From the Fugue

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I’m just now rejoining the land of the living. I was among the zombies for the past couple days. No, not in a fun way like when Brock and I were extras in a movie about the walking dead, but in a ‘my body has been taken over by pathogens’ kind of way. Not so fun. Especially because it’s my spring break. I’m trying to resist the urge to pout and stomp my feet.  It helps that pouting and stomping requires more energy than I currently possess.

We usually try to go camping each spring break, but Brock’s work schedule did not allow for this year (again, not pouting or stomping). I realized a few years ago that it is very important for me to get out of town for a least a couple days each spring break. If I don’t, I find myself getting grumpy upon hearing the stories of lavish vacations when school resumes. I don’t need the long or elaborate trips (okay, want maybe, but not need), just a short jaunt to a new location with a new (or no) routine.

This year, I decided to go to Asheville and stay at Peaceful Quest Retreats, which is owned by a fellow blogger:) It was a great decision. I love Asheville and I haven’t been in many years (with my ex). I enjoyed puttering around the shops, watching the crowds, eating an awesome veggie bowl at Laughing Seed Cafe and touring the art museum.

basketballs as grapes? love you, Asheville:)
basketballs as grapes? love you, Asheville:)

I forgot about my increasing headache as soon as I pulled into the parking spot at Peaceful Quest Retreats. The name is apt; the setting is absolutely magical. And the company that evening was too:) It was a great night and I was looking forward to more.

don't you just want to sit in those chairs?
don’t you just want to sit in those chairs?

Unfortunately, my resident pathogens had other plans. I awoke the next morning with a sore throat and body aches. I pretended they didn’t didn’t exist long enough to tour the property and visit the arboretum. The latter was one of the nicest I have ever seen and I really want to see both in the summer when all of the trees have leafed out.

I think he's asking for the leaves to appear!
I think he’s asking for the leaves to appear!

I then made the difficult decision to cut my visit short so that I could drive before my fever took full hold and so that I could get to the doctor first thing Monday morning. Sigh. Stupid bacteria.

But I’m not pouting or stomping.

I had a great (although waaay too short) trip. I met new friends and saw new sights. I slept for 18 hours and saw some very bad TV which reminded me why I prefer books. The antibiotics are working and I am slowly winning the war against the invading hordes.  I took advantage of my low energy today to tackle my tedious to-do list for spring break (including finally updating my blog’s look!). I hope that there is an overlap of good weather and wellness over the next few days so that I can get outside and enjoy the hikes and the gardens that I adore. But, even if that is not to be, I’m not pouting or stomping because I still have these precious days to slow down and take a breath. And that’s worth a smile.

Recalculating

Posted on by stilllearning2b

photo-193

Early April of 2010 was a strange time for me. My divorce had been finalized a few weeks before, I had given notice at my current school that I would not be returning the following year, I had just started falling for Brock and I was planning on moving to Seattle in June. I should have been in a panic.  The life I was living had an expiration date. I didn’t know how I would make money or where I was going to live come June. I should have been scared of the unknown, especially since I am a planner by nature. Surprisingly, I was only slightly uncomfortable with the amorphous nature of my future. I think I was so relieved to have survived the divorce that I felt like I could accomplish anything.

I had been applying to school jobs online in the Seattle area, but I needed to visit the city in person to complete the background check needed to get my teaching certification in Washington. My friend and coworker, Carissa, was in a similar situation. She was ready to leave Georgia and wanted to move to the NW to go to graduate school. Like me, she had vague plans but nothing solidified. We decided to move against the spring break migratory patterns and visit Seattle that April. We planned on a combination of sightseeing and job hunting/ school searching while we stayed with my dad and his wife.

We rented a car and plugged in my GPS, which I packed since I had only been to Seattle once as adult (I was visiting Seattle the previous summer when I received the text that my husband had left). Now, if you are familiar with Seattle, you know there is an area through downtown where the interstate splits into 17 levels (okay, so maybe it’s more like 3, but it feels like 17). As Carissa and I were traversing that area in order to get from the airport to my dad’s house, the GPS instructed us to take a left turn from the top level where there was no place to turn. We ignored its command since we hadn’t taken out the extra rental insurance. A few moments later, the device announced, in a voice that sounded like a robot raised in Australia, “Recalculating.”

It became a common utterance of the GPS over the next week as we traveled around unknown areas. We laughed every time we heard that word and it became the theme of our week. I’m not sure if it was due to the excessive cloud cover in Seattle in the spring, our wrong turns, or divine providence, but I have never heard my GPS recalculate so much before or since. Carissa and I never became annoyed at the machine, we actually laughed harder each time it needed to recalculate. It wasn’t worth getting upset about. We trusted the GPS to get us there even if it took a different path than expected.

It was fitting, as Carissa and I were both recalculating ourselves during that trip. We went into the week with grand plans of interviews (for both) and university tours (for her). The reality? We went whale watching, took the underground tour, did the wineries, saw Vagina Monologues, listened to live music, visited the Pike St. market and hiked the foothills of the Cascades (every trip peppered with “recalculating”. We only made one future-related stop and that was to submit the fingerprints and other information for the background check in order to teach in Washington. Now, Carissa really wanted to take a break from teaching and become a full-time student. She was only applying as a back-up. Me? I had no desire to go back to school; I was applying to be able to bring in a paycheck.

Except I made the decision at the last minute not to complete the process.

My entire life, I have played it safe. I have always been conservative with career choices and money. I only took very calculated risks and generally only when I was okay regardless of the outcome. I’ve never been impulsive. I’m not one to fly by the seat of my pants. I am a planner to the nth degree. I find comfort and security in lists and spreadsheets.

But that week, I recalculated. I made the decision to put aside the plans (and, yes, spreadsheets) of the previous 8 months. I decided to shelve my preparations for a move to Seattle. I still don’t really know why I did it and I still can’t believe that I did. I chose to follow my instinct that spring rather than approach the situation more rationally. So, after traveling 3000 miles from Atlanta to look for employment in the NW, I started looking for Georgia jobs while seated on my father’s couch. Nuts? Absolutely. But, strangely, I felt calm about the decision.

Within a few weeks, I had a job in Atlanta lined up for the fall and I located an apartment. It’s a decision that I’ve never regretted but I still can’t fully understand. Yes, I had started seeing Brock, but that relationship was very young and we had no idea that it was going to persist. Honestly, at that time, I would have said that my need to escape from the memories of Atlanta was stronger than my feelings for Brock. So, why did I stay? What was it in that moment that allowed me to trust the GPS of my gut rather than the itinerary mapped out in my brain? I don’t know but I’m glad I listened.

It’s easy for us to try to fully plan our route through life. But sometimes, our vision becomes clouded or we make a wrong turn or divine providence intervenes and we have to recalculate. Sometimes we get upset when that happens. We want to get back on the planned route and continue the planned journey. We might get irritated at having our preparations interrupted.Yet, we never really know where a path will lead. Every journey has an element of faith. Sometimes we simply have to trust that a decision is the right one for us in the moment.

As a planner, I struggle with staying calm when things unexpectedly change. But now, when they do, I think back to that spring, Carissa and I laughing in the car, and my instinct leading me the right way. There’s nothing wrong with recalculating. Even if you traveled a long way to do it.

Now, if I could only go whale watching in Atlanta:)

Life’s Odometer

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I received the text just months shy of our tenth anniversary. The divorce process being what it is, the marriage persisted after the ten year mark. The wedding was never the year we marked, however. We always added six to go back to when we started dating. So, by the time it was over, we had been together for sixteen years. That was half of my life.

Odometer
Odometer (Photo credit: trickhips)

It felt like my life odometer had been abruptly and violently forced back to 000000. It was painful, but it was also frustrating. It felt like those were miles wasted on a pointless journey that was aborted before its intended destination. The consistent rolling of the numbers indicating the length of the relationship felt purposeful. They spoke to where we had been and where we were going to go.

When my boyfriend and I reached the six month mark (an important period that frequently delineates casual dating from more serious partnerships), he commented on how long we had been together. I remember scoffing internally. Six months was nothing. I had been with my ex thirty two times that! I didn’t get it yet.

Then, one year came, again commented upon by my boyfriend. I still didn’t get it. I can be a slow learner at times.

It wasn’t until two years when I finally understood. First, due to the magic of ratios, it was now only 1/8 of the time that I spent with my ex. But, more importantly, I viewed my entire life odometer differently. I had been viewing it as the primary and permanent wheel in the center of my console, quietly ticking away through the journeys of my life. I saw the divorce as an assault on the dial, overriding the system.

Then I realized that life is rarely that linear. Our lives are perhaps better marked with trip odometers that are reset to mark the beginning of a new journey. These parallel journeys should not be quantified; the distance is not what adds to the quality. Rather, each trip should be accepted for what it is with the understanding that the odometer can be reset if needed.

I now don’t worry about sixteen years. I don’t compare times together, creating ever-improving ratios. Now, I just roll down the windows and enjoy the ride 🙂

Let’s Go On An Adventure

Posted on by stilllearning2b
Kayla and Tiger aka Beauty and the Beast

My friend Sarah and her daughter, Kayla, came over for a visit the other day. Kayla was no damsel in distress on this day; she was happy and giggly and eager to get to know Tiger. They played ball on the stairs tirelessly for over an hour, dog and child finding joy in the simple act of fetch and retrieve. Kayla never questioned the goal of the activity, nor complained as the tennis ball grew ever wetter with slobber. She simply delighted in the moment. It was adorable to watch this slight three-year-old learn to command the ninety-five pound pit bull as she ordered him “down” before she would release the ball, letting it tumble down the stairs. When her mom announced that it was time to go, Kayla initially protested, begging to stay and play with Tiger a bit longer. Soon, however, she brightened, and asked, “Is it time for another adventure?” Sarah responded to her daughter in the affirmative and then turned to me and said, “Actually, we’re going to the grocery store, but for her that is an adventure.”

I can’t claim that I am able to view a trip to Publix as an adventure, but I love the message from little Kayla – approach every experience with curiosity and allow for excitement even in the mundane.

Tiger after his “adventures” with Kayla.

My own adventure came a few days later, when my boyfriend and I went to visit a friend in St. Marys, a small town tucked in the southeastern corner of Georgia. It was a short trip – an entire summer in one long weekend sandwiched between writing a book (which will be released soon!!!) and my return to school. Like Kayla, my boyfriend and I found joy in the smallest details of each day. My friend, whom we stayed with, had the brilliant idea of installing an outdoor shower in an enclosed and decked-in area of his backyard. We must have showered three times a day, enjoying the spray of the water against sweaty skin and delighting in the fresh air and sounds of the birds.

Ready for adventure.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We ventured into Florida for our first beach day, enjoying the sun, sand, and surf which eludes us in our usual land-locked lives. After returning to St. Marys that afternoon (and taking another shower, of course!), we made our way into “downtown” on the city’s premier transportation method: a golf cart. It was a lovely change of pace from Atlanta’s usual gridlock. Somehow, you can’t feel road rage-ish on a golf cart. It’s scientifically impossible.

 

We made our way to an outdoor patio where Three-Fingered Nick (our “blues” name for him) was playing a couple sets with a few other musicians. Nick is so unbelievably inspiring. He was a well-known and extremely talented guitarist. After losing a finger and part of his thumb, he stayed away from playing for a time, but with the encouragement of his wife, eventually returned to the guitar. He sounds amazing. Not just amazing for a man with three fingers, but just plain amazing. I love meeting people who have persevered through difficulty. They show the true beauty of the human spirit.

 

 

The next day, my friend took us to Cumberland Island on his boat. We wove through miles of pristine marshland, the only boat on the water. My friend, a naturalist and passionate protector of the St. Marys river, answered our questions and pointed out wildlife and habitat features. It was stunning.

Cumberland Island – Be thankful that humidity and mosquitoes have not yet learned to travel via the internet.

 

 

 

 

 

He dropped us off on the island. As I had done the official tour last year, I took on the role of tour guide for my boyfriend. Cumberland Island is a beautiful blend of history and nature, with a generous smattering of mosquitoes. We walked for mile or so through the dark and atmospheric woods formed by the low, twisting branches of the live oaks, their limbs decorated with the lacy veils of Spanish moss.  The air was heavy with humidity that seemed to even dull the sounds of the cicadas that surrounded us. We were alone on the paths, making it easy to imagine being on those roads a hundred years prior. Before air conditioned. Shudder.

 

 

 

Our first destination was the ruins of the Carnegie mansion at Dungeness Point. Since I am much more educated about the sciences than Georgia history, I’m afraid I didn’t do this part of the tour justice.

We then walked along a boardwalk to make our way to the beach (all we could think about at this point was sinking into the cold waves). We spotted an alligator off the side of the path. Luckily, my boyfriend did not have to prove to the gator that he’s a black belt:)

 

 

 

The surf felt as amazing as expected. Cumberland is a different coastal experience. A special place. No more than 300 people are allowed on the island at a time, so the sands are relatively bare. There are no shops, no bars. In fact, you must carry in and remove anything you want with you. It’s backpacking on the beach.  It was hot, sandy, and humid. But it was perfect.

 

Just hanging out enjoying the sea breeze

 

The beach is home to a large herd of wild horses. There were several enjoying the beach along with us. This particular stallion stood facing the ocean for hours, seemingly enjoying the feel of the wind on his face. Or maybe he was debating about trying to swim across the Atlantic? Or, waiting for a message in a bottle from his long-lost mare ? Who knows? I just know I felt as peaceful as he looked.

Luckily not our boat

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Most of us do not get to have experiences like these frequently. However, as Kayla showed me, we don’t have to wait until we have the time or money (or the friend who bought a house at the beach!) to have an adventure. We can find thrills in every day. Even at the grocery store.

So, what do you say? Want to go on an adventure?

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Two Ladies Going to Verona (In Honor of Mother’s Day)

Posted on by stilllearning2b

It was a happy accident.  My mom was talking about how she met the goal of improving her blood work (cholesterol, glucose, etc.) and needed a new motivation to continue to eat right and exercise.  I was feeling the travel bug biting hard and my unused passport in my maiden name was growing restless.  And, somehow, some way, the topic of Italy came up.

She mentioned that it was her dream destination.  The top contender on the bucket list.  I casually mentioned, “Why don’t we do it together.”  I heard her face light up over the phone.  She grew excited.  Giddy.  We only had a few minutes until I had to go, so we quickly talked through some basics.  I had made the trip to Italy once before with a high school group, so I had some idea of what I wanted to do on this trip.  I thought of the places I had gone and what I wanted to share with her. I took off like a rocket.

Rome, of course.  The history there.  Piazza Navona and that little gelato place.  Vatican museum.  That place was amazing.  Famous artwork even lined the hallways to the bathrooms.  All those cathedrals.  The Coliseum.  I wonder if it’s still full of cats?  The Pantheon.  That one caught me by surprise.  The beauty and unexpected joy of the rain pouring through the occulus.   Florence.  The Uffizi Gallery.  Oh my god, those statues were amazing.  Pompeii.  I still dream of that place.  Inspiring and haunting all at once.  All the images came tumbling back.

I never made it north of Florence.  She began to speak wistfully of Venice and the lake country.  We would have to include those, as well.

When?  We set a date.  Summer of 2013.

All of this occurred in under 20 minutes.  A trip sketched out.  A dream laid.

Good thing I tossed a coin in here 20 years ago!

I had a busy evening with friends that night.  She had a busy evening too; purchasing travel and Italy apps, buying books, and beginning research.  I could tell she was thrilled.  Even better, I could tell she was motivated to stay healthy to be able to handle the rigors of Italy.  I am excited to be able to do this trip together: mother and daughter.  We will have our challenges, but they are known ones and mainly due to our different paces.  It’s a good thing that I have mellowed somewhat and that my Vibram running shoes pack down small:)  I am looking forward to showing her the sights that made such an impact on me 20 years ago and seeing the look on her face as she visits the locals of her dreams.

This was just a few short weeks ago.  Since then, she has mapped out the itinerary and started researching hostels.  I have begun the process of figuring out how to feed myself while there (luckily, it looks like gluten free will be easy, but I remember them all too clearly calling me a “sadomasochist” for being vegetarian when I was a teenager).  I’ve been inundated with Italy-themed emails and the first “mom” package of books has arrived.  I love it.  I get to see my mom excited and, for me, I get to obtain the first stamp on the passport of my new life.

Look out Verona, these two ladies are coming your way!