Look it up...
I think maybe if I moved to a small island country I could beach all day and write all night. Become the writer that I plan on being. 2 Blogs in 24 hours is quite a bit. Even by my standards. But I need to blog the thoughts that are chasing each other.
Do you ever feel like your best laid plans have plans of their own? Plans that you have no idea that are being hatched yet seem impossible to prevent? I do. Being alone the past 4 days has taught me that I really don't want to be alone. I think. I mean maybe it's the solitude talking. I had a stellar day. Rain forests and buying and mofongo and beach and reading. On the tour I was applauded as a woman traveling alone. Apparently it takes guts. Or a lack of sanity. Point is it's been a great day.
I had always thought that once I have the freedom that the next year will bring I would enjoy the feeling of flying. This trip has taught me that maybe I am wrong. In all of this adventuring all I can think is this would be prefect if- X/Y/ or Z were here. Or the stinks. Especially the stinks. Maybe I'm not as content with solitude as I think I am.
Back home I am perpetually busy. Friends and family and work and ministry creates a wonderful patch work quilt quality to my life. What I recognized today was that it's the people that I surround myself with that make it all so rich. Now cognitively I already knew this. But something in me just thought that maybe I was a little less tied to my life than I am. I had failed to understand it emotionally.
I realized today that no matter where you live life is just life. The Uber drivers in Puerto Rico all agree on one thing- that they like the island ok. To them it's just another day at work. I thought about that deeply. It's never the what, it's always the who. Always. Again, cognitively I know this, I know that life is about relationships. For some reason though I had fooled myself into thinking that that rule didn't apply to me. Probably because my life is rich with relationships and until removed it was easy to underestimate their power.
What does this mean? Well it means that moving to an island to isolate myself is probably out. Interestingly it wasn't the English hall that needs help in this Spanish speaking land. It's Arabic and Chinese. How is that for irony? If I'm going to be helping Arabic I may as well stay where I am at. That lesson struck home like a sack of bricks to the chest last night. It's funny how Jehovah continues to remind me of how little I know.
It means that solo vacations are probably not a thing anymore. This was a powerful reminder that I need people in my life. I gain strength in the sharing of the experience. It's not that I can't do it alone, it's that I don't have to and I really don't want to anymore.
It means that I need to revisit my timeline when it comes to relationships. Again, it's not that I can't be alone. It's that I no longer think that I prefer to. That's a big statement. Huge. Especially for me who had forsaken the cumbersome nature of relationships. It is none-the-less true that the time has come. Much to my dismay. I thought that I had a few more years of pretending that it didn't matter. This has changed that.
There is regularly this point in my life when I have to be honest with myself about my life and my life choices. It always stings. Always. Probably because I'm so busy running around I don't stop to listen internally and I can ignore the really big questions. 4 days looking at the ocean really gives you perspective. You ask yourself questions like-
What really matters to me?
Is what I want attainable?
Is it probable?
Am I more scared of success or failure?
Am I willing to risk?
*Sigh* That last one is the biggest one. Am I willing to risk? Risk being wrong? Risk being right? Risk being vulnerable? Risk the fact that you can never know the end of the matter until after it's over? Risk letting another person into my life? Risk the courage that it takes to be connected to somewhere and something? But even more than that - am I willing to risk not trying at all? Me being me the obvious answer to that last one is no, of course not.
And with honest answers you move forward. I have accomplished every single thing that I have wanted to utilizing my own two hands. I will have no regrets that I missed out on something. It's time to move forward with the next phase of my life.
Darn it. I really thought I had more time left.
But okay.
It is what it is.
Mutatis Mutandis
Friday, December 30, 2016
Thursday, December 29, 2016
A Proper Thank You
I just spent the entire Uber ride speaking in Spanish. I just spent. The. Entire. Uber ride. Speaking in Spanish. Because I'm in Puerto Rico. Obvi.
Begin at the Beginning.
When I was 14 or 15 a movie named "Only You" came out. It starred Marissa Tome and Robert Downy Jr. and was essentially about a lady running all over Italy to find her true love. I fell in love with Italy through that movie and it became my life's ambition at 14 or 15 to go to Italy. I didn't know how- I didn't know when but I KNEW that my soul belonged in Italy and I owed it to myself to get there.
I planned. I plotted. I waited. I went.
I remember vividly getting out of the cab in Milano and engaging in a shouting match with the cabbie because the whole ride I had asked him in Italian, "Quanto costa?" and he refused to answer me. Then when we were disembarking he named a price that only a really dumb American would pay.
Side Note: I had decided then and still believe that it's only polite to have a working knowledge of the language of the country to which you visit. I am fully aware that most of the world has a workable knowledge of English. But it just seems rude to presume. Kinda like when you go to someone's house- you should offer to take off your shoes. Most of the time they don't care but sometimes someone cares a lot. As a person who prefers shoes off I always appreciate the question and the follow through... So in Italy I speak Italian. In Germany I speak German. In Mexico I speak Spanish. In Switzerland- you get the drift. I usually respond to people in the language in which they first speak to me so often it is unnecessary to use my languages but it's there if I need it. Like a secret super power.
Needless to say, I did not pay the fare the cabbie was asking. We had researched cost beforehand and knew the price. I remember that after the heated "discussion" we tossed the lira into the cab and walked into the hotel. Scared and young. Did I mention I had just turned 19? But the cabbie went away and we checked in.
We had flown all night and were exhausted. We got the keys and climbed the stairs. We went in the room and deposited the luggage on the- well, floor. 19 remember? Then I went to the window to look out over the piazza. As I opened the windows I recognized that they had no screens. Windows in Italy do not have screens. (Actually generally no screens in Europe but I didn't know that yet.) So I leaned out. Some man whistled and I hurriedly pulled back in. I looked at Kristie fell upon the bed in a fit of giggles.
It was about more than the stereo-typical Italian man. More than the windows and the victory with the cabbie. It was about achieving a dream. This thing that I had so badly wanted, I had done. I laid in that bed in Milan at 19 and thought- I can do anything. Anything. If I just try hard enough. I can make my dreams come true. I can, I just did. So I laughed some more. It was such a rush.
That moment in my life has sustained me and empowered me to live the life I have imagined. And I hadn't felt that feeling again, until recently.
I have spent the next decade or so being a really responsible adult. Even my fun times are sprinkled with a restraint of knowing the weight of my responsibilities. Which is ok. I choose my responsibilities and I would never shirk them. But I have never felt as free as I did in that moment. Or as powerful.
Recently my life has begun to evolve. I found myself sans kids, dog sitter available, time on my hands and the means to do as I please. I have worked hard to be in this position so it's only envious if you completely discount the years of incredibly hard work that went into making it happen.
I was at home. Bored. And faced with a week of nothing to do. I don't do well when bored. I over-think my life and come to strange decisions. So I text a friend and asked what he would do if he were in my position. What he said was magic (well after the not magic :)). He said, "Do what you have always wanted."
Every winter break since I started teaching I have fantasized about leaving the chill of Colorado behind, finding an island paradise and doing nothing more strenuous than staring at the ocean all day. Maybe turning a page or so in a book. Definitely lifting a rum laced drink to my mouth. But no more. No less. Just me and sand and sun and surf and Sangria. I explained this to said friend, expecting the usual cautions that one gets when one is young-ish and female and single. I got none of that. Instead I was indulged in the conversation. "Where would you go?" I was already googling.
I don't know if he thought I was serious or not. He doesn't really know me well enough to realize that I am of action. Possibly he wasn't really even paying rapt attention to the conversation. Doesn't matter. What matters is that he didn't laugh. On the contrary, he came up with a great destination after my research and dismissal of several islands.
"What about Puerto Rico?" 10:11
"Hadn't looked yet" 10:11
"This is a great idea!! Do you recommend any place in particular?" 10:18
"San Juan" 10:32
"I did it :o" 11:09
I was on the plane less than 24 hours later in in San Juan less than 36 hours after that. Everyone else was slightly shocked and a bit appalled; issuing all of the normal dire warnings given the circumstances. But I was happy.
I had an early morning lay over in Miami and as I was getting ready to board the plane I got that feeling again. The Italy one. The realization of a dream one. It feels like champagne on the inside. You are both as light as a bubble and as invincible as a rock. You are your dream realized. No holds bar. All I could do was laugh. Again. Then laugh some more. It tickles on the inside.
I would not have had the guts to do this thing had it not been for that conversation. There is something to be said for someone that just indulges your dreams, without stepping on them, that needs to be applauded. Said friend has not once told me to "be safe" or "be careful" only to "enjoy" and "have fun". I'm so grateful for that. It's a given that I will be careful and safe, it is a gift to just be able to have fun and enjoy myself.
I have gotten to do this thing that I always wanted to do and maybe wouldn't have done. Beyond that I got to feel that feeling again. While the beach and books are great, it is about so much more than that. It is about remembering that dreams still can come true. Especially when you have the right pixie on your shoulder. The one that empowers you to remember your power.
There is not much that I can give said person, him being so well put together and all. But what I have best is what I have always had- my words. So I want to say thank you, in true AmBri fashion, with a story that deeply underscores the gift that you gave me. I wanted to explain why what you did was so amazing, whether you realized it or not. It's not everyday that someone gets to support someone else in making life's best moments happen. But you did. And I am grateful. So much so that it merits a Blog.
So to You- a Proper Thank You.
Thank you.
A
Begin at the Beginning.
When I was 14 or 15 a movie named "Only You" came out. It starred Marissa Tome and Robert Downy Jr. and was essentially about a lady running all over Italy to find her true love. I fell in love with Italy through that movie and it became my life's ambition at 14 or 15 to go to Italy. I didn't know how- I didn't know when but I KNEW that my soul belonged in Italy and I owed it to myself to get there.
I planned. I plotted. I waited. I went.
I remember vividly getting out of the cab in Milano and engaging in a shouting match with the cabbie because the whole ride I had asked him in Italian, "Quanto costa?" and he refused to answer me. Then when we were disembarking he named a price that only a really dumb American would pay.
Side Note: I had decided then and still believe that it's only polite to have a working knowledge of the language of the country to which you visit. I am fully aware that most of the world has a workable knowledge of English. But it just seems rude to presume. Kinda like when you go to someone's house- you should offer to take off your shoes. Most of the time they don't care but sometimes someone cares a lot. As a person who prefers shoes off I always appreciate the question and the follow through... So in Italy I speak Italian. In Germany I speak German. In Mexico I speak Spanish. In Switzerland- you get the drift. I usually respond to people in the language in which they first speak to me so often it is unnecessary to use my languages but it's there if I need it. Like a secret super power.
Needless to say, I did not pay the fare the cabbie was asking. We had researched cost beforehand and knew the price. I remember that after the heated "discussion" we tossed the lira into the cab and walked into the hotel. Scared and young. Did I mention I had just turned 19? But the cabbie went away and we checked in.
We had flown all night and were exhausted. We got the keys and climbed the stairs. We went in the room and deposited the luggage on the- well, floor. 19 remember? Then I went to the window to look out over the piazza. As I opened the windows I recognized that they had no screens. Windows in Italy do not have screens. (Actually generally no screens in Europe but I didn't know that yet.) So I leaned out. Some man whistled and I hurriedly pulled back in. I looked at Kristie fell upon the bed in a fit of giggles.
It was about more than the stereo-typical Italian man. More than the windows and the victory with the cabbie. It was about achieving a dream. This thing that I had so badly wanted, I had done. I laid in that bed in Milan at 19 and thought- I can do anything. Anything. If I just try hard enough. I can make my dreams come true. I can, I just did. So I laughed some more. It was such a rush.
That moment in my life has sustained me and empowered me to live the life I have imagined. And I hadn't felt that feeling again, until recently.
I have spent the next decade or so being a really responsible adult. Even my fun times are sprinkled with a restraint of knowing the weight of my responsibilities. Which is ok. I choose my responsibilities and I would never shirk them. But I have never felt as free as I did in that moment. Or as powerful.
Recently my life has begun to evolve. I found myself sans kids, dog sitter available, time on my hands and the means to do as I please. I have worked hard to be in this position so it's only envious if you completely discount the years of incredibly hard work that went into making it happen.
I was at home. Bored. And faced with a week of nothing to do. I don't do well when bored. I over-think my life and come to strange decisions. So I text a friend and asked what he would do if he were in my position. What he said was magic (well after the not magic :)). He said, "Do what you have always wanted."
Every winter break since I started teaching I have fantasized about leaving the chill of Colorado behind, finding an island paradise and doing nothing more strenuous than staring at the ocean all day. Maybe turning a page or so in a book. Definitely lifting a rum laced drink to my mouth. But no more. No less. Just me and sand and sun and surf and Sangria. I explained this to said friend, expecting the usual cautions that one gets when one is young-ish and female and single. I got none of that. Instead I was indulged in the conversation. "Where would you go?" I was already googling.
I don't know if he thought I was serious or not. He doesn't really know me well enough to realize that I am of action. Possibly he wasn't really even paying rapt attention to the conversation. Doesn't matter. What matters is that he didn't laugh. On the contrary, he came up with a great destination after my research and dismissal of several islands.
"What about Puerto Rico?" 10:11
"Hadn't looked yet" 10:11
"This is a great idea!! Do you recommend any place in particular?" 10:18
"San Juan" 10:32
"I did it :o" 11:09
I was on the plane less than 24 hours later in in San Juan less than 36 hours after that. Everyone else was slightly shocked and a bit appalled; issuing all of the normal dire warnings given the circumstances. But I was happy.
I had an early morning lay over in Miami and as I was getting ready to board the plane I got that feeling again. The Italy one. The realization of a dream one. It feels like champagne on the inside. You are both as light as a bubble and as invincible as a rock. You are your dream realized. No holds bar. All I could do was laugh. Again. Then laugh some more. It tickles on the inside.
I would not have had the guts to do this thing had it not been for that conversation. There is something to be said for someone that just indulges your dreams, without stepping on them, that needs to be applauded. Said friend has not once told me to "be safe" or "be careful" only to "enjoy" and "have fun". I'm so grateful for that. It's a given that I will be careful and safe, it is a gift to just be able to have fun and enjoy myself.
I have gotten to do this thing that I always wanted to do and maybe wouldn't have done. Beyond that I got to feel that feeling again. While the beach and books are great, it is about so much more than that. It is about remembering that dreams still can come true. Especially when you have the right pixie on your shoulder. The one that empowers you to remember your power.
There is not much that I can give said person, him being so well put together and all. But what I have best is what I have always had- my words. So I want to say thank you, in true AmBri fashion, with a story that deeply underscores the gift that you gave me. I wanted to explain why what you did was so amazing, whether you realized it or not. It's not everyday that someone gets to support someone else in making life's best moments happen. But you did. And I am grateful. So much so that it merits a Blog.
So to You- a Proper Thank You.
Thank you.
A
Friday, December 23, 2016
My Mama
I have been spending a lot of time thinking about relationships. The complexity of them. How they impact you and how you are shaped by the hands that have touched you. Our lives are a series of relationships. Do we exist because they do?
My Mom is both my harshest critic and my loudest cheerleader. I know that she loves me unequivocally. I know this because I tested the theory. She has loved me at my best and loved me at my worst. She has loved me through my successes and through my failures. She has loved me when all she could do was cry over situations that I had put myself in. I have never doubted how much I am loved. Not ever once.
That does not mean, however, that she agrees with my decisions nor my philosophies on life. Most of the time she disagrees. Loudly. Well, not loudly, my Mom never yells. I have never heard her yell. The angrier she is the quieter she gets. You know she's really pissed because she won't speak at all.
Interestingly, this doesn't really bother me because she also raised me to not seek her approval; in both covert and overt ways. My life has always been mine to live. It was coached to us daily to be aware of our power to choose our paths.
I was raised to take chances. My Mom's tag line to her email is, "Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined." by Thoreau. My sister says that because I'm the baby girl I take risks knowing that someone will always swoop in to save me. She is probably right. I would never go hungry, I would never go thirsty, I would never go without. I also can say, with no small amount of data, that I would never put myself in the kind of position that would find me homeless, hungry or thirsty. I was raised to well for that. (I get much joy pointing out to my sister that I didn't spoil myself - she spoiled me horrifically- so she can't be mad at me for that.)
Conversely, after giving her opinions on my life choices (usually the disagreeable kind), my Mom also fights with me in the trenches in unexpected ways. When my sister got married I decided to console myself by going to Europe with another friend. I had saved just enough money to not have enough. After a lecture on fiscal responsibility and how I have no real business in Europe alone at 18, she gave me the rest of the money. I did not sleep while putting myself though college as a single Mom, working full time, & in the full time ministry. Yet, nor did I shop for or buy my kids a stitch of clothing until after I had my degree and a full 2 years of employment under my belt. Both because I was broke and because I really hate shopping. Between my Mom and my sister, my kids also never knew what it was to have to go to daycare during that chaotic time.
She's never really proud of me either. Not in the manner that most kids expect. Whenever I accomplish something she just kinda gives me this look like- well, what did you expect? I told you you can do anything you put your mind to. I am spoiled but not coddled. More often than not I'm mostly just taken to task.
It was good though, I wasn't raised looking for approval from an external source.
Yet- yet when I need an honest opinion, someone who won't pull any punches and won't sugarcoat and will find all the cracks I miss- I call my Mama. Then I usually ignore her advice and do what I feel like doing. To which she shakes her head, rolls her eyes and goes on about her business. What a great relationship.
Looking from the outside in it's really hard to understand my relationship with my Mom and we don't bother trying to explain it. No ones business and all. I've just been thinking about what has shaped me- who has shaped me. I think my single biggest influence has been my Mom.
But dear God- Don't tell her. I'll never live it down.
Actually, she wouldn't say a word but I would get The Look. You know the, "Yes I've been right all along and you're very welcome I didn't suffocate you when I had the chance and you deserved it" look. Actually, she probably wouldn't do that either. She would probably shrug, nod, and keep it pushin. Understanding that at the end of the day raising me to be me means letting me be me.
And not losing any sleep over it.
Well done Mom.
Thursday, December 8, 2016
On Belonging Both Nowhere and Everywhere
I cannot start this blog without saying how grateful I am for my blog. I love my blog. I love my echo. My space to speak to no one at all. It's nice to know that there is a place that I can go and have my echos echo, chase each other a bit then echo some more.
Life is so interesting. While I talk a lot it's usually as a cover for observing. Watching people and their faces and their eyes and their interactions- every face, every expression tells a story. Reflects a thought. Peoples faces are ultimately the best books available.
I realized as I watched faces tonight that I'm evolving again. As most people get older they get more... settled /stable /solid /predictable which in my mind is roughly equatable to boring/ boring /and a bit more boring. I still have an itch to scratch. I am still excited about the next adventure and the next one after that. As I get older I am getting more restless /unfettered /spontaneous. And I like it.
I am almost 50, in spite of losing that particular debate (hats off to the winner- well played), this is still a statement that I stand behind. And what I realize is that I am not looking for the white picket, 2.5, house and a dog thing anymore. I kinda did that. Well I actually did that. Enjoyably. Had the winds of choice shifted another way I would still be doing that thing. I find it odd that while I was married I was thankful that I wasn't single and since I am single I am thankful that I am not married. Who knows what that says about me.
Don't get me wrong- there are specific aspects of coupledom that I miss.Very specific things. But, well somethings you can't do anything about...
Back to the almost 50 bit because this blog isn't quite saying what I need it to say.... At almost 50 I am making plans to destabilize my life. In complete social dichotomy because most people around me are trying their darnedest to solidify theirs. At 50 people know their place in the world, have their "things" but I, I just want to fly.
It is arrogant of me to feel sorry for them, yet I do. I know what it is to raise babies and take care of a house and take care of a husband and have weekly golf dates with your couple friends and have your space in the world. To be a part of somewhere.
I'm not sure which gypsy in me has sold me on this idea that by being a part of nothing I can be a part of everything. And that as a part of everything I will have responsibility to nothing. By being everywhere I can be obligated to nowhere. And by being tied to nowhere I can go everywhere. The part of me that reads psychology books fears I perhaps have a social disorder. The part of me that reads Stephanie Plume novels seems to think it all makes sense, even if another car gets blown up.
That is what I really want right now. To belong to everything and nothing. Hummm, maybe I'm having a mid-life crisis. I am almost 50 ya know.
Good of time as any to have a mid-life crisis.
Dewberry
Life is so interesting. While I talk a lot it's usually as a cover for observing. Watching people and their faces and their eyes and their interactions- every face, every expression tells a story. Reflects a thought. Peoples faces are ultimately the best books available.
I realized as I watched faces tonight that I'm evolving again. As most people get older they get more... settled /stable /solid /predictable which in my mind is roughly equatable to boring/ boring /and a bit more boring. I still have an itch to scratch. I am still excited about the next adventure and the next one after that. As I get older I am getting more restless /unfettered /spontaneous. And I like it.
I am almost 50, in spite of losing that particular debate (hats off to the winner- well played), this is still a statement that I stand behind. And what I realize is that I am not looking for the white picket, 2.5, house and a dog thing anymore. I kinda did that. Well I actually did that. Enjoyably. Had the winds of choice shifted another way I would still be doing that thing. I find it odd that while I was married I was thankful that I wasn't single and since I am single I am thankful that I am not married. Who knows what that says about me.
Don't get me wrong- there are specific aspects of coupledom that I miss.Very specific things. But, well somethings you can't do anything about...
Back to the almost 50 bit because this blog isn't quite saying what I need it to say.... At almost 50 I am making plans to destabilize my life. In complete social dichotomy because most people around me are trying their darnedest to solidify theirs. At 50 people know their place in the world, have their "things" but I, I just want to fly.
It is arrogant of me to feel sorry for them, yet I do. I know what it is to raise babies and take care of a house and take care of a husband and have weekly golf dates with your couple friends and have your space in the world. To be a part of somewhere.
I'm not sure which gypsy in me has sold me on this idea that by being a part of nothing I can be a part of everything. And that as a part of everything I will have responsibility to nothing. By being everywhere I can be obligated to nowhere. And by being tied to nowhere I can go everywhere. The part of me that reads psychology books fears I perhaps have a social disorder. The part of me that reads Stephanie Plume novels seems to think it all makes sense, even if another car gets blown up.
That is what I really want right now. To belong to everything and nothing. Hummm, maybe I'm having a mid-life crisis. I am almost 50 ya know.
Good of time as any to have a mid-life crisis.
Dewberry
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)