made time weird for some reason)… omg. It was expired.  We were supposed to leave for Paris in 48 hours with Wilson and his friend, Ari.  We had checked all of the boxes around Ari getting his passport, covid cards appropriately stored, the French paperwork all filled out for Delta, but somehow I just assumed Wilson’s passport was still fine - wasn’t it just a couple of years ago we had it made?  Unfortunately, it was true, and my heart literally sunk and my eyes welled with tears knowing this likely would keep us from traveling to France. I allowed myself a moment of despair and then burst into action. Google. Google. Google.  What do I do when I’m traveling soon and passport has expired?  Expedited passport?  The first call I made was to a 1-800 number at the US passport agency.  After being asked a series of recorded questions about my travel dates, etc., I finally got a person.  I somehow felt relief about this - surely this person would understand and fix it for me.  Government agencies have changed in the time of covid, however.  You cannot go to a passport agency in this situation without an appointment - they won’t even give you the address of the location to go to until you have secured an appointment.  Ok. Great. Let’s book an appointment.  She says to me - I’m very sorry, ma’am, but the only appointment I have is at 11 am tomorrow in Honolulu.  I laugh a bit - oh, I’m in Atlanta I say.  Yes Ma’am  I know.  You said that.  But the only place I can get you an appt is Honolulu tomorrow morning.  As I try to wrap my head around this and say to her - “surely there’s another way”..what about those expedited agencies.  No, ma’am.  There is no other way.  she then promptly hangs up on me.  She must deal with this all. day. long.  My questions were just blah blah blah blah to her. My long awaited vacation meant nothing to this person on the other end of the line.

I took a deep breath and called Delta.  Fortunately, I have access to the diamond line which gets me to a person more quickly…. the woman starts reading some information she has about a child traveling with a birth certificate, blah blah blah…I respond - “are you sure you’re looking at international travel to France?”  If that were the case, no one would bother getting a passport for their kid…..this didn’t sit well with me…I didn’t quite believe her (luckily). Back to the passport agency number.  I get another person.  Same story.  Honolulu.  Now 1030 or 11 am are options - thank goodness; TWO Honolulu options! I get on Delta and Kayak - could I even make this happen? What if I flew to Honolulu with Wilson JUST to get the passport?  Nope - couldn’t even logistically make it happen.  Most flights sold out and even with THREE airport connections - the timing wasn’t right.  Couldn’t even GET to Honolulu in time, let alone get back in time for our flight to Paris at 10 pm Friday night.  It was 6 pm Wednesday.  What else? What else?  I call Kenya (Wilson’s friend’s mom) and tell her the sad and increasingly real situation….she says - don’t give up.  We are going to make this happen.  Options included - calling senators, the French consulate (they opened 8 am the next day).  Kenya says - “I have sorority sisters that can make this happen”… I believe her - the freaking power of women on a mission!!!

I call Delta again.  This time I get the very sobering news that this is NOT happening.  EVEN IF the Delta agent were to let us through, there was  a high likelihood that the French officials, upon arrival, would refuse us entry.  At this point, Delta would be on the hook to put us on the very next airplane back to the US at THEIR expense even if they had to kick someone else off the flight.  I’m sorry ma’am, but your only option may be to go to the French consulate and get some type of override; I’ve seen it happen before, but I have no idea how. Somehow I was worried I might not be French enough (45% according to 23 and me..lol) or have the right connections to pull this off. No matter - still an option.

I sat back in my chair and knew I had to get creative. What to do. what to do. I have been planning this trip for months; much care (and money!) had gone into picking JUST the right airbnb, planning events that would appeal to 14 year old boys AND adults, making reservations, etc.  I HAD purchased travel insurance, and I pulled up the policy to see the conditions.  I had done this in case of covid situations, but did it cover “stupidity around passport expiration”?… I continued to mentally beat myself up over this part which was a waste of energy.  I pushed that to the side and saw that the policy covered “trip cancellation” - I figured I could probably fall into that category, BUT I did NOT want the insurance payment.  I wanted to go to Paris.  The boys were excited, I was excited, and we needed this time off and time together.  Think.  Think.  Think.   My anxiety level was high and was not helped by the Sudafed I was taking for the sinus infection from which I was currently recovering. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest and the weight of the world on my shoulders.  I called the 1-800 number at the passport agency again. and again. and again.  Kenya and Robb were also calling - I was shocked at how many agents there were… I don’t know how many calls later, but the guy says in a monotone voice - I have an appt at 730 am tomorrow in Miami.  (They had told me that cancellations did happen).  I don’t know why this person had cancelled their appointment and certainly never will, but I am grateful out of my mind for them.  I immediately said - I will take it!  In the back of my mind, I was thinking, surely I can make this happen even if I have to make a 12 hour drive.  (that’s about how much time I had at this point).  He begins to go through the documents required and one is a notarized form from Wilson’s dad saying it’s ok for me to get the passport without him present.  (Passports for kids require both parents to avoid one parent stealing a kid and taking them out of the country).  What are the odds that he would be home and available to sign? Alas he was. As was Wilson because his soccer game had been (surprisingly) cancelled at the last minute. Had they been out in the suburbs at this game instead of 4 blocks away, I’m pretty sure this would have been impossible just time-wise. Thank you universe.

Notary.  Notary. It’s now 7 pm.  Where can if find a notary?  I send out texts to various people, and savior of all saviors, I realize one of my friends IS a notary, she lives close by, and is willing to go to Wilson’s dads and get the form notarized.  Hallelujah!  Passport pictures.  I call CVS - yup, they can do them.  Somewhere in here, I have told Wilson about the situation (he’s at his dad’s house).  I want him to understand there is a chance we may not be going.  I shoot him a quick text and say - get an overnight bag packed, we’re going to Miami.  Flights. Flights.  I hop on Delta and there are two flights that night - 945 and 11:45.  I do some quick math in my head - CVS, Notarized form, pack a bag, drive to airport, security…better go with the second one.  In the meantime, Kenya has also moved into action and is driving to a friend who is a notary to take care of it. I’m able to stop that long drive midway…thank you LIZ!  I race to pick up Wilson and the notarized form, head to CVS, get the pictures - grab a granola bar because oh yeah, I haven’t eaten a thing since breakfast and am feeling the adrenaline and lack of food making me a little dizzy.  

We make it to the airport….the security line is looonnnggg.  I don’t usually fly out of Hartsfield-Jackson this late, and I discover that only the main security line is open at this hour.  No Clear. No TSA precheck.  Just that long endless line where you have to take everything out of your bag, shoes off, etc.  I check my watch.  We’re fine.  We make it through in about 45 mins, head to the sky club for a quick glass of wine and a snack and get to our gate just in time for boarding.  

It’s late.  We’re exhausted.  and in this moment I think to myself - can this happen? IS this happening?  I mentally check the documents in my bag, birth certificate, MY ID, notarized form, passport pictures, Wilson’s expired passport, MY passport and birth certificate (JUST IN CASE).  OH wait - I don’t have a hotel OR a car at this point.  While on the runway, I book both from my phone.  I failed to mention all of the flights to Miami were sold out.  We were flying to Ft Lauderdale.  This meant, when I landed at 1 am, I had to get in a rental car and drive about 40 minutes to my hotel that I had booked near the passport office.  We arrived at 2:40 am to that hotel.  Wilson had been sleeping off and on as had I on the airplane.  He immediately fell asleep. I washed my face, did some deep breaths, and passed out for 3.5 hours until my alarm went off at 530.  We were going to leave EARLY even thought the passport center was 9 minutes away.  We had come too far to be late - they were very insistent that people needed to arrive on time.  We head off at around 650 for the 730 appointment.  Thank goodness we did; there was a lot of construction in the area, detours, I took a wrong turn and wound up miles away.  Deep breaths. Deep breaths.  We make it there at 720 - the parking situation is not obvious.  We park at the Checkers across the street and figure we will deal with it if the car gets booted.  (it did not)

After lines and security checks and waiting and sharing of documents, she says to me - come back between 12 and 1 for the passport.  Naturally, I had booked an 11:45 am flight home from Ft Lauderdale in an attempt to get Wilson back to school and a tutorial he needed to do after school.  That wasn’t going to happen.  Email teacher.  Email school. Get on Delta app.  Book 5 pm flight.  Upgrade to first class with points - YOLO.  Wilson had expressed to me that this whole thing was super fun - LOL.  He LOVED receiving the text from me - pack your bag, we’re going to Miami.  At the time I told him - you realize we aren’t going to the beach, right?  We’re going to do some administrative work, we won’t get any sleep, and it’s not going to be fun.  He laughed and was like - this is great, I love to fly, and I don’t have to go to school. I love that kid and his attitude, and in that moment, now that I could breathe, now that we were getting soooo close to making this happen, I smiled and thought - let’s make this a little fun.  We have 4-5 hours to kill.  We drove to south beach, had a delightful breakfast sitting outdoors.  I noticed the warm, humid, breezy air.  I smelled the sea.  I tasted the delicious avocado and eggs and green smoothie and coffee and breathed.  The breath is powerful and remarkable, and I FINALLY felt my blood pressure lower.  We walked over to the beach, rented some chairs from the hotel (60 more dollars, but at this point…..), lathered up Wilson with sunscreen we had purchased from a local hotel lobby, and promptly passed out.  Wilson set an alarm, I set an alarm, and a couple hours later, we walked back to the car, toasty and warm and relaxed from the sun, and headed back to get the passport.  

That process took about an hour or so, and by 2 pm we were headed back to Fort Lauderdale for the return trip home with Wilson’s BRAND NEW passport in our hot little hands.  I thought about taping it to my body somewhere…….. WE HAD DONE THIS SHIT.  I literally couldn’t even believe it.  We had also had a lot of laughs (and a few tears) along the way…. I thought about what a wonderful privilege it was to BE ABLE to do this, to spend this ridiculous time with Wilson (teenager time is so fleeting), and to be getting home in time to pack, work (I had bumped so many Thursday meetings to Friday), and head out the next evening.  Alas, it wasn’t to be quite that easy……

Our 5 pm flight was delayed, but finally we boarded the plane, settled into our first class seats, and promptly fell asleep. What a hectic, sleepless journey this had been!  We taxied out, sat there, sat there.  Finally the pilot came on and said - well, there is some weather across north Florida…Wilson and I looked at each other and said “of course” (this had become our mantra as one little thing after another TRIED to get in our way…) and, we have to taxi back to the gate to get new flight plans taking us around the storm and refuel for the longer flight.  Sigh.  OK.  I’m mentally doing the math - if we don’t take off, and I rent a car, I can drive the 10ish hours to Atlanta (even though I was two glasses of wine, one .5 xanax and 3 hours of sleep in two days…) and we will still make it.  

We refuel, get the flight plans, taxi back out….again, the pilot.  In an aggravated voice, he says - well, folks, we are headed back to the gate.  There’s a passenger on board demanding to get off the plane, and in these situations, we have to let them off.  WTF??? This was a thing? Someone can just say they want off and the rest of us are screwed?  Apparently.  Anyway, we go back - everyone is angrily eyeing the aisles trying to figure out who it is… In that moment, I reminded myself to be compassionate - I have no idea what could be up.  It could be a health issue, it could be terror (I don’t love to fly so actually I understand this one a bit)..I would never know.  As the situation evolved, many passengers were missing their connections in Atlanta, so about half the plane decides to deplane.  I ask the flight attendant- do you think this plane is leaving tonight?  She says she thinks so.  Passengers are asking about the pilot and crew “timing out” - maxing out the hours they can be in air and then unable to fly to ATL.  The pilot announces that this is his first leg and he could, technically, fly all night long…. not that any of us wanted that, but nice to know.

The flight attendant starts serving drinks and snacks….we’ve been sitting on this plane for almost 4 hours at this point.  FINALLY, we take off around 9:30 pm - 5 hours after we boarded.  We make it home to Atlanta, to our car, drive to our house, and are in bed around 12:30 am.  

Robb looked at me in awe and said, “can I do anything to help you”?  He had been saying this for the last 24 hours or more as he watched this ridiculous scenario unfold……  and he HAD certainly been helpful and supportive throughout the process - so grateful for that.  He actually tried to pack for me…..lolol…. I don’t recommend this. I was heading to Miami and he had thrown in the heaviest sweatshirt I own.  This gave me a good giggle.  

As I snuggled into my bed, I again took a deep breath and said - “We’re going to Paris”.  I had a moment of overwhelming gratitude that the stars had aligned.  I had a moment of realizing I HAD DONE THIS with the help of so many people and the universe along the way.  I DIDN’T GIVE UP.  At one point right after I discovered the expired passport, I put my head down on my desk and sobbed.  I felt helpless and hopeless.  Then I remembered who I was.  Then Kenya said - oh we’re gonna make this happen.  Then Liz said - I’m there for you sister.  Then Robb hugged me and said you’re amazing.  I remembered I can do really hard things.  I remembered I have the drive and will to make magic happen.  I’m carrying this with me forever.  This will be a story Wilson and I will tell forever.  I don’t know if he realizes what an unbelievable mountain we climbed, but he will remember how fun he thought it was - hahahaha.  (This made me realize that sometime I just need to plan a quick getaway, text him pack your bag, and REALLY do something fun…not just a frantic quest for administrative paperwork ….) 

WE WERE GOING TO PARIS.  And here I sit writing this.  In a gorgeous, out of this world, sun-drenched loft in the 11th arrondissement.  We have been here about 48 hours, and already my heart is full of beautiful Parisian experiences, my belly is full of cappuccino and wine and crepes and croissants and macarons, my mind is full of the gorgeous French language, my eyes delight at the budding trees of spring in Paris, the sights, the sounds, the beautiful people, the fashion and design…. and I feel so very grateful.  We had to work really hard to get here, and it’s all the sweeter as a result.  More to come as the serendipity unfolds……….

The Perfect Day

Today I did whatever the fuck I wanted.  And it was magical.  And wonderful.  And hard to put into words.  But I’m going to try.  Why is it so amazing to just not ask questions, not worry about anyone else, and just go and do and be?  

I searched for a perfect hike this morning.  And then I hiked it.  It was gorgeous and full of wonderful sights and sounds and smells.  It was 13. 6 miles long.  Exactly.  It was an out and back trail.  5.5 miles over the hills and through the woods with the ocean in the distance and then up closer and then I could hear the sound of the waves and smell the surf.  I reached the beach and it was another mile to a WATERFALL.  A waterfall onto the beach from the cliff above. I can’t say that I’ve ever seen anything quite so wonderful.  The sand was soft and hard to walk in and my legs felt tired as I trudged toward the falls, dodging the waves and slipping in mud.  There were rocks - smooth and oval and round and gray and black and brown and white.  I picked one up.  It was special.  It had blue streaks through it on the gray surface.  I put it in my pocket and later, when I wrapped my jacket around my waist it kept hitting my leg; there will likely be a small bruise there tomorrow.  And I will like it.  I only brought a bottle of water and a clif bar on that hike.  I ate it at the falls.  And it was delicious and perfect and my body needed it.  I thought about the beautiful reiki massage I had the day before where the healer/massage therapist told me that my body is my friend and companion and to always remember that.

I sipped the water out and back and it, too, was enough. Why does California smell so good? So. damn. good.  There were poppies and lilies and irises - those purple wild irises that my mom would have loved.  She loved irises.  The kind that grow in Kansas and smell lovely.  These were smaller and didn’t smell. I tried.  Everything else smelled though. Wild jasmine. Surf. glorious eucalyptus - my very. favorite. smell. ever.  I knew I was going to love this hike when the first mile (and the last, as it was out and back) was a eucalyptus forest.  I breathed and breathed and breathed it in and wished there was a “save” button in my nose for when I wasn’t in California anymore.  When I reached the falls, I was happy to see them. I also realized I had just as far to return, and my legs were already feeling it.  But I love the way my legs feel when I overdo it.  It’s why I’ve run so many damn marathons.  There’s nothing like the way your legs feel and a cheeseburger tastes at the end of a marathon.  I thought about life and poetry and beauty on that hike. I also thought a lot about food.  When I made it back to my car 14 miles later, I stretched, I breathed, I finished my water, and drove back to Stinson Beach - 20 minutes or so.  I watched the sun lowering and shining over the Bolinas lagoon.  I saw it for the first time 12 years ago, and it never gets any less beautiful.  The cranes or egrets or whatever those gorgeous white birds are - gathering together around the edges as the sun glistened and the tide came in. I drove my car with the window down (even though it was cold…. I needed the smell) and the music blaring and smiled to myself.  I was living my perfect day.  I returned to my little rented cottage, took the hottest shower ever, scrubbed the dirt from my ankles, massaged creamy conditioner into my hair and sang out loud.  My stomach was growling, I went to dry my hair and alas - no hair dryer in this cute little rental.  I pulled a beanie (my fave bright green Tommy Breeze hat)over my wet hair , threw a few layers of warm clothing in my big bag, loaded in my computer and kindle, and headed off to Parkside cafe, my favorite food spot.  I ate all the food.  Drank all the wine.  Read my book.  Petted the dogs.  Recharged my phone in the car while I warmed my bones.  Parked in the lot behind Parkside cafe until I had enough juice to take a photo of the gorgeous sunset.  I took a lot of deep breaths there as I sat at the edge of the beach taking it all in.  People throwing frisbees, posing for photos, smoking weed, running and jumping and sitting.  All focused on that gorgeous orange orb lowering itself into the sea.    

And in this moment.  I feel like I’m the luckiest human on earth.  The perfect day.  

Lilies and Birdsong

I open my eyes to Stinson Beach this morning.  I’ve cracked the back door - letting in the chilly fragrant morning air - eucalyptus and sea and California.  Yesterday was a glorious clear bright sky day- so beautiful it made my heart hurt.  The sun shining over the Golden Gate; its rays piercing through the bright blue, landing on the hills and the sea and red metal and tourists.  Alllllll the people heading to the beach to capture those rays. The warmth of the day creating electricity in them - these people that are so used to fog and gray and drizzle. The birds sing in either temperature, praising all that is around them.  They only need a sliver of daylight to sing.  

I will file this away for a time when I need it.  Singing. Only needs daylight.    

Today is gray again, the fog hanging heavy over the mountains.  The giant calla lilies cover the backyard; their fragrance hanging heavy in the air, lighting up the sky with their white brilliance.  The birds still sing.  The day is calling to me - come and play with me. Reminding me to open my eyes. Breathe in the wonder.  Wrap my arms around the stillness.  And the trunk of a redwood. Sing. 

I was lucky enough to stumble on a Mary Oliver poem this morning as I drank my coffee and listened to the birds and watched the sunrise.

When I am Among the Trees

When I am among the trees, especially the willows and the honey locust, equally the beech, the oaks and the pines - They give off such hints of gladness I would almost say that they save me, and daily.  I’m so distant from the hope of myself in which I have goodness and discernment and never hurry through the world but walk slowly, and bow often.  Around me the trees stir in their leaves and call out - stay awhile.  The light flows from their branches and they call again.  It’s simple they say, and you too have come into the world to do this , to go easy, to be filled with light.  and to shine.  

You can listen to it here, read by Amanda Palmer

https://soundcloud.com/brainpicker/amanda-palmer-reads-when-i-am-among-the-trees-by-mary-oliver

My favorite part….. and bow often.

Poetry as a travel journal

Sometimes I like to document my travels in the form of poetry - a rambling jumble of words documenting the sights, sounds, smells, tastes of an extraordinary experience. The love is in the details. The secrets and laughter nestled in the words.

Sisterhood

means a lot of things

but mostly means big love

warm acceptance

gracious understanding  

similarities and the differences 

bind us and 

make us complementary pieces 

of a bigger puzzle

first stop sky club

all the laughs

together again

way too long

forget the oj

just the bubbles please

board the plane

yay the upgrades

chatter chatter

first stop 

buy the special pens

the energy the calm

where to park

Ferry building

not as bustling

as precovid

but wine store open

for a tasting

of big fat cabs

first meal of cheese and bread

one of many

getting dark

start the drive down the coast

glorious half moon rising above

fertile green cliffs

crashing waves

rolling hills of golf and play

was our opening act

my pleasure

graces our ears

with every request

all the water

all the chocolate

Brendan at your service

search for plates

not actually twice as nice

but wedged between the shovels and paint

Ace it is

three just waiting for us

its a sign 

shower and primp

and trade and exchange until we feel lovely

and ready for the field

hats and boots and lipstick 

vaccine cards at the ready

bubbly wine goes down like kombucha

not bad, not good

all the pictures

cows and sheep and dogs and horses

surround us

appreciating the dirt, the land, the soil

that brings us food - beast and plant

nurtured by humans creating

pleasure and sustenance for the world 

breathtaking views

stunning landscapes

all the photos

posing smiling fake laughing real laughing

hats and boots and dresses and Jim

the gorgeous view ever changing

as the time passes

sun dipping, dipping, and shining on 

our smiling faces

smells of farms and citrus

the long table sits wayyyyyy in the distance

making new friends

before and during 

a dinner that was stunning

if bland

the light, the sea, the setting sun

delightful 

the sky pink then orange then glowing

the earth embracing us

with all its wonder

dirt caking our boots

and filling our hearts

special delivery via red and white bus

OUTSTANDING

four wheeler back

bumpity bump

that half moon bright and light and 

guiding us back

to the warm 

sheets of luxury

solitary run over the hills

time alone to breathe and think

and soak in the gratitude

for this day

this life

so abundant

goin to California with an achin…

in my heart

breakfast delivered

room service twice

early coffee

late breakfast

the pack up the movement

the drive north

through the hilly city

roll down the window!

smell the eucalyptus

mixed with sea and fog

sun breaking through

temperatures temperate

brilliant blue sky

echoing joy back to us

Rams gate arrival

now the delicious food

lesson in pure creativity

beautiful views

glorious sun

pricey lunch

worth all the pennies

PUT IT IN THE APP

pleasant buzz of ok wine

fuels us on the journey north

where to next?

can’t decide

coastal drive 

beautiful and brutal 

hairpin curves

jaw dropping views

all the ocean below around in front of us

the cliffs dropping 

to the crashing waves

keep the car steady

take all the photos (not the driver)

focus  focus  focus

on the road ahead

past Fort Ross

something about Russians

google later

no service

no directions

just keep going

all the way to Jenner

then beyond

Timber cove

fire pit and sea flowers

stretching to the rocks

as the giant orange orb

meets the sea

worth the drive

better go

sky is darkening

long drive back

playlist going

all the mellow tunes

feeling the wine

are we hungry?

not many options

onward to Monte Rio

over the hills

around the bend

between the trees and ocean

deer in the road

be careful around the curves

breathe in breathe out

finally deep deep into the trees

nestled between the redwoods

we find our sanctuary

packed too much

up the stairs

heave ho

settle in

where to eat must find food

Northwood Restaurant

French Laundry of Monte Rio

neon signs

local crowd

Chili and salad 

eww the gas tummies ache

sit outside breathe the cool air

must sleep

morning views 

foggy sleepy peaceful

walks and runs

movement is good

buy all the pastries

irish bread every flavor

coffee coffee coffee

get pretty

blow the breaker

too many hairs to dry

back in the giant ride

heading over the hills and through the woods

grapevines yellow and red and orange and gold

breathtaking beauty around every curve

better wine

all the tastes

more photo ops with gorgeous views

beautiful birthday girl and her sidekicks

into town for some lunch

distracted by clothing and blankets and earrings

oh my

Oakville grocery

picnic time!

a gentle Merlot for the compromise

along with Mt Tam cheese

fresh baguette

various treats

lemon cookies top it off 

no time to shop save for later

on to vineyard number two

find a head

to try on hat

drink the wine

smile pose mountains behind

setting sun

glorious light

all the light 

all the time

surrounding, embracing, and shining upon us

random stop

italian wine, olio

walk the gardens

sky turns pink

gingko towels

wine more wine to top us off

all the laughter

into Healdsburg 

browse the art

buy the things

gifts and treats

wine making eyelids droop

dark so early

7 pm? ready for bed?

pizza it is

meh too much cheese

but bread and cheese

in any form

is never wrong.

no more wine

just cannot. 

cannot.

cannot.

Back to home

in the woods

nestled in the trees

for our last sleep and pack

the time went by oh so fast

how can it be time to leave?

there is more wine to drink

more shops to shop

more beauty to smell and see and touch and taste

more nature for prayer

more stories to tell

back to the airport

tired

don’t wanna go

bagels for the final meal

kombucha instead of wine

drive drive

drop the car

walk entire airport

bags overweight

how did that happen

200 bucks

crowded sky club

onto plane

for the long journeys home

so many laughs

so much love

all the joy

all the pictures

never more grateful

until next time

A brilliant reminder of a weekend well spent with my friends I call sisters…

a little more poetry

A Poem about a part of speech

prepositions

have been a part of me

since the 6th grade

still remember

like she said I would

that 4 foot 5 inch little teacher

who showed me the world

was at my fingertips

and I could say all the things

by writing

and using

the phrases that would take me

into the future

over that hurdle

through the muck

around the bend

aboard a ship

above the ground

amid the chaos

behind the scenes

between the moments

during the times

inside my mind

under until up upon the ideas

with all the  phrases coming together 

without end

Saturday

weekends when I 

roast beets

eat greens

bake bread

bring joy to my soul

the nesting at home

with Spotify 

going loud and strong

in the background 

typing 

words onto a screen

magazines and books 

strewn across the couch

nothing to do nowhere to go

the post run endorphins

calm my mind

and

fresh squeeze the juice of

creativity

A Moveable Feast

I’ve been a little delayed in posting this; writing it in bits and pieces over the last month. (July 31)

I’m home now from a week in Paris.  This was the first international trip post-pandemic, and it did not disappoint.  It takes some time for it to all settle in….sometimes you can’t even appreciate places like Paris until you are on the edge of leaving.  In that moment, it washes over you - the history, the lights, the sights, the smells, the tastes.  Paris has the most incredible people watching of anywhere in the world.  Beautiful people.  Fashionable people.  People from all over the world.  

it’s going to be a challenge writing about this trip…where to start?  We sucked the life out of that city - so much walking and oohing and aahing and eating and drinking.  Each one of the five senses (and perhaps senses outside of the regular five) was engaged during our trip. Paris delights like no other city - and you leave wanting more and more and more.  Every time I think about the life left in me (hopefully a lot - but who knows?) I think to myself - why would I return to a place I’ve already been? There are so many more places to see.  And then I remember that to go deep beneath the surface you must experience a thing over and over again just like building a fine relationship.  The surface is just the start - when you go deep beneath the surface, seeing all of the good and bad and the nuances of a person or a city - that’s where true love begins.  So, I look forward to a return to Paris one day - I have already started a list of things I want to see and do that we didn’t have time for on this trip, or that I haven’t had time for on previous trips.  Even seeing the same thing(s) again - there is a new view point, a new angle, a new light on the thing that buries itself deeper into your memory, your psyche, and your heart.  

Paris is definitely a city of love.  Love of yourself, of your partner, of beautiful random strangers on the street, of art, of music, of dance, of architecture, of writing, of books, of fashion, of light,  of food, of drink.   There is nothing like walking along the Seine after the sun has set, nothing like the lights of the Eiffel Tower twinkling just for you and few thousand other people, nothing like the lights in the windows of beautiful and humble apartments, nothing like the street lights shining on the dancers in front of the Opera house, the lights shining above a classic Parisian bar or brasserie, the light on Notre Dame as day turns to dusk.  I want to return already and I haven’t even been home for 24 hours.  

I want to remember it all, but my memory isn’t as good as it once was.  I will try to capture some of the highlights, and more importantly, the feelings and sensations of this beautiful city. I picked up a copy of Hemingway’s “A moveable feast”  at the Shakespeare and Company bookstore (I could write pages around how much I love this place) - a new edition that isn’t edited as heavily as earlier publications; representing the experience of his time in Paris.  I’ve been reading it since I woke up this morning, and I want to share a few words from it here because I think it is so spot on and I could never attempt to capture it better with my words. “If you are lucky enough to live in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.”  

This idea of a moveable feast is described further in the foreword as this - “a memory or even a state of being that had become a part of you, a thing that you could have always with you, no matter where you went or how you lived forever after, that you could never lose.  An experience first fixed in time and space or a condition like happiness or love could be afterward moved or carried with you wherever you went in space and time.”  

Ah - the essence of Paris. As you soak all of it in, (sometimes even after you leave it you are still soaking it in) it becomes a part of you  that only you can see it and feel , but Paris is there, in your heart and memory -its images fluttering through your mind and warming your heart. 

I think of the evening we walked home to our airBNB (we not so fondly referred to it as the death trap for its tiny winding staircase big enough for someone the size of Napoleon and its uneven floors causing you to repeatedly trip and even fall because they were so unexpected and not obvious to the eye - more on that later) - tired, with sore feet and a full belly from whichever feast we had that evening….and we happened upon music and dancing on the portico of the Opera building.  This is something we certainly wouldn’t see at home, and it was one of the more lovely sights (and sounds) of our trip.  

We watched, enchanted, as people of all ages dressed in all types of clothing pranced beautifully across the “stage” of sorts, twirling and spinning and perfectly stepping to the music.  This was the most beautiful form of ballroom dancing (with only the “ballroom” of the outdoors surrounding them on this lovely warm Parisian summer night); each person focused upon their own feet, yet so perfectly coordinated with their partner….. I would love to dance like this! (put on the bucket list of things to learn following the French language itself!) It was just a magical moment, an unexpected happenstance - always the very best kind of experience.  Serendipitous, and just the magical boost of energy we needed for the rest of the long walk back to the apartment.  The apartment….how to describe this one??? We had a wonderful love/hate relationship with the place.  Love because it was so very humbly Parisian.  The owner lives there most of the time, so we were surrounded with his things which is simultaneously lovely and creepy.  He is a flea market aficionado - and his place represents his love for old photos and art and Parisian paraphernalia.  The large windows opened fully to the noisy street below - the bar restaurant “Poni” was lively and rambunctious at all hours and cars and motorcycles whizzed by late into the night.   While we had chosen “air conditioning” as a requirement for our airBNB experience….I’d say they took liberty with this feature in that there was only air conditioning UPSTAIRS (up the teeny tiny windy “staircase to heaven” as the owner described).  This was much appreciated at bedtime, but the rest of the time required open windows (challenging with the rain we experienced for the first few days) that forced mostly warm, humid air into the crowded yet wonderfully eclectic space.  There were lamps and strange lightbulbs everywhere - providing a warm glow to the place.  There was a fully stocked if small kitchen - used only by us for storing our water and for multiple espressos each morning.  Paris may be the only city in which I prefer a hotel to an airbnb….because I will never cook there!  There are far too many wonderful cafes and restaurants.  We stayed in this place for three nights, and then in the lovely (more to come later) Brach hotel in the 16th.  Our airBNB in the more bohemian 10th in Montmartre…always a favorite for the artists, the people watching, and one of my favorite beautiful sights,  Sacre Coeur We had a tiny view of the top of Sacre Coeur from the windows in the apartment…glowing like a beacon atop the hill not far from our place.  The light on Sacre Coeur is truly part of the beauty.  Light will be a theme of this trip…the light on Paris at different times of night or day is truly magical.  

I thought I might write a chronological tale of our trip, but instead I think I will write of all of the moments that touched me the most; the love is in the details is one of my favorite sayings, and the love of Paris is in the small wondrous nearly constant moments that move you to laughter or tears in the wake of their beauty.  

I’m writing this in bits and pieces; we’ve been home now for four days and the memories are already starting to fade a bit.  Thank goodness for my iphone photo documentation to remind me of all the wonderful experiences.  Speaking of experiences, one of the things I love to do on a trip is an airbnb experience.  Airbnb isn’t just for rentals anymore; the last time I was in Paris, I did my FIRST airbnb experience which was a wonderful, magical experience with a wonderful chef who led a cooking class on making a simple French meal.  The beauty of the airbnb experience is you typically meet people from all over the world, the events are run by a LOCAL, so they know all the local secrets, and they are things you would NEVER be able to do on your own.  This time we chose two, and honestly, they are always the best part of our trips.  The first was a French wine tasting experience.  I know a lot about CA wine, a little about Italian wine, but literally NOTHING about French wine.  If I”m at a restaurant with only French wine on the list, I’m at a complete loss.  After this awesome experience, I feel confident in choosing wines I will like based upon the region in which they are grown, which is primarily how the French categorize their wines.  This experience was three couples and Erwan, our French winemaster.  He was funny and personable and taught us so much! One other couple was from NY on their honeymoon and the other couple was a guy from Egypt and a woman from Syria (both living and working in Dubai).  They were wonderful people, and it was a true joy to interact with people from other places.  We’ve connected on Instagram and I wouldn’t be surprised if our paths cross again.  I’ve stayed in touch with others I’ve met on previous experiences.  

We sampled five wines from different regions, paired with some charcuterie, and it was a delightful way to spend our anniversary afternoon.  It’s hard to believe a whole year has passed since we eloped in Jenner, CA last year!  It feels so wonderful to be having our first international post-covid (well, mid-covid part two as it turns out….) trip as our anniversary/delayed honeymoon.  We purchased a couple of bottles to share at home as a memory of this experience - perhaps on next year’s anniversary!  

On to a delicious restaurant recommended by a vegetarian friend! We decided to walk the two miles or so to get there. I love all the walking in Paris - down windy little streets, through bustling cafes with people sitting outside drinking and eating and laughing.  One thing I love about Paris cafes is that all of the seats are at small little tables facing outward toward the sidewalk/street to enable the cafe-goers to people watch with the utmost visibility!  There is some amazing people watching in Paris.  We were in the city at at time where there weren’t many Americans (tourism has JUST opened back up), but there is a richly diverse international bunch of people living or traveling here now.  We watched the beautiful fashionably dressed women of all ages walk by - admiring their easeful yet elegant style - both women and men - impeccably dressed and superbly confident.  The French are beautiful people.  period.  Then there are the people from, well, everywhere!  There were many days (I think especially of the last day where we were hustling around all sorts of neighborhoods visiting thrift shops in an effort to find the perfect gifts for Zach….) that we grabbed a seat at a cafe for an espresso and/or a glass of wine (we drank wine like water on this trip - no surprise) and just watched the passersby with delight.  We didn’t need to talk in these moments, but would often comment to each other on the sights and sounds of the neighborhood and the people in it.  

I digress.  Back to the restaurant we were walking to.  Paris is known for its covered passages (Les Passages Couverts), and one of the things on our list was to seek these out.  We didn’t have to as we just stumbled upon them on our walk to dinner.  These were created at the end of the 18th century.  Town planners created this labyrinth of commercial passages that have gorgeous stained glass ceilings, mosaic works, and iron latticeworks - which allows the light (there it is again!) to shine through to the pathway below.  As you stroll through these passageways, they are like an indoor small business mecca - art dealers, antique shops, small cafes, ancient boutiques, and other random shops scattered throughout.  I wish we had hours to peruse…but, alas, we had a dinner reservation! We make it to Maceo, a beautiful restaurant and wine shop.  We are surrounded again by people from all over the world, the menu is small yet delightful and leaning vegetarian which I love.  I loved that I could look at the wine list and know JUST what I might like after the wine tasting experience preceding this meal! We of course started with a glass of champagne, as you do, according to Erwan! (We took this recommendation to heart at every meal thereafter, and I’m confident we will continue this in every country from here on out! Who doesn’t love some bubbles?) The service was impeccable, the surroundings in this gorgeous place were so very French, and the food was simple and delicious.  I can still taste the lovely chilled gazpacho which was my first course.  It was a beautiful experience.  We left feeling way too full, yet very happy, and decided to walk back as well.  By this time, it was dusk and we headed toward the Seine.  There is nothing like walking along the Seine at night!  The lights reflecting on the water, the boats and dinner cruises gently moving back and forth, and allll the people out walking! In the distance we saw the glowing Eiffel Tower and the twinkling lights came on right about then.  We walked awhile and suddenly felt pretty tired and our feet were aching, but we were determined to make it to the Eiffel Tower on this gorgeous night.  (it had been raining on and off for most of our trip, and we were relishing the dry 70 degree evening!)  

About this time, a pedicab (more of a bicycle cab) asked us if we wanted a ride - ahhh, yes! Respite for the weary feet and quicker arrival to the Eiffel tower - we were very tired after a long day of walking and wine drinking! The ride was short, the “driver” very engaging and talkative - asking us what our favorite music was - what we would like him to play and inquiring where we were from, etc.  We asked where he was from - he hesitated and said Poland.  As we neared the Eiffel tower, he pulled over to a dark spot about two blocks away and said the police wouldn’t let him get any closer (warning sign number one)…. then, he pulls out his phone and shows us a screen that says 215 euros is the price for the trip…ummm, it was a 7 minute ride at best.  I laughed and said, “how much is it really”.  He put on a stern face and said “no, my boss will kill me if I don’t collect this”….at that point Robb and I looked at each other like WTF is this? Our only negative experience in Paris and we literally weren’t sure what to do.  Together, we had around this much in euros (who carries much cash? and we found ourselves mentally weighing the options, and in the end…just paid him.  Our lives or wellbeing certainly weren’t worth fighting him over it.  Afterwards we were frustrated and a bit angry, but realized it could have been worse - he could have held us up at gunpoint, he could have threatened us further, who knows? Note to self - never take one of those again. lol.  All’s well that ends well I guess and we took a cab back to our hotel after seeing the twinkling Eiffel tower up close.  We weren’t going to let this taint the rest of our trip. (I’d be lying if it didn’t cross my mind the rest of the trip however and we were on the lookout for scams of any sort moving forward….lessons learned!)

Ah.  The hotel.  What a lovely place to return to.  The Brach Paris may be one of my favorite hotels of all time. It’s in the lovely 16th arrondissement.  The facade is covered in greenery, it has a beautiful restaurant and bar and boasts a rooftop deck with views of the Eiffel Tower.  This isn’t just any rooftop deck, though - it’s actually a garden with fruit trees and vegetables and chickens! There are little seating areas throughout where you can just sit, look at the views and smell the delightful herbs surrounding you.  

The room - high ceilings, deep bathtub, and this delicious smell that is kind of indescribable ( I did buy a bottle of room spray so I could bring it home…my home office now has this aroma…takes me right back there).  Every little touch in this hotel was perfect - beautiful music adjusted with the touch of a button, (check out the Brach Paris playlist on Spotify) ,  crisp perfect sheets, delicious chocolate at turn down….and the croissants!!  A giant basket with coffee delivered to the room each morning.  It was a delightful combination of modern and artistic.   All of these little touches add up to the most wonderful luxurious experience.   I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude every time I walked into that room or woke up after a hard and wonderful sleep and pressed the button to raise the blinds to see the sun rising over this gorgeous city.  

We had numerous stops in beautiful bars and little cafes for an afternoon coffee or glass of wine, sampled the beautiful colorful macarons at Laduree, and wandered through many neighborhoods on foot.  We had one particularly delightful dinner at Frenchie, a small little restaurant recently Michelin starred.  It’s an unassuming small spot on a side street.  When you walk in, you immediately feel embraced.  From the chef on their website -

“When I opened Frenchie, it was to create a place I would want to go to myself and, more importantly, one I would want to go back to again and again. It’s a micro-restaurant, an intimate place where you feel at home. The staff is like a little family. Here, the ingredient has carte blanche. The products we use are what determine the menu, which changes with the seasons. Our ceaselessly evolving cuisine is very instinctive, unstinting and authentic.”

— Greg Marchand

This is such an apt description.  We were given the option of a small table or a seat at the bar/chef’s table - overlooking the prep of each dish.  We chose the latter and so enjoyed watching the plates come together with fresh herbs, beautiful berries, and every delicious summer ingredient you could imagine.  The creativity was brilliant!  Each dish more delicious than the last, tasting like, well…France.  Each served with a beautiful wine that perfectly complimented the dish.  Bubbles and herbs and earth….we left feeling inspired, satisfied, and ready for the live music adventure that Robb had planned for us.  

After perusing the shops nearby and purchasing a couple of beautiful reminders from this trip,   we hopped in a cab and headed to a small music venue for some live jazz.  After over a year of pandemic and no live music, here we were in the heart of Paris…and the experience did not disappoint.   France is doing the whole covid safety thing right - they require proof of vaccination to enter any indoor public venue - so we felt safe in the midst of a small group of people and settled in to listen to some incredible music.  After, we wandered the streets a bit and headed back to the hotel - the Eiffel tower shining in the distance and twinkling just as we drove by it.  

There are so many small delights from this trip - the gorgeous and delicious chocolate croissants and coffee delivered to our room, the endless little side streets with cute shops and cafes, the surprise glass of champagne in the middle of the day, the sound of church bells as we climbed the stairs in Sacre Coeur to look out over the city, the arc-en-ciel (rainbow) that popped through the rainy day, the sudden downpour as we walked through the gorgeous Tuileries Garden by the Louvre - one minute taking photos by the statues, the next huddled under the umbrella of the cafe in the park escaping the rain.  

Time has passed, the details are fuzzy in my memory, but that wonderful “moveable feast” will stay with me forever.  I’m so grateful for this brief respite from our pandemic world, for the reminder that art, architecture, music, food, dance, culture, literature are all so very important to our well being as human beings.  I look forward to our return one day; we barely skimmed the surface of this city, and I’m certain a visit to the French wine country is in our future.  I feel re-energized in the best way - a reminder of just how important it is to travel.

A little poetry

I like to write poetry in the notes section of my phone when I feel a little inspiration. I wrote one on the plane out to California (yay! travel again!) and one while dining alone at a restaurant last night. I tacked a two day “alonecation” onto my friend’s 50th bday weekend and it has been delightful - moving at my own pace, seeing the sights, smelling the smells, reading, writing, and soaking up the California sunshine, fog, and views. I love it here. I rarely share my poems …but here goes.

PANDEMIC AWAKENINGS

A sudden shift

in how we experience our world

from home, home, home

hunkered down

staying safe

staying in

socially distanced

doing less

streaming too much

baking the bread (because we could)

digging deeper

going within

to

bigger

better(?)

more

remembering all the things

going to all the places

happened overnight

it seems

yet months and months in the making

the division

the science

the politics

the inequity

a year of looking all these things in the face

a year of looking within to determine what

we value

we need

we love

we want

making changes along the way to meet our new selves

nice to meet you, self

Waking up and knowing the world is still there

spinning, rotating, breathing, living, dying

and is now 

within reach

what we have longed for is unfolding

the freedom

the joy

the travel

the change

the newness

sometimes still behind the mask

but more and more air to breathe each day

grateful 

for science

grateful

for progress

what we have been through 

is an evolution

we are all little green plants reaching for the sun

our roots firmly entrenched in the soil

but sprouting

bit by bit each day

our tendrils unfolding and preparing for sunlight and rain

and all the things

that we need to grow

And, from last night at dinner

THIS IS WHY I WILL NEVER BE SKINNY

Dinner with my Kindle 

I love how a NAPA cab makes my mouth feel … furry 

Big and then bigger. 

Then that comfortable burn. 

As I look around this restaurant I see a lot of. 

Money 

Whiteness

Except for that one beautiful black couple. Dressed to the nines. Lipstick of red. Fro pulled back into a tight puffy ponytail. 

Coal fired arugula pizza. 

Served with scissors. They should cut it for you at these prices. 

Slices of conversation around me

Relapse?

Super soaker

Talk about Asia 

40 with children

Bungalows and motherhood

Jane Fonda

Bits and pieces of words 

I don’t want the check

I want dessert

Most women here say no to that

Their perfect Marin butts

Pilates twice today I’m sure 

Those jeans just say no to dessert

But fresh peaches in CA?

Over olive oil cake

Sounds like health food 

Just waiting to get in my belly 

Olympic trials 

Cream colored leather jacket

With a high pony tail. 

Red shoes. Red purse 

I want another glass of wine.

For the record, I only had one big beautiful glass of California Cabernet…. it was so delightful and that olive oil cake made me just too full for anything else. :)

Love wins.....even at work!

Last week, I said a wonderful farewell to people I have worked with for seven years. These are some of the best and the brightest people I have ever worked with or known. These are people who are more than colleagues - they have become friends and my “work family”. It was hard to say goodbye; hard to leave the relationships I have been steadily building over time.  It’s always hard to start over, but with starting over comes GROWTH.  With taking a new risk comes stretching myself in a new direction, developing new relationships, broadening my circle of friends and colleagues and LEARNING new things.  I’ve always been strongly motivated by learning and growing.  In every situation, whether there is change or not, there is opportunity for learning, and I have always pushed myself to find places where I grow and develop.   I am extremely grateful for the opportunities I have had to spread my wings at my current company- taking on roles with increasing responsibility, meeting new people, learning new things, developing skills that will help me for a lifetime.  Most of all I am grateful for the PEOPLE I have had the privilege of getting to know on a deep level.   I am also so grateful for the warm send off I had; showing me that all of my hard work and efforts truly paid off in the most important area - deepening my ties and relationships with the people I have interacted with over the past seven years.  We have done some great work together. I have loved getting to know MORE people; that is one of the  upsides of taking on more responsibility as a leader - your sphere of influence increases, you have MORE people from whom to learn , MORE types of people to prove the point that there are a million ways to do things!  This has been one of my most important leadership learnings.  

I think when I was younger I had the notion that there was a right way and a wrong way to do things.  The older and more experienced I have become, I have realized there are SO MANY different styles and ways of doing things, and I have developed a true appreciation for these differences.  I have “stolen” bits and pieces from successful people that I deeply admire, have aligned these things with my own style and beliefs, and have developed a leadership style that truly appreciates and recognizes input from a myriad of different types of people.  One of my favorite quotes is from Lao Tzu - “Live in your strength”…. each individual has their own strengths, and when that person LIVES in their authentic strengths - the WHOLE is made better.

Each job I have had has taught me to look for the strengths in others.  I can see what works, what doesn’t work, and appreciate all of it - either learning how to be or how NOT to be in the process.  I’ve been fortunate in my career to have so many great leaders from whom to learn.  I’ve also seen leadership styles that just don’t work.   The one thing I have learned from all of them is that if you don’t put the people first, you lose.  I had an experience once where I got some feedback (indirect feedback, as in a leader talking about me behind my back and someone else sharing it with me…) that my only problem as a leader was that I “care too much for the people”.  I was taken aback by this for two reasons - 1) because I felt like this was the highest compliment I could ever receive (yay - it’s working!),  and 2) the realization that it wasn’t given as a compliment…… I learned from this moment. I learned to look deeply at something I believe in, examine whether or not it was working, and move forward confidently in the knowledge that it WAS working - evidenced by the success, happiness, and collaborative attitude of my team.

The one thing I have learned in my thirty years in business is that the people are truly everything.  When people feel cared for, loved, and respected, they will climb mountains, jump off cliffs, lean INTO whatever you present to them.  When you have built this kind of trust, you will develop followership, you are able to present ideas and build plans and develop new ways of doing things WITH your team believing in them.  Without this kind of trust, you have a team of self interested, less motivated individuals doing work in a silo.   With this kind of trust, you get people working together toward a common goal WHILE enjoying themselves in the process. Work CAN be fun!

When leaders hold true to their beliefs and values, it helps create the purpose - the WHY behind everything.  Without this WHY , leadership falls flat.   My WHY or my purpose has always been inspiring people to live in their strengths and work from a place of authenticity.  I love to ask people to dig deep, find what motivates them, and be driven forward by that.   Leadership not anchored in a powerful “WHY” will not create followers and will not carry people through challenging times.  The challenging times always come - be it times of hardship or change or evolution of a business model - and if that strong foundation of people feeling cared for and heard hasn’t been developed, it will all fall apart.   Teams comprised of a diverse group of people WIN.  Teams with people who think differently, who feel empowered to speak up, who know that their voice matters literally will move mountains together.  There are times that we just want to tell people to GET ON THE BUS…but without building a foundation of trust and true understanding, people will be riding on their own one person vehicle, and NOT the team bus.  The collaborative efforts WON’T be realized, and goals won’t be met. Recognizing differences, leaning IN to diverse ways of thinking and of doing things, incorporating bits and pieces of VARIOUS ideas into an overall plan is what WORKS.   This type of team building takes time.  It takes concerted effort.  It takes listening.  It takes empathy.  It takes accountability.  Most of all it takes love.  

Love - there are a lot of definitions, but the one I like the most….

The act of caring and giving to someone else. Having someone's best interest and wellbeing as a priority in your life. 

Caring and giving.   Having someone’s BEST interest as a priority.  When you get to know people deeply, you are able to do this.  You are able to figure out what is important to an individual and work toward helping them achieve that; not what’s best for the company, or for you, or even for the overall team, but what is best for the individual.  When you are helping them to meet their individual goals, the team goals will fall into place.  People who feel loved work together for the greater good.  It’s a simple concept, but one that is hard for some to achieve because they think love shouldn’t be part of the workplace, that love should be something only for familial or romantic relationships.  Love works.  Love wins.   Think about the times in your life when you have felt most loved - it is in these moments that you are able to make magic happen.  It is in these moments that the impossible is made possible.  It’s what works in life; it’s what works in business.  People first.   I’m able to start a new adventure in my career knowing that so long as I let love be the guiding light for what I do - be it love for the people I work with, love for our customers, or love for the patients that we serve as team, success and joy will follow. 

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The Light

Yesterday was a really really really good day.  I can’t remember the last time I felt so patriotic, when I felt so hopeful, and when I cried such happy tears.  Democracy and civility have been missing from our world in these United States of America.   Four years with a man who put our nation at risk repeatedly and governed from a place of ego and division rather than a place of community, justice, and principle.  I’m so happy to put those four years behind us.  I burst into tears when J Lo belted out “this land is your land” during the inauguration ceremony.  I was reminded of elementary school when we sang this song, when we saluted the flag every morning with pure innocent reverence, when we believed that we were ONE NATION UNDER GOD INDIVISIBLE WITH LIBERTY AND JUSTICE FOR ALL. I felt that yesterday. I can’t even remember the last time I cried; it’s almost like I have been holding my breath, sucking all the emotions in, and just putting one foot in front of the other.  I feel as if a giant weight has lifted off of my chest, and I can breathe again.

I have quickly grown tired of the “political” discussions both with people I agree with and people I don’t.  At some point along the way, none of it was about politics anymore….it was about WHO ARE WE AS HUMAN BEINGS?  Are we a people that puts up with racism, division, rhetoric, lies, violence?  Or are we the melting pot that I have always dreamed America to be?  Are we a country the recognizes, welcomes and embraces differences? Are we a country in which children can have a vision of a better world, in which children can dream big dreams about their futures, and in which children can go to bed comforted in the fact that they live in a nation that is of the people, by the people, and for the people —- alllllll the people?   The events of 2020 - the pandemic, Black Lives Matter, climate change, inequity…. none of these things have gone away; there is still a tremendous amount of work to be done to address these gigantic problems, but……. I FEEL HOPEFUL.  I feel hopeful that there is now a team in place that recognizes science, that recognizes inequity, that WELCOMES diversity, and that will, to the best of their abilities, address these issues head on.  

The WOMEN yesterday ….wow.  The women.  Kamala Harris - THE FIRST WOMAN VICE PRESIDENT.  - Dr. Jill Biden, Lady Gaga, J. Lo, and, stealing the show - Amanda Gorman, the 22 year old poet laureate, wearing a bright yellow coat, a red hat, and shining brighter than the sun.  Her smile could light up the whole world; her words bold and beautiful. She is inspiration embodied and a vision of what our future looks like.   I want to read and re read and share and post and like and love HER POEM

When day comes we ask ourselves,

where can we find light in this never-ending shade?

The loss we carry,

a sea we must wade

We've braved the belly of the beast

We've learned that quiet isn't always peace

And the norms and notions

of what just is

Isn't always just-ice

And yet the dawn is ours

before we knew it

Somehow we do it

Somehow we've weathered and witnessed

a nation that isn't broken

but simply unfinished

We the successors of a country and a time

Where a skinny Black girl

descended from slaves and raised by a single mother

can dream of becoming president

only to find herself reciting for one

And yes we are far from polished

far from pristine

but that doesn't mean we are

striving to form a union that is perfect

We are striving to forge a union with purpose

To compose a country committed to all cultures, colors, characters and

conditions of man

And so we lift our gazes not to what stands between us

but what stands before us

We close the divide because we know, to put our future first,

we must first put our differences aside

We lay down our arms

so we can reach out our arms

to one another

We seek harm to none and harmony for all

Let the globe, if nothing else, say this is true:

That even as we grieved, we grew

That even as we hurt, we hoped

That even as we tired, we tried

That we'll forever be tied together, victorious

Not because we will never again know defeat

but because we will never again sow division

Scripture tells us to envision

that everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree

And no one shall make them afraid

If we're to live up to our own time

Then victory won't lie in the blade

But in all the bridges we've made

That is the promise to glade

The hill we climb

If only we dare

It's because being American is more than a pride we inherit,

it's the past we step into

and how we repair it

We've seen a force that would shatter our nation

rather than share it

Would destroy our country if it meant delaying democracy

And this effort very nearly succeeded

But while democracy can be periodically delayed

it can never be permanently defeated

In this truth

in this faith we trust

For while we have our eyes on the future

history has its eyes on us

This is the era of just redemption

We feared at its inception

We did not feel prepared to be the heirs

of such a terrifying hour

but within it we found the power

to author a new chapter

To offer hope and laughter to ourselves

So while once we asked,

how could we possibly prevail over catastrophe?

Now we assert

How could catastrophe possibly prevail over us?

We will not march back to what was

but move to what shall be

A country that is bruised but whole,

benevolent but bold,

fierce and free

We will not be turned around

or interrupted by intimidation

because we know our inaction and inertia

will be the inheritance of the next generation

Our blunders become their burdens

But one thing is certain:

If we merge mercy with might,

and might with right,

then love becomes our legacy

and change our children's birthright

So let us leave behind a country

better than the one we were left with

Every breath from my bronze-pounded chest,

we will raise this wounded world into a wondrous one

We will rise from the gold-limbed hills of the west,

we will rise from the windswept northeast

where our forefathers first realized revolution

We will rise from the lake-rimmed cities of the midwestern states,

we will rise from the sunbaked south

We will rebuild, reconcile and recover

and every known nook of our nation and

every corner called our country,

our people diverse and beautiful will emerge,

battered and beautiful

When day comes we step out of the shade,

aflame and unafraid

The new dawn blooms as we free it

For there is always light,

if only we're brave enough to see it

If only we're brave enough to be it

As I digest this over and over, read it aloud,  roll it around on my tongue, I feel the pride of a mother, a woman, a human being, an American.  I feel pride in the incredible diversity and wonder of this country, the United States of America.   I feel the pride that this young woman has found her voice at the wee age of 22, that she, a “skinny black girl” as she describes herself has so much compassion and passion and confidence and conviction and love AT HER VERY CORE in spite of everything, and I FEEL HOPE.  I feel an overwhelming gratitude that our world can be a better place for the next generation, even for my own generation.  FOR THERE IS ALWAYS LIGHT, IF ONLY WE’RE BRAVE ENOUGH TO SEE IT.  IF ONLY WE’RE BRAVE ENOUGH TO BE IT.  

ONISM

https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2021/01/08/briefing/the-weekender.html  Take the time to check these out -this NY Times article gave me such joy this morning -scrolling through all the places, seeing the pictures, reading the descriptions of how these places made people FEEL.  I love that every place has a feeling; every place evokes reminders of what was happening in your life, who you were with, how you experienced it.  The same place at different times can be two incredibly different experiences.   I think of my Italy trip with my girlfriends for my 50th, and then a few months later with my son - both amazing, incredibly different experiences - even though I visited many of the same places.  You get to see places through a different lens.  Portugal with just my kids - SO many memories; I recall how nervous I was driving and being unable to read the signs - I was literally sweating. Then I think of the compassion I felt from my kids in these moments. I was testy with them, but they understood; they saw my raw fear and uncertainty and then got to watch me overcome it. I think of the wind nearly blowing us off the cliff in Sagres - the edge of the world. I think of Wilson’s steady diet of french fries on that trip as well as his obsession with Ronaldo soccer jerseys. I think about the many California trips I take - and I taste them again in the wine I’ve brought home. I think about listening to Norah Jones on repeat in a cute little cabin in Highlands, NC while reading books and writing. Traveling with people or traveling alone - so many wonderful memories and feelings arise when I think about these special places.

This article made me think about alllll these remote and wonderful places I want to go.  It’s a big wide world out there, and as I near the age of 53, I realize there is only SO much time left to see the world.  I had a big travel year planned for 2020 - then covid hit.  One less year (or more) to see the world.  I’ve been feeling particularly restless the last few days.  I think we all managed 2020 in different ways; for me it was “just live in the now and get to the next thing”….the next work milestone, the next long weekend, the next day with fewer zooms, the next socially distanced get together with friends around the fire pit.  I feel bad complaining about a lack of travel - speaks to my abundance of privilege - there are many people out of work, homeless, struggling, sick… I’m grateful for all that have, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t missing travel.  I know it will be all the sweeter when we can travel freely again.

I miss that feeling you get when you land in a foreign country - that feeling of anonymity, that anticipation of surprise and wonder.   I miss the smell of different air, a different climate, a different sensation for my tastebuds, different sounds and smells.  

I keep trying to placate myself with small drivable safe weekend trips.  Mountains, beach, something near enough yet far enough, a place where more time is spent outdoors than indoors - hiking, walking, exploring nature. I’m counting down the days until we are vaccinated, until cities and countries start to open back up to me. Our time is limited.  Covid has made me realize this all the more.  I think about people who work and work and work their whole lives and never take a vacation - squirreling away their money for retirement, for “someday when”… I understand it on one level (safety and security), but then I think about the people who do this and then get some horrible disease or cancer at the age of 60, just as they are about to “live” ….and their someday never comes to fruition.  We aren’t guaranteed another day. We only have right here and right now….This doesn’t mean I don’t believe in saving money or planning for the future…but it does mean I think I need to strike a balance between living in the now and planning for the future.  I have a “favorite word” board on Pinterest - this is one of them.  Onism.  It’s a sad word in many ways, but it’s also a motivating word.  It makes me want to plan a trip.  Life is short.  Go see the world.  

Alonecation

I’m on my second “alonecation” since the pandemic.  In a normal year, I spend a lot of time on the road for work - TOO much time, really.  However, I have realized during this time at home just how good it is to have a little time away.  It’s important to have time to capture your own thoughts, to do your own thing, to not hear other people breathing and chewing, to MISS people,  and to just have a change of scenery.  I love my people dearly - but I also love some time alone.  I’m an only child; that may have something to do with it.  My friends with multiple siblings or who enjoy people around all the time look at me like I’m a nut job when I say I’m heading out for an “alonecation”. They wonder if my relationship is ok, if I’m struggling with something, or if I’m just selfish.  It makes me giggle a little bit because the time alone is what helps me keep it all together.  The time alone is what allows me to go 100 miles an hour, juggle so many things, multitask like a mofo, and keep going like the energizer bunny.  I’ve discovered in my old(er) age that I am an extroverted introvert.  I love being around people -until I don’t.  The being around people these days includes zoom meeting after zoom meeting - same thing, even less satisfying.  

I’ve decided to commit to an alonecation each quarter; especially now that I can work from anywhere.  I can take my work with me and/or take time off or just enjoy a weekend.  Either way, it grounds me.  It makes me remember who I am.  I get to spend every second of every day dong exactly what I want to do.  Last night involved watching a really bad Hallmark movie type show on Netflix - with a great glass of wine (or two). Today involved reading poetry, running, making myself a beautiful breakfast and drinking 5 (!) cups of coffee.  I enjoyed a solitary sunrise on the beach.  I enjoyed watching the light flicker over the dunes.  I watched a cargo ship pass a solitary sailboat on the horizon.  (I wonder what it felt like to be on that little boat in the wake of that giant ship!) In my day to day world, I never get to think about these things.  I never get the huge chunks of creative time where I can fill my soul with poetry, my body with exactly what I want to eat when I want to eat it, and my mind with random thoughts that have the space to live and breathe without interruption.  I think that’s really part of it.  When we are all sharing one space, it’s hard to not interrupt or be interrupted by others.  I may be deep in thought…and the dog barks, the doorbell rings, someone asks me a question, or my teenager demands food yet again —-didn’t I JUST MAKE FOOD and clean the kitchen five minutes ago? 

I struggle with the mom guilt a bit - but then I remember I have been mothering for 27 years….it’s ok to have a few days alone.  I’m pretty sure I’ve earned it.  I’m pretty sure marriages could be saved, fights stopped, and relationships healed if everyone took the time that they need.  I am so grateful that my husband (still not used to that after 7 years of “partner”) just gets me.  He sent me off with chocolate and cheese and crackers and flowers - knowing I would return happy and whole - knowing I’m not escaping him; I”m finding me.  Weird that it took me 50 years to discover this about myself.  

I went to Tulum with a friend four years ago; we each appreciate our alone time, got separate rooms, and had a great time together and separately.  I met a group of women on that trip - the place I stayed was having a “bikini bootcamp” - imagine work out meets meditation meets massage meets healthy living.  This group of women (and one man) was a super interesting bunch of people, and we loved sharing a meal with them and dipping our toe in their bootcamp with an occasional yoga class and massage. (we didn’t partake in the multiple workouts a day; unless you consider multiple glasses of sauvignon blanc and ceviche in the late afternoon to be a workout….).  I like balance like that.  Anyway, one of the women was there by herself; most of the others were paired up with friends or partners.  At first I thought - oh that’s sad, she’s all alone.  Then she told me she takes at least one “alone moon” a year - to reconnect with herself and do what she wants without the influence/wants/needs of other people.  WOW.  I thought to myself - she is ON TO SOMETHING.  How many times have I been on a vacation and wished for just a little time to myself?   I have since incorporated this into my life plan.  It has been without a doubt one of the best gifts I’ve ever given myself.  

My traveling alone started several years ago with a trip to Paris - read about it in previous post “just four days in Paris”. I spent a few days in the cutest little apartment under the redwoods in my favorite place - Mill Valley, CA.   I read poetry and ate sourdough and went for long hikes.  I spent a long weekend in Highlands, NC - listening to albums (went home and bought a record player!), enjoying local art, wine tasting at the wine shoppe, reading books, smelling fresh mountain air, reading and writing. Now I’m on Tybee Island, GA - a tiny little rustic island four hours from Atlanta in an adorable little beach cottage.  I had a day of work which somehow seemed more fun in a new location, drank some wine, ate some delicious takeout (pandemic….the people here don’t seem to take it that seriously, so just staying in), and listened to music by the pool in the adorably landscaped backyard.  I did some yoga on the screened in porch,  and now I’m sitting outside writing with the music blaring.  I’d feel guilty about blaring it with neighbors around; however, since they were running a tile saw (imagine loud screech every 5 minutes for about 20 seconds) until midnight last night….I’m not too concerned about annoying them.  At least the music is a pleasant sound! 

Somehow all the little signs of wonder are so much more obvious when I’m alone like this.  I notice the birds on the beach - varying kinds, large and small, graceful as they take flight together…. I notice the words to the songs I’m listening to, I’m in touch with the aches and pains in my body and stretch accordingly, and I am present with the sights, sounds, smells, and tastes of the beauty right in front of me.  I notice the pretty fabric on the slipcover, the colorful accessories placed around this house, the sand between my toes.  I will attempt to weave this into my real world at home - the wonder right in front of me.  I don’t even realize I’ve forgotten to do this until I’m away.  

Goals today - bike ride around island, read, maybe drive into Savannah for an early dinner,  a little wine, and a fire in the fire pit tonight.  I imagine I will wind up watching the really really bad TV show I am somehow sucked in to when I tuck myself into bed tonight.  I’m hoping the screeching next door stops a little earlier (maybe I will add buy earplugs to my to do list).   

Tomorrow morning I will awaken for the sunrise, enjoy a long walk on the beach,  drink a few cups of coffee, and then I will head home, reunite with the people I love so much, and breathe a little easier having leaned into me and having scratched the itch of a little bit of travel.   Here’s the playlist I’ve been listening to - ENJOY! (and take an alonecation —- it will change your life!) 

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7nj0kCr5i1emcwGzHfAkR4?si=GPphs4PeTeqMEdjac0dS9w