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Time to wind down

Ok, I’ve been struggling and by the way, who isn’t these days. I’ve sat down to write on several occasions and have come up with nothing. Oh, there are topics that I think are interesting that when I re-read appear shallow, vapid, and entitled. Who wants to hear the apparent struggles of a white, middle (ok, older) aged woman, well retired living beachside? See, doesn’t make sense. I’m thinking my thoughts would make better copy as no public journal entries.

I decided that it’s time to start the digital shutdown process.  This site started to document my journeys, navigate the world while learning about the world and myself. It has been a great experience, showcasing the challenges and sheer happiness of exploring the world one country at time. Then life started to take over, all positive. I met someone extraordinary, and we continued to charter new territory together. I cut ties with corporate life and gradually started to fall off the map. I studied yoga. I practiced yoga. I even have a few classes online too. I learned how to meditate. I stopped wearing high heeled shoes and dying my hair. I felt free!

Then I got sick.

Initially I thought, it was because I slowed way down only to find that the leading culprit may have been decades of relentless deadline induced stress. Then my partner got sick, much sicker than me, chemo and surgery sick. And for the first time in my life:  I was afraid. When the world shut down, we were in the throngs of hospital stays, doc visits and tests- lots of tests. The pandemic provided the perfect veil for confinement, sleep and healing. We both needed to physically heal. My stomach got better; he got more chemo.

Due to the lockdowns, we did get excellent healthcare support. People weren’t doing maintenance health checks; people were terrified about the virus. We were still permitted to get medical care and we did: oncologists, neurosurgeons, cardiologists, gastroenterologists, transplant specialists. Needless to say, our vocabularies have expanded. We embarked on a journey of another kind. This one didn’t warn of the pitfalls of what to order in a Portuguese café (I always go for sardines), it was grim. It was sad and it initially appeared quite final. Cancer isn’t on anyone’s bucket list!

It appears that we’re on a different type of journey now

We got good test results last week: No Residual Disease (NRD). NRD is what every blood cancer patient wants. Certain types of blood cancers are insidious; they ebb and flow yet never go away. NRD is how we know it’s ebbed. It’s never forever, but it is for now. And for that we celebrate. The wish is that the ebb can get us to the next level disease breakthrough. And that’s what we’re going to do. Live life, try to live it as fully and we can. Maybe there will be more interesting things to write about again.

Lotus teaches us that ‘no mud, no flower’……
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The Gift of the Great Pause

Maybe we need to flip the narrative…? Rather than being a prisoner of the virus and all that surrounds it, why not take it that you have been granted a 9 month sabbatical from life as you knew it. What would you do? How would you handle it?

Raise your bar a bit…

I’ve decided for the sake of my mental health instead of viewing this as highly restrictive, I’m going to approach it from a different way. Isn’t that what problem solving is about? It appears that the novelty of being at home, being restricted has worn off and it’s left me binge watching vapid television, believing that newscasters are my friends and consuming my body weight in Christmas cookies and other gluten-free baked goods. I felt a bit of excitement with the rollout of the vaccine only to realize that this is the beginning of a very involved, supply chain nightmare that I will cross paths with sometime in the next 6 to 9 months. Which if I would use my logical mind, is fair. I am not an essential worker. I am not on the front line of saving people. I am just trying to not become one of the people that need saving. My new life goal is not to become a statistic. As my mother would tell me, it’s time to raise your bar a bit.  I need patience, I need focus maybe I even need a hobby…oy! starting to sound like the stereotypical privileged Florida retiree… Is it time for mah jong yet?

Comfort and no Joy

Part of my seclusion was discovering that I really am a natural introvert. I do prefer being alone or nearly alone. I have books, historic documentaries, and art of all kinds to keep me comforted and occupied, yet they are somewhat lacking. Even though I live in a wonderful place, it is confining when relegated to a stay-at-home mindset. I’ve always had a small family, holidays were never about huge gatherings. If anything I envied people who celebrated the holidays with their extended families. I always wanted to be like them until now. Unfortunately this year, you are experiencing my world. This year your world is now reduced to wishing Christmas away just to get through it, I’m sad for you. It does not feel good, I know. It feels really bad. Mitigating the sadness needs to be an area of focus, people are living, breathing and need touch, reassurance and kindness. A friend reminded me during a rough patch, that we all are going though something. Some people are more overt in their malaise, others suck it up and there are a few that even write about it… gasp! I had viewed myself as someone who sucks it up, unfortunately it turns out that I write about it.  I am tired of being tired of the sadness. I know these times do not require a constant facade of happiness, but we can be positive. I believe we can offer kindness in many ways.

Out damn 2020, be gone…

I am taking the next 9 months of my life as if it was a gift of self-discovery. I will approach it from a position of gratitude, kindness, learning and exploration. It is a gift. It is the gift of the Great Pause! I will view the year 2020 as an exercise in humanity gone wild. There are many public examples, citations where we as a society went completely off the rails. I remember working for many years with my sights on the end of the run rather than the journey. It appears that there is a second chance to exercise my mind, body and spirit muscles. This might be the growth spirt I need, maybe you do too. I am going to eave 2020 in the dust and concentrate of looking forward and only forward.

Virtual Gift Exchange

I am looking forward to unwrapping my gift. There is a lot to unpack. There is also much to be examined, embraced, and even discarded. I might be the best use of my Marie Kondo skills. There is the opportunity to vision board, roadmap, learn how to do something new. Terrifying and satisfying all in the same breath. There will be the opportunity to plan trips, I miss the world and yes, I do miss people in my weird introverted way. In my belief system, I think down deep I wanted someone to come along and make this all go away. I have never done anything the easy way; easy usually brings disaster with it. I find that when I do learn on my own, I yield the most. I cannot discover a vaccine, but I can make the world a kinder place. And I will try every day with my actions and my words.

I will share with you my gift’s bounty. I am started to get excited about the ensuing merriment. I hope you receive the same.

Merry Christmas to you.

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My Dad Died Today

My dad died today. Not today, but on this day 43 years ago. It was a beautiful bright September day and I was reveling in my first week of senior year in college. There were friends to see, parties to be seen at and the euphoria that comes from seeing the finish line in sight. College was nearly over and the world seemed like a big adventure with my name on it. It all abruptly changed with a simple phone call, “your dad is ill, you have to go home now”. When I say changed, it was immediate. It was dark and it was life changing. I adored my father. He got me. He loved me. He wanted only the best the world could offer for me. He died that night. He had a massive heart attack at work. There was no time for proper good byes. I saw him in the ICU. His leg that was never seen due to a war wound was all I remember seeing. It was a grotesque reminder of his sacrifice. We never hugged or said anything to each other. It was the first time I remember feeling pain. I heard someone crying and recognized it was me. I felt alone, cold and frightfully afraid. I looked at my mother, who was in shock and we went home. Arrangements, religious protocols, notices and phone calls filled the next several days. It was a blurr, complete with well wishers, concerned neighbors, priests and vocal family. People want to help. They are never quite sure what to do. It is awkward and raw.  

Back to Reality

In my world, I returned to school post funeral. My mother wanted me to quit school and get a job. Imagine making it to your senior year and your parent wants you to drop out of school? I visited with the college chaplain, school dean and my favorite history professor to let them know that my mother wanted me to leave school. I was heartbroken twice. I was a good student, I loved learning and I wanted to get my degree. I am not sure what transpired between the school and my mother, but the topic never came up again and I did finish school. I was markedly different when I returned, the weather and I were in season flux. We were drifting off into winter and I felt the bleakness, cold and yes, despair. I had a hard time focusing. I wanted to be alone more. I was no longer hopeful. I had no direction. Miraculously, the college chaplain became my new best friend. In the prior summer, his daughter suddenly died of what I still do not know. He told me we could talk to each other. And we did. One day, I decided I wasn’t going to go to History class; I just skipped. Well when you go to a small school and have small classes, your absence is felt. My history professor stopped by my sorority house on his way home from the class to see if I was feeling OK. He brought me the lesson. That was the time I knew, I had angels. I believe that these gentlemen willed me finish school as if they were behind me pushing me every step. I remember walking to get my diploma and the chaplain giving me a ‘thumbs up’. I could have been lost in my grief, indifference and naiveté , however they would not have any of that and I did it. This was the first time I realized that I was resilient. I had the grit my dad instilled in me. This was the main lesson my father taught me. You fall down, you get up, no questions asked.

I Get Knocked Down, I Get Up Again…

This would not be the first time I would take a tumble. I was my first real step out into the world. It was frightening. I was afraid, I had no one to give me advice. I was as if I was an unsure colt getting her footing. I knew that I had the base tools to tackle life, I had no idea how to use them. I kept relying on my dad’s words: you can only eat an elephant one bite at a time. I came to discover that although he was not physically with me, he would always be with me. He taught me how to synthesize a problem. It’s all in the pause. He imparted his faith in the Blessed Mother. There are no atheist in combat. He taught me courage. There is no harm in asking why or why not for that matter, just be prepared for the response. He instilled his passion for learning and ideas. I have always had 5 books in simultaneous review, never miss an evening newscast and consider myself informed. He taught me to love America. I always vote and have since I turned 18. He was an engineer by profession and showed me that there is always a better or different way to view a problem and that life is a series of problems that need to be solved. It’s as simple as that!

The Halo Effect

My beautiful father never met my daughter, never shared in all my adult life milestones, never saw me do well in business, but he has been with me every day I’ve been alive. The gratitude I have knowing that I was loved and the remaining halo effect is enormous. My grief subsided over the years and was replaced with a confidence of being his daughter. I am a warrior. I am and I hold that to be my truth.  I hold a certain softness for women who have lost their fathers young. We have a special painful bond we share. As the years go by, more of my acquaintances lose their fathers, mothers, both of their parents. It is not unusual for someone 64 to no longer have either of their parents alive. It is an eerie distinction to be parent less. I never experienced the sadness of my father’s declining health or his joy in being a grandfather. In my world, he will always be vibrant, until the day he was not. That day was today in 1977.

End Notes:

I went to Susquehanna University, a small liberal arts college located in Selinsgrove, PA. I am forever indebted to Dr. Edwin Brown, Mr. Edward Mallory and Dr. John Longacre for taking personal interest in my well being. They were my angels. I will always be grateful.

My dad was a decorated WW2 Army veteran. He was wounded in the Battle of the Bulge. He carried shrapnel in his left leg that caused him pain and left him with a partial limp. He always wore long pants. People would comment on how formal he was. His leg was never exposed, he never went to the beach or wore shorts. Yet, he remained an avid scratch golfer and taught me that most of real business happens out of the office (maybe on a golf course) and in the church parking lot.

Sending love to everyone who’s trying their best to heal from things that they don’t discuss.

Be kind.

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When I’m 64….

When I’m 64…. Today is my official Beatles Birthday! I’m stealing that moniker directly from my friend, Pam who used it to lighten her husband’s big day earlier this year. It’s #64 and for those uninitiated, the Beatles had a novelty song on their Sargent Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band LP called “When I’m 64”. Originally produced in 1967, this breezy tune ruminates.. “will you still need me, will you still need me.. when I’m 64?”… And it is worth celebrating.

What I have come to discover, you are kind of the same person on the inside that you were when you were 16. I was more of a light rebel, bohemian and now… even after years of corporate torture, parenthood, and responsibility; I’m still left leaning, yoga practicing and quasi-creative. It’s been an adventure and I am extraordinarily grateful to be in this place: physically, mentally and spiritually. Getting older is full of perks and vastly underrepresented in today’s society.

First age is a privilege, there are many of my contemporaries that have not made it this far. Every day I wake up, I start with being grateful. It is a purposeful exercise, I do list 10 things that bring me happiness, joy. Some days explode with goodness and freshness, while others are stretched to: I am grateful for clean clothes and a roof over my head. Nonetheless, I have found that addressing what I have in life, rather than what is missing from it has created enormous space for growth and exploration. Psst—try it, it works.

We called it Strudelfest

As I was reflecting on this semi-milestone (because all birthdays are milestones!), it became evident what a crazy year this has been. I am one of the privileged. I do have retirement income & healthcare. I am loved and I am incredibly happy. I have autonomy, pretty much make my own decisions, and have the means to change course if necessary. I used to travel the world with great gusto. It was one of the biggest perks to not working. You have control of your time. I chose to travel and did. The last year I took a month-long European trip with my daughter, Devin that we dubbed “Strudelfest”. The objective was to explore Dutch, French, German, Swiss and Austria pastries, learn about them, maybe bake them and of course, consume them! The real treasure from our trip was the time spent together. Devin is no longer a child and I saw her expand her knowledge, gain expertise and navigate the world. Not too many parents get to witness their child’s transition to adulthood and enjoy their time together now as peers. Peers with a special relationship, oh and all while attempting to speak German. Yes, we were challenged and that was part of the fun too.

Southern Hemisphere Adventures

After that and to launch the calendar new year, I spent another month touring New Zealand and French Polynesia with my partner, Charlie. He finished a 6-month Antarctica deployment and I met him in Christchurch, NZ. He is a scientist and was studying climate, forecasting weather and essentially achieving a lifelong dream of studying this continent. He is one of the good guys, studying climate. Yes, climate change is a real thing. We spent our New Zealand time, hiking, surfing and dining on green-lipped mussels (best in the world). Tahiti was perfection. I had never been and never thought I’d get to go. This was a true Polynesian holiday, complete with fruity drinks, native dancers and the punctuated by an over the lagoon bungalow. Yes, the sunsets are as remarkable as you would think. But even more impressive, were the star scapes. I have never in my life seen stars that intense and radiant. The Southern Cross is majestic. I think time stopped for us there. It was perfection and this was March 10.

Do you have nuts?

Coming back to the US after NZ and Tahiti was surreal. Those countries were starting to experience the virus and had temperature checks at the airports and were following passengers activities post-flight. They took this unknown virus quite seriously. When returning to the US, it was different. There were no questions about the virus,  only about if we brought nuts back from Tahiti (evidently it’s a problem). We were back for 2 days and everything started to shut down. It was suddenly that serious. And here’s where we’ve been.

Let’s renovate a house… or a condo

Now, quarantine can be daunting. We had moved to our new home in August, 2019 right after my last birthday. I started this year off renovating a condo while Charlie was shipped out to Antarctica. Kitchen, two bathrooms, laundry room and all the lighting, window treatments and re-painted. Pretty much the whole place with the exception of the flooring. It was a growth experience. I used to start every day out with gratitude, then… please God, let the contractors show up today and maybe do some work too?  We had a hurricane in the middle of all of it that was the cause for the Bahamian tile guys to not work. I do know, it could have been worse. Ah, but it could have been so much better. It did finish on October 22, only a full month over schedule and we won’t discuss how much over budget. The nice part is when Charlie got home, it was his first time in his new and newly renovated home. It was a nice treat and there were no house projects.

We’re in Quarantine Mode

We were settling in. And that’s what we’ve done. He surfs, I read & do yoga. He writes, I write.  We eat dinner, take beach walks and watch America implode on TV from our living room. We are the privileged. I have learned much about what is not working in America from the “Great Pause”, including how many of our children do not get enough to eat, parents are overwrought with forced home schooling, the unemployment system has not kept up with how Americans work, the unemployment systems are vastly underfunded, people have no savings, there is not a real safety net in America, racism is still prevalent, our healthcare system is a disaster and dumbassery is widespread.   With the exception of dumbassery, there is the opportunity to overhaul our social infrastructure. I know people want to work, we have to find how they can. It might mean that our entire work paradigm may have to change, drastic times require drastic measures. And we need to be kind to each other. This time we are all going through the sh$t show. We need to listen and make sure that everyone is heard. Respect, compassion and love.

I am closing my year not the same as I started, yet am grateful to have perspective and platform to discover what the next iteration will be. Not solely for me, but for all of us. We are living in incredible times. I invite you to make a wish for the year too. We can blown the candle out together, virtually of course.

And for fun… here are the Beatles…

The Beatles- When I’m 64

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Florida in the time of Covid-19

I live in Florida.. It’s the type of place you either love or hate. The landscape is flat, trees are palms, wildlife abundant and the sky is huge. I’m fortunate to live right on the beach, so the sound of waves and smell of fresh salt air entice, calm and bring you to a state of bliss. The counter side is: it’s humid, buggy and oppressively hot. If that doesn’t scare you, it can be heaven. It’s tranquil, off the beaten path (where I am) and has a bit of grit for good measure.

Just a little back story…

Florida has always been a place where people come to forget, sometimes they start anew and then there’s the whole retirement contingent that comes for their golden years. I got here on a corporate move 23 years ago from Atlanta thinking I would be here for 18 months or so and then move back to Georgia. Things didn’t work out that way and well, I find myself retired and living a much slower life. I take beach walks, teach yoga and these days quarantined in my perfect view bubble. Florida has always enjoyed a reputation for being slightly off. Afterall, we do have Florida man, who has been known to do outrageous things in typically a drunken or drugged induced stupor that crosses the line from quirky into sheer crazy stunts. We have alligators that appear newsworthy and strut their stuff through subdivisions, golf courses and periodically eat someone’s unattended or unleashed dog. And to give equal opportunity, we have the white supremist retirees in The Villages parading in their golf carts, emblazoned with Trump flags and chants of White Power. Interesting, huh?

We win! We’re the Epicenter !! What’s the prize !

These days we have the distinction of being the country’s epicenter of the Covid pandemic. Quite the feat. Hurray us!  I’ve been sequestered since mid-March going out precisely 8 times. Four of which were medical, including two for Covid testing. When I do go out, I’m masked and carrying wipes and hand sanitizer. I even have a trash bag to put the wipes in after use. I have become everyone’s mom, prepared for anything. I’m in the “at risk” category: age and autoimmune compromised. The virus is invisible and it’s terrifying.

Free range Tourists

Being beachside, there was a false sense of security when we were on lock down. The beach was open for exercise only and people treated it as such. I live with a surfer and there is in his mind, no healthier activity than submerging oneself in saltwater repeatedly. We were isolated and doing our part to flatten the curve. Unfortunately, not everyone else is being diligent and caring to contribute to the collective. The beach did open again. The tourists returned and they brought trash, non-distanced gatherings and the Covid went up. People did return to the bars and restaurants, unmasked and congregated like this all never happened. If anything, they were squirrely due to their confinement. The city council saw masks as an inhibitor to businesses and would not pass an ordinance. It was reminiscent of the Mayor in Jaws cheering that “the water’s safe” to save their town for sudden economic doom. We all know how that ended… got to get a bigger boat.

Who’s in Charge?

I’ve been anxious to go outside. I see people gathered without masks. The beach is crowded. I’ve come to the realization that I can only affect me. It seems in an arena like a country, there would be a national outcry and consistency in approach. This is problem solving 101. The onus for policy has gone from Federal denial to State panic down to local municipalities freezing indecision to me. I am the one to make the decision how I am going to survive this pandemic. I do accept the challenge. We are paralyzed and hoping for it to just go away. Guess what? It isn’t

Real people are dying in Florida.. these aren’t numbers, they are real people

We are currently well beyond the placating ‘thoughts and prayers’ stage of this rodeo. People are dying in Florida in record numbers (cite: Dept of Health figures for July 20-29). Our governor holds daily feel good press conferences surrounded with yes-people that rarely address any issues of consequence. I know he must hate waking up and going to work every day. I’m glad he does, but this crisis is more than his political ambitions or core managerial competencies, much more. This is a flash point for all of us. These are unprecedented times, they require extraordinary measures and an electorate (that’s us) that are willing to do what it takes to support eradication. Getting tattoos, drinking in bars and meeting in home parties or restaurants aren’t going to do it. It appears that our pain threshold and quest to go back to normal is stronger than the medicine needed to cure this mess. We’re not fixing it, we’re prolonging it.

I am responsible for me.

We need to do the work together. While you ponder your contribution, I’m going to get some fashion forward masks and continue to stay inside unless absolutely necessary. Afterall,  I am responsible for me.

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Back to Reality…

There is nothing more affirming than when the US Immigration official hands you your passport and says..

Welcome home, Ms Kohler…

After 4 months in Europe, calling Belgrade, Lisbon, Prague, Munich, Salzburg and Sofia home; I’m back in America. Home.

Ah, home.. time to recalibrate, take in the experience and ensure that I take all this quality growth and help transform my life. Without getting too philosophical and morose, we all do know that America (maybe the world too) is going through seismic changes in what we do, how we work, our infrastructure and our culture. Rather than acquiesce to accepting that manic corporate behavior is the norm and the only way to make a living, I jumped at dipping my toe into the nomadic pool with Remote Year’s pilot summer program. Now that it’s over (deep sigh), I’ve come back with an invigorated spirit. I can claim that my creativity has been jolted, expanded and awakened. OK, it was awesome… Here’s why

1- Discover your personal resiliency. Constant travel is not easy. Long term travel is not vacation. There are all sorts of quirky experiences that occur that can set you on your heels. You learn to take them in stride and as trite as it sounds.. roll with it.. Sometimes the outcome is totally unexpected and can be far better than ever anticipated. If you open yourself to the possibilities. It’s also comforting to know that a jaded bureaucrat in Eastern Europe is essentially the same as the jaded bureaucrat at the Florida DMV.
2- You too can live with 23kg of possessions (50.6 pounds). Yes, I did travel for 4 months with 1 suitcase weighing in at 23 kg. I did have a computer bag and a carry on (under 8 kg, just in case my luggage was lost. This would give me 3 days of clothes and ziplock bag of toiletries). You become incredibly discerning in your wardrobe choices, realizing how much you’ve spent in the past on clothing and what you really need vs. want. Less does give you more. Oh, and shoes are really, really heavy. When in doubt, wear black. Chic, utility and you can clean it together.
3– Living in the city center is great! There is a vibrancy of living in the middle of everything that is highly energizing. You find yourself an instant part of a neighborhood. People are curious about you and within a week there are smiles and interaction. You become part of the daily flow. It’s alluring and very special.
4- There is life without TV.. but I also need more Internet! Yes, a contradiction… but, I found that when you enter a new community you should be out exploring not watching TV. As a result, you walk more get more fresh air, talk to people and don’t need to sit mindlessly watching stories of people living better or worse lives, being pandered to buy products you don’t need and discovering that your life is lesser than because of overt marketing. No, thanks. Yet on the Internet side, having access to the worlds information at a few clicks has enhanced my experience. I am now completely dependent on my mobile device. Google Maps and Translate have made navigating Eastern Europe and the Cyrillic alphabet a non-issue. Data is a wonderful thing.
5- In-season, fresh food is amazing! I was pleasantly surprised to find that everywhere I stayed this summer had abundant fresh produce. Farmer’s markets or pop-up stands are prevalent. The food is fresh, incredibly flavorful and plain delicious. I made meals from a fresh succulent tomato and few sprigs of basil.
6- Our lives are completely overstimulated. Imagine that everyone around you speaks a language you do not understand. This quickly diminishes your distraction. You have no idea what they are talking about as a result you find yourself insulated in a bubble of sorts. It’s very weird, but it does help with focus. Living this way was somewhat meditative at times. You start to realize how much noise you process as soon as you are back in your own environment.
7- Do I really need a car? I had not driven for four months other than a side trip (It was on the German Autobahn which if you must drive, is the only way to drive!). Living in a city center promotes walking and mass transit. I found that I enjoyed my walking commute. It gave me an essential pause from home-to-work and got me sufficient daily exercise. You get sensible walking shoes and an umbrella. It worked.
8- Street Art! I loved the visual impact of the local street art. Each destination delivered. In an Instagram age, what a better way to promote your city than street art. There also should be a call out to the city gardens, statuary and green spaces that punctuated every city. Each was captivating. I took over 4500 pictures! Most of my art images are outdoor murals, not curated museum pieces. I’d like to include street music in the same. I’ll never forget a cellist on Sofia’s pedestrian street, attacking AC/DC’s Back in Black with the verve of Rachmaninoff. Perfection
9- Cool people are everywhere… I knew I would meet people on Remote Year. I was pleasantly surprised to also meet and befriend locals and expats. After a certain point in life, it is very difficult to meet new people. The opportunity to make new friends diminishes. This was the highlight of my experience.
10- My work opportunity expanded. I developed two separate business streams that are gaining momentum and traction. Big difference than my corporate resume. This is the point where to demonstrate that I fully understand marketing process, I will refer this as the final step that brings feedback to the first step.. Discover your personal resiliency. A year ago, I would have led any work-life discussion with work. I’ve turned the corner, where life finally leads and work fuels it. I guess I am trainable.

Net- If you get the opportunity to work offshore for 4-months, take it.

You will not regret it. It will be challenging at times, but there is real growth there. The benefits are huge. I re-discovered my abilities, expanded my tapestry of experiences and believe that my work has never been better. I’ve met wonderful, talented, funny and caring people that have enriched my heart and nourished my soul. I dream big again.

It’s interesting when the physical workplace barriers are removed. You become free range and suddenly the possibilities are endless. Embrace it, see the world and discover.

Thank y’all for sharing my journey, look forward to seeing you on the road. I’m thinking Australia, Thailand or Bali for the next rev.. any recommendations?

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Finishing the summer in Sofia!

Summer is starting to wind down on Remote Year…sigh… This is stop 4 on my work from Europe summer tour and I’m smack in the middle of Sofia (Bulgaria)! Hard to believe it’s coming to an end, but first let me tell y’all about Sofia

Cathedral of St Alexandar Nevski

For the uninitiated, Sofia is the capital of Bulgaria (sits on the Balkan peninsula with Greece and Turkey to the south). This month I have a smart and highly-sometimes-efficient flat step away from the pedestrian Vitosha Boulevard, the entrance is tucked between a jewelry store specializing in sterling and stylish women’s boutique (all my basic needs). You have to precisely know where you’re going to gain access: unassuming and incredibly convenient. Most of the accommodations I’ve had in Eastern Europe have had very utility entrances. These are not known for curb appeal. There are no flower pots, colorful awnings or even doormats.  I like the obscurity. The pull is not the exterior, it’s the reveal inside. My unit does not disappoint. I have the consummate water closet (WC).. yes, all three basic pieces of plumbing are in one unit (you are allowed to laugh). Admittedly, shaving legs has never been easier and it is a challenge to keep the toilet tissue dry, enough said!  My kitchen is new, compact and ergonomically designed. I do believe that IKEA has had a hand in the layout and is in evidence with their basic kitchen dishes, cookware and cutlery. Essentially, IKEA has outfitted every apartment I’ve had this summer. They appear to be part of the overarching continuity. I am convinced that I’m one step away from actually living in the IKEA showroom. It’s sleek, affordable and vastly comfortable. I’m a fan. Oh, and I have a single unit that is both a washer and dryer. It does take absolutely forever to complete a full cycle, yet.. incredibly efficient. I’m sold on the compactness of these apartments. They completely serve all my needs, have ample room, tons of accessible storage and the city access is incredible. I’m living in about 400 sq ft and really liking it. Go figure!

 I discovered that I adore European café life and this month continues to deliver. The Vitosha Boulevard expanse is reminiscent of Barcelona’s Las Ramblas; it’s peppered with cafes, restaurants, gelato stands and excellent people watching. People are out from early morning to the wee hours (maybe they never go home), walking, socializing (and yes, there might be some serious drinking), enjoying the last days of summer. It’s a very special place. You can buy a draught glass of wine (that’s what they call it: draught wine. it’s wine by the glass and there is usually just one or two available) or experiment with the extensive varieties of bottled product. Local wines are tasty and rather inexpensive. Buy the bottle or two! (Remember, it’s a pedestrian street… no driving).  Bulgarian cuisine is a mix of meat, fresh fish (mostly trout), meat, hearty helpings of grilled potatoes, meat and salads.. specialty being the Shopska (tomato, cucumber, onion and heaps of local white feta cheese- recipe attached for fun). Fun moment: I’ve learned to bone my Trout, while dining at restaurant that caught the fish from the adjacent brook (doesn’t get much fresher than brook-to-table). Bulgarian yogurt is sheep or goat milk based and challenges Greek style (watch out Chiobani). Fresh produce stands are very popular even in the city. It’s been a treat to get this fresh of food daily. Oh, and if anyone is to offer you Bulgarian Tard.. you must try it.. This month in keeping with learning to cook something new and local, I got to attend a vegan dessert workshop and I’ve got several new recipes for pastry infused with Bulgarian rose oil… amazing.

National Theater on the way to work!

Ok, I’ve got a great apartment in the best location.. the icing for this month is my walking commute. I get to saunter down Vitosha (remember pedestrian street), cross over into a beautiful city park that houses the National Theater, series of fountains and historic statues, past the opulent Cathedral Saint Alexandar Nevski, then there’s a zig-zag through some funky construction (pedestrians and workers do mingle together in the construction zone. It’s odd to me, yet works for them. Be sure to watch your step. It is your responsibility to make sure you don’t get hurt)  to the office. It’s a treat and I am thoroughly enjoying the 20 minutes it takes to segue from home to work. Work is a fully tricked out facility including an expresso machine and a calming courtyard.  Here’s the secret, you can work for a few hours then take a break and go to the National Art Gallery to get inspired. There are also local artists with their wares for sale in the park next to the cathedral. Imagine the chance to discover the next great Bulgarian Expressionist!

Rila Monastery, a UNESCO site about a hour drive outside Sofia and worth the trip

Bulgaria… It is a little gritty, rough around the edges, yet alluring at the same time. The mountains are beautiful and offer a nice respite from busy city life. You are an inexpensive cab ride to a trailhead from the city center. There’s a definite deference to nature: hiking, natural springs and an expansive landscape. I’ve seen stunning sunrises, sunsets and the fabulous Corn Moon rise over the city. There are abundant fields just outside the city of sunflowers currently in seed, yet there are a few late bloomers (aren’t we all?) to give you an inkling of how lush and dramatic the yellow color was a month ago. Sunflowers are grown not only for their beauty but for cooking oil and bio fuels. The other cash crop is the elusive and aromatic Bulgarian rose. These are harvested in the midlands in June and offers a bounty of essentials oils that are the basis for their booming cosmetic, perfume and confection segments.

It’s getting close to going home time!

As my journey winds down, there will be more on this crazy concept of nomad working, being on the fringe while living abroad, expanding your viewpoints and my personal favorite: learning to live with less!  Thanks for coming along for the ride. I’ve enjoying having you.  

-C

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This American’s viewpoint from Prague

I am an American living in Europe this summer. I do have a posting-in-progress that slides down the sugary chute of the delights of Prague. How wonderful it is to not be in a hurry to take in everything she has to offer: wide variety of ornate architecture, Charles Bridge, Prague Castle, St Vitas’ Cathedral juxtaposed with Gehry’s Dancing House and the magical art installations of David Cerny The Rotating Kafka Head is my favorite.

I would be remiss. Yes, I am thoroughly enjoying myself and discovered, explored more than ever. There are two things that happened during my time here and a side trip to Germany that rattled me and are worthy of introduction, introspection and discussion.

The first was on a Prague overview tour. An extremely knowledgeable guide named Marcus stopped the group and pointed to the sidewalk stones and a small plaque dropped in the pavement. He brought our attention to my first exposure to “Stolperstein” and the Stolperstein project. This plaque is the size of a small cobblestone and was engraved.. “Heir wohnt…”, which is German for “Here lived”. The balance of the passage was a woman’s name, birthdate, the day she was taken from her home by the Gestapo (The Nazi brand of Secret State Police), where she was interned and when she died. Yes, this was a commemorative stone to a Holocaust victim. It does cause you to pause. It is a very simple, yet powerful reminder of the atrocities of the Nazi Regime. It is her remembrance: her tombstone, her memorial. It is about her.  

This project spearheaded by German artist, Gunter Demnig was started in 1996. The Stolperstein, or stumbling stones memorializes people who were persecuted by the Nazis between 1933 to 1945: Jews, Roma, Political dissidents, homosexuals, anyone deemed “asocial”.

Since then, I have seen several additional Stolpersteine in Prague, Germany and Salzburg, Austria. I am compelled to stop, read each one and say a short prayer to honor them. You wonder who they were, how they felt and how terrified they must have been. It a pervasive memorial, you never know when you are going to find one, or stumble up.. it will disrupt your train of thought and make you wonder about man’s inhumanity toward man, the premise of hatred and the perishable nature of life. It’s a humbling experience and a very timely one.

Instance 2 was on the surreal side. I was touring southern Germany and Salzburg last weekend with my daughter. We did the obligatory castle tours, hiked in the mountains and ate the most incredible Schnitzel with potatoes!  Last Sunday morning, we woke to news of the march in Charlottesville and the death of a young woman, Heather Heyer. The frightening part of this was the images on TV.. were of Americans holding Nazi flags and giving the Heil salute. The commentary was in German and it was not flattering. We looked at each other in complete disbelief. Is this America? This can’t be true. We quickly started to look for US news outlets, CNN and the BBC for clarity. It was true. This was America.

From my offshore view, I am afraid. Not by living in a foreign country, not about influx of middle eastern refugees; I am afraid of America. We are watching you unravel. This is not who we are. We are becoming who my father and his generation fought to defeat. Overt Nazi symbols in today’s America? Hate is now protected speech? No! This is not right, this is not good.  Take a careful look, America is becoming the monster.

I send my condolences to the family of Heather Heyer. I did not know her, as I never knew the people commemorated with the Stolpersteine I’ve seen; yet they are strangely intertwined. It is tragedy.

I beg you, America not to be silent. I beg you, America to resist. I am.

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A very Foo Fighters Birthday

 I’m learning to walk again! Thank you, Dave Grohl..

Tomorrow I’ll be coming to the end of another path around the sun. As with most women of a certain age, I have a love-hate relationship with my birthday; somehow this one is just a little special. Last year was a significant milestone. I spent it as a newly laid off corporate casualty and owning a fabulous Eames Lounge Chair that I had custom made for the big occasion (note: I bought this chair before I learned of my pending unemployment. It was non-refundable). Sucks to be me. It was a bittersweet day culminated in a huge slice of Bahama Breeze’s fresh Key Lime Pie and a spectacular sunset over the Tampa Bay causeway. Acutally… it doesn’t suck to be me.. Happy Birthday, girl…

This year I’m so far removed from Florida, my bodacious chair and corporate America, celebrating with my beautiful daughter while I continue my nomad journey in Prague. You see, this year has been one of those amazing transition years that initially appeared to be a calamitous chute, when in fact it was a golden ladder in disguise… And how does Dave Grohl play into this?

I love this song.. Walk.. Foo Fighters.. seems to be perfectly anthemic and necessary to for anyone that is trying to get their footing again or maybe find it in the first place. It’s about discovery, courage and chutzpah. (I invite you to add it to your “SJGR” Playlist). I play this song non-stop. It motivates me. It inspires me. It makes me want to get up when I think I can’t anymore.  This year, I have been determined not to have me or my life defined by negativity, past events or people. I wanted this chapter of my life to start from a position of strength, not dread.  Perhaps I have gone to extraordinary lengths to clean out the bad juju, yet it seems to be my perfect remedy.  Learning to Walk again..

My new nomad life has stretched my creativity, knocked down my reservations and paved the way to a whole new sense of discovery. I’ve found it enlightening to be physically out of my normal environment, forced to navigate a new city, currency, language, measurement system (and btw- just why isn’t the US using the metric system?), transit system and literally maintain balance on cobblestone sidewalks. You need to think, not react. It can be daunting and unforgiving. There is also a huge sense of accomplishment when you can solo a subway, make change quickly and do currency conversions unassisted (thank you, Google.. I’ve got this one). It’s like I’m playing the “Amazing Race” against myself and some days you win, some days.. well, not so much, but still learning to walk again… You can’t run, if you can’t walk.

This year has taught me that I am still continually learning. I’m learning to have patience with myself. I’m learning to be less busy and more mindful. I’m learning to be attuned to my environment. I’m learning to love me for who I am now. Quite a bit for one year, don’t you think?

It’s my birthday. I’m walking upright and starting a whole new lap around the sun. I can’t wait to see what is in store.


Dave, take us out… Walk- Foo Fighters

 

 

 

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I am a Poser!

 

I am a poser. I’ve studied yoga and now Pilates for a combined 20 years. The more I study, the more I start to under the concept of practice and am humbled by the body of work that require precision, repetition and respect.

I am a poser. I have discovered that the repetition brings me comfort. I realize that the practice gives me the illusion of mastery, while humbling me to my personal limitations.

I am a poser… On the other side of the definition. I wonder what in my life is illusion… the other darker poser. What’s real or veneer? And like to consider that we are all posers, a Janus (albeit a friendly one) to some degree.

I have been a yoga poser for a while. I am a relatively new Pilates Poser. I came to Pilates two years ago as a sick woman. I was gently embraced by a beautiful instructor (Kristin) through who’s tenderness and precision helped me rediscovered myself.

Here’s the back story….

One day three years ago, I was crippled with painful peripheral neuropathy. Meaning I had severe pain in my hands and feet. My beautiful stiletto heels were now the enemy and I could barely open a door knob without winching. I was starting to believe that I was entering the “SJGR” (sh*t just got real) stage of life when you start to decline in the sad part of life. The sad part is one that limits your mobility and is starts to evolve around pain, pain mitigation, doctors, medications and the overarching bad mood associated with pain (I learned this is why many older people seem cranky; they hurt.. so be nice. It is horrible to feel bad all the time). Through a series of well-meaning friends and recommendations, I broke free of the doctor-medicine-pain cycle. My diagnosis went from Multiple Sclerosis to Lupus, RA and then the vague Fibromyalgia. Then something amazing happened, I found a holistic physician who tested me for a wide range of maladies and then the puzzle started to come together. I had a series of food allergies and intolerances and I had off-the-charts levels of aspartame in my system. It appears I was being not-so-slowly poisoned by my quest for weight loss and sugar control. The prescription was rather basic: natural foods only. Then there was the elimination of wheat, wheat gluten, dairy, sugar, white flour and anything processed. Seems a bit extreme, yet when you are getting progressively sicker; you will try the treatment. I was warned that the first several weeks would be hard. It is compared to a detox. They were right. The first 2 weeks, I felt like I had the flu. My joints hurt. My head hurt. I was tired. Then around day 15, when I was ready to quit; I felt amazing. I woke up feeling renewed. My feet and hands hurt, but they did not throb. My headache dissipated and my mood was happy (not completely giddy) but much more palpable than feel constantly bitchy (cite: nasty resting bitch face).

At the cornerstone of my comeback was Pilates. When your feet and hands hurt you stop doing things that might aggravate the condition, including my beloved yoga. You stop exercising. You use movement with caution, I was continually anxious that my fingers would seize up while typing. Now this affects how I make my living, my fingers would hurt while I typed. I could not feel the tips, yet pain would radiate through my hands and arms. This was incredibly difficult for me. I was an elite athlete in my youth. Exercise and training is part of my DNA and discipline. I work out, but not anymore. Damn you, SJGR!  Through research and conversation, I found Pilates does not depend on verticality. It employs a variety of non-load bearing equipment: reformer, Cadillac, chair, barrel that give you full range of motion workouts without extremity stress. My quest for a Pilates experience became borderline religious. It healed me. I was looking for a miracle and not afraid to do the work. I came to my instruction journey bloated, overweight, sore and rigid. I was also afraid. Was this the beginning of the end? SJGR, again and again. Was it time to accept it, or fight. Fight for strength, courage and to regain physical ability. I wanted to become a poser. I desperately wanted my flexibility back. I wanted exercise. I wanted to be vertical.  

My journey started in private. Private sessions to focus on the basics. Focus on my ability not inability to move. I embraced my instruction, learned to breath in rhythm of the motion and equipment, allowed the equipment to support me and regained trust in myself. It was a means to gain ballast, balance and became a life mantra.

Slowly the weight started to melt, my range of motion increased and my confidence started to gain positive momentum. The equipment was not intimating it became a gentle net of support. I was kindly supported with Kristin’s expert instruction and lovingly encouraged to push my sore body. I discovered a renewed resiliency.

Yes, I’m now a poser. I was all ready to join the SJGR club, to acquiesce being on the decline. It wasn’t my age that was making me sick.  I was made ill through the excesses of a successful modern life.. too much, too many chemicals, not enough fresh, clean food. I got better through a complete food overhaul and by embracing Pilates.

Today, I am vertical: very, very vertical. I have excellent range of motion and walk an average of 7 miles daily. This summer I am travelling Europe as part of the Remote Year program. In each city, I seek out private Pilates studios to continue to study. It has become my foundation to a highly dynamic program.

 In Belgrade, I was treated to an advanced studio with focus on personalized progression. In my first session, I stopped with an exercise prior to the queue. I did eight repetitions. The instructor in her abrupt manner (for the full effect – muster your best Eastern European accent) called me out with, ‘there’s nothing wrong with your body, you need to do a few more..’. Initially I was startled and a tad pissed off. Then I realized she did not know my journey, she only saw me today. I was holding back, because of my own fear not because of my ability. She saw someone strong. It was then that I realized this was a gift. I am capable. I am still an athlete. Tears welled in my ears and do every time I think of this moment.  At this very moment, I knew I wasn’t sick any more. Fuck the SJGR club. At this moment, I had the strength, confidence and mettle of the 16 year old skater I was that just landed her first flawless double axel. It was and still feels awesome.  I was back. I was fucking back.

Yes, I am a poser. Now that I’m In Lisbon (new month/new city), my instructor started our relationship with an evaluation. Through her 12 point program, I ranked highest in 9 areas with 3 requiring improvement (damn you, side plank). She is a former professional classical ballet dancer that moves effortless through space with a gliding natural gait. I think she levitates.  Her approach is stylistic with an elegant approach but not lacking in strength. Her studio is perched atop a narrow cobblestone street in old town Lisbon. It is a workout to get there and so worth the effort.

As a newly minted and re-focused poser.. I’m finding that I will seek out those who will help me grow my practice, enhance my form. There is no competitive Pilates. It’s all about you and your journey. There is no gold medal. This is about a personal path. It’s about skill building, discipline, vitality and individual growth. This is not something you can buy, you must earn it. There is something vastly satisfying in individual accomplishment. No one needs to know my journey. I guess you do now. You will not see pictures of me in my finest lululemon garb doing planks (but if I could master the side plank, then maybe I’d entertain showing off) on the Portugal cliffs. But I am not ready for the SJGR club. Never ever, ever give up! Own your destiny.. Strike a pose…

 P.S… I’m toying with the idea of writing about my entire journey.. diagnosis, minimalism, regaining equilibrium post-divorce, post- corporate career and facing the downside of being middle aged. It’s a very exciting and challenging time like reverse teen years. Let me know if you think that would be interesting too. I’m not looking to do a vanity piece, more of an instruction manual, because I feel like I’m discovering this on my own. There are no role models, we’re inventing this as we’re going! It could be fun.