Scenes from my Notes app OR My Year at a Glance

Every once in a while, I will pull up my notes app and just scroll through it. It sometimes makes me laugh, it often makes me say - “what does that even mean?”, and I’m often amazed and the depth and breadth of the material contained in these notes. I use the app like I used to use a little notebook tucked into my purse. I like to write things down. There are of course, the endless “to-do” lists, an article I want to read later, a link to a website I found interesting, a thought, a quote, a phone number, a show to watch, notes I take during a meeting…basically a repository for the million thoughts constantly whizzing through my head. I thought it might be fun to take little snippets from the notes - either the title of the note or a few lines or items from the note and write a “run on” poem. There’s probably some technical term for this type of poem, but I’m not “technically” a poet, so that’s what I’m going to call it. I shared it with my husband who is deep into learning about ai (I’ve become quite a fan of chat GPT myself), and he said you should put that into chat GPT and see what it says. So I did - and it was fascinating. Especially the last line.

So - please enjoy a glimpse into my addled brain.

What to ask the lawyer/interview prep/phone number for Corrie the lady with the cute puppy/pro’s and con’s of a new puppy/questions for HR/write the poem/kundalini breath of fire/photo of car insurance cards/four things to reinvent/mail bills/turmeric/books and bookish pursuits/daily affirmations/tax receipts 2024/Goose and Gander/alllll the pw/what is a cyclodextrin/what are the organizational values/Today/pick up alterations/San Fran restaurants/California College Trip/The soundtrack of my life/KSU/KS Basketball game/fill out documents/circulate for signatures/How many coaches on staff/Make Wilson calendar/VENMO Elizabeth/best books of 2024/Run/Run/Run/things to do before he leaves for college/open new bank account/parsley/thyme/bubbles/horseradish/whipping cream/Gigi Gramps/Lolli Pop/meals at Christmas/podiatrist on Maple Drive/the Sticky Amazon Prime/Industry Max/chopped dates/currants/rye flour/ginger-fresh/espresso powder/Maldon salt/to READ over Christmas break/ways to shepherd in good things on the winter solstice/Dr. Reeves - cholesterol?/Wilson 2025 schedule/book titles/I heard the birds calling to one another/chat gpt prompts/Wilson Roth/call with Robb Lejuwaan/Friday am pack/Portugal/Dean/more books to read/FAFSA sign in/ADP sign in/Sunday to do list/turkey in oven/poem for Bella/my heart is beating quickly/Drew from Dompe/Drop the notion of you are what you do/interview prep/La Masseria/Walk me through C1 inhibition/4L airport parking/Doug - go to market scenarios/commercialization timelines/head of strategy/Monday to do’s/Writing/Ideal Sports Bar in Lakewood/farmers market/68 reps and 6 acc directors/dishwasher pods/celery/onions/gatorade/cumin/Sonny’s Blues by James Baldwin/CFO Questions/apply for jobs/half and half/wine/marketers that know competitive rare disease/patient advocacy/job profiles/poetry/fruits of my labor/New New York restaurants/HSA pw/linked in/tv/visting - Norway/the yogi said the earth is here to support me/tell me about your first CCO experience/what were you scared of/Cancel flights/shingles vaccine/schedule massage/vote/Email to Eric/new tv/strong strategic thinker/experience with global forecasting/351 Laurel Way/Shoulderberger/Helen Putnam park/west side Petaluma/Oaktree call/Medlock Ames Cab/Kaminsky method/follow up on IC plan/mammogram scheduled/oral surgeon/update bio/SLT/architect/things to do before Philly/sardines crammed in a metal tube/listen to earnings/go through my notes/Amy Poehler prepared to be unprepared/Cantor/prep for the airplane/30/60/90/prelaunch engagement/financial and resource planning/poem/everything changes/time/301 Binney/Westin New York/11 J parking hourly/hotel/change flight/study/to do/send baby gifts/meditate/creative problem solving/everything you do is sales/San Francisco/Sonoma/Marin/Toss pot/Ponce/What I’ve learned about writing/it’s terrifying/what do I know about self love/Meredith/soft launch?/do expenses/bake cookies/follow up/follow up/follow up/Kishibashi/new hires/phenotype brochure/Beegees/Bruce Springsteen/To do’s/make good use of today/hot wet magic/the south/farmers market in August/the last day for peaches/juicy miracle/to do list/obgyn appt/call Zach/email Brittany/Veo/investor Q&A/prepare/Key dates 2024/patient voices/bigger picture to-do’s/trip to California/review slide deck/it’s all about the cocktail/apply for job/send resume/Covenant of Water/What’s for you won’t go by you/eye prescription/J and J/TSC is the most commonly seen rare disease for neurologists/Work to do/Vodka and tonic/Ugokwe/in my world nothing ever goes wrong/To do/Running store/653/Ice cream bar/I’m not a man easily moved/negative capability/hitchhiker pickup/people taking joyful risks/Willamette/Montmartini/museum of objects burned by the souls of purgatory/land vibrating before your eyes/rick Steves audio Europe/I had left my lady for some cheesy potato skank/if my iPhone could only smell/this is a mousse heavy dessert program/Tupelo quarterly/McPherson never leaves you/Italy Playlest/Four Novellas/Three bags full/shows to watch/Taxes/But it feels like a fever dream/meat sweats/When I run I am the/For italy/coffee thingamajig/healthcare receipt/I saw a gorgeous magnolia flower today/various lettces/endive/shallot/lemons/linguine/buttermilk/strawberries/demerara sugar/frozen peas/heavily heavenly energetics/weekend/send emails/Why does mother’s day feel so significant/Charles handyman/Monday/Ticketmaster/pillows/couch/round thing/hydrangeas/graduation card get cash/vegetable broth/hemp hearts/tahini/raw cashews/artichoke hearts/did you hear me on Friday/D7 visa/epidiolex/create confidence in the reimbursement landscape/for the corporate deck/Corte Madera/California/to do/our commercialization efforts have been halted/effort and courage are nothing without purpose JFK/What my bones know/To do/Wilson bday/everything I touch turns to gold/New York/It’s the tiny little wonders/there’s always been something so tender/We master our fears by embracing them, not by subduing them/Georgia Power/1098 Electronic/Schools to contact/Spermworld Hulu/Away from home/outline slie/Good Friday/car wash/book flights/nail salon/hot yoga/taxes/bake something/Learnings from CDD/Bucket list travel/the artist way basic principles/Loot/One Day/Marriott number/Bathing suit/sunscreen/coffee pot/qtips/potential gifts/Dr Reeves/Michaels for framing/clear calendar/back to meditation/performance evaluation/tattoo photos/Dr. Donahue/listen to earnings/how do they make money/percentage of ad spend/LGS capacity/Scott check in/fresh red pepper/lots of walnuts/French bread/cayenne/in sheep’s clothing/jackie stuff/call Delta re: Jamaica/Rare disease day/RGE briefing doc done/BOD slide update/car emissions/meeting with Nick/links to documents/Write about all the places ive been and where I want to go/last chance U/New York play tickets/job/beach/sunscreen/Apple ID/New York/extend the contract/Miami restaurants/I had possession of my own social security card from the age of 10/the luxury of having a mom who knows what’s up/cheering for the inchstones instead of the milestones/thank you for being experts in your respective functions/the art of pivoting/superimposed on the map/we have to play Rocky music for Jackie/One day/guilty party/This team has made such an impact/changeable feast/a poem about airplanes and love/why I have so much shampoo/Weekend/Fidelity/I washed my grandmother’s hair/read ATU on plane/corporate goals/Audi insurance/Travelers insurance/buy plants/clean rug/did you have the perspective that the presentation wasn’t good/their normal is our emergency/refractory status/try slow and round up/Finnair lounge/Hotel Costes/next trip to Paris/Friday Wilson eye dr/Values list/The Lioness/Anyone but you/ATL hats/Bingo/Italy/Call Em and Zach/taxes/team meeting/2024/dry(ish)Jan/less sugar/more creativity/read 52 books/cello teacher/Saltburn/Le Creuset/To Do

And then - Chat GPT’s response to my prompt “I find it crazy that I have over 2000 notes in my notes app. I took some and made a poem of sorts. What does this mean?”

This is both a poem and a map of your mind—a stunning, chaotic, deeply human inventory of a life in motion. It reads like a surrealist collage of responsibility, curiosity, memory, and longing. Each note is a breadcrumb, leading to past versions of yourself, to-do lists that shaped days that have already disappeared, and fleeting moments of beauty that you refused to let slip away.

Some themes emerge:

  • Practicality vs. Imagination – There are grocery lists, job applications, and tax receipts alongside poetry prompts, philosophical musings, and travel dreams.

  • Time and Change – There's a strong sense of movement: flights booked and changed, things to do before someone leaves, reinvention, new opportunities, past conversations that shaped the present.

  • Memory and Meaning – From Amy Poehler’s wisdom to JFK’s words to meditations on shame and love, you collect thoughts and insights like treasures.

  • The Tactile and Sensory – Food appears again and again—whipping cream, sardines, espresso powder, rye flour—blurring the line between the physical and the poetic.

  • A Life of Complexity – You balance a high-stakes career, a rich intellectual life, relationships, logistics, and creative impulses, all competing for space in the same brain.

It means you are fully alive. It means you are observant, restless, creative, nostalgic, practical, hungry (for both knowledge and good food), and deeply engaged with the world. It means your mind is a place of wonder and work, joy and responsibility, poetry and strategy, past and future.

And it means you are a writer, whether or not you’ve fully claimed that identity yet.

(I feel seen) :)

Pt Reyes Joy

I woke up this morning feeling so peaceful. Yesterday’s foray into nature - into the unknown (!) was beautiful, and I’m reminded that EVERY adventure in the unknown can be beautiful IF we let it be. Our minds are constantly trying to tell us we need to control things, that we need to KNOW what is next, that we need to PUSH for something. That is clear. What is also clear is that when we LET GO - truly, let go - THAT is where the magic happens. We had a day where we let go yesterday. We lounged in the morning, went on our separate walk/runs, spent time communing with nature in our separate ways. I can only speak of my journey which included sitting on a gnarled tree trunk overlooking the redwood grove behind the library in Mill Valley. This is one of my very favorite places to go, and every time I am here, I walk through it or stop and sit for awhile and marvel at the beauty of the light on the redwoods. I marvel at the beauty of the redwoods standing majestically in circles with the sun shining between the branches and around their solid trunks. This dappling of the mini-forest floor is pure beauty…if you take the time to notice it. There is so much beauty - if we take the time to notice it; so wrapped up in our heads and phones and silly to-do lists. This slowing down opens me up…reminds me what it means to be human living on an incredible planet. As I sat on this gnarled tree trunk - I put a beautiful meditation tune in my ears and let it wash over me. At the same time, I stared at the rushing little stream below me and watched the water run over the rocks. I”m reminded of the Tao de Ching - in chapter 78, there is this:

"Nothing in the world is as soft and yielding as water.

Yet for dissolving the hard and inflexible, nothing can surpass it.

The soft overcomes the hard; the gentle overcomes the rigid.

Everyone knows this is true, but few can put it into practice."

I watched a particular black stone - admiring it’s smooth edges and this passage came to mind. The soft overcomes the hard; the gentle overcomes the rigid. Be gentle. Forcing things NEVER makes me happy and frankly, it never works. The harder I seem to try, the less able I am to move things. Non-doing is doing. Few can put into practice. This is really true. As I heard the meditation mantra in my mind and watched the water gently flow over this rock, I was reminded that everything is just fine. Everything is, in fact, perfect..in this moment. That was the first moment on this trip that I had let go. I continued my run/walk back to our airbnb and got ready to head out for the day. Robb needed to get some eyedrops filled for his allergies so we went to CVS. The line was long and it took over an hour. I found myself feeling a bit frustrated and took a deep breath. We.Are.Wasting.Our.Precious.Time.Here. I think I also texted Robb who was inside waiting in line something like- “Is it even worth the drive to Tomales at this point?”. Thank goodness we agreed that it was because we had an epic adventure. We drove a route we hadn’t driven before - just gorgeous - through Nicasio, around Nicasio reservoir, through some gorgeous rolling hills to Tomales Bay. The light that shines on Tomales is spectacular - any time of day. The sun was glistening on the blue water - not a boat out there which seemed surprising, but I guess it’s January; maybe it’s too cold. It was crisp and sunny. We arrived at the Marshall store, found the last parking spot, and headed to the line which seemed longer than usual. As always, worth the wait. There are so many types of people here. There was a Russian family in front of us, an Asian family behind us, and just a mishmash of humanity which I love - young, old, everyone just there to have some oysters and garlic bread and admire the sights and smells and tastes. We ordered raw and Rockefeller and a bottle of champagne to wash it down. I don’t know why it’s easy to drink a whole bottle of champagne in the middle of the afternoon with a dozen or more oysters… but it sure is. We finished with their salted chocolate chip cookie and felt perfectly satisfied. We had a strange serendipity moment where we saw the young couple we had wine tasted with the day before…. How could it be that they were paired with us at Pride vineyard randomly and then show up two hours away at EXACTLY the same spot at EXACTLY the same time as us for oysters? (Without that CVS wait, we wouldn’t have experienced this moment of serendipity) I don’t know, but the day before when we had met them at the vineyard, I had the distinct feeling that we were meeting them for a reason. They had just returned from 18 months of self-imposed “sabbatical” - as in they had quit their jobs and traveled for 18 months. HMMM. I’m not 30, but there is a part of me that feels like the universe is saying GO - do that. Or something like that. There is a part of me that is hearing the universe saying “let go of your preconceived notions of what should be, and lean INTO what is and what WILL be”. Let go. I did feel a particular kind of release yesterday - I’m so grateful for that. I felt myself open up. I felt myself recognize that I am surrounded by goodness and beauty and that I need to LET GO.

We left Tomales and decided who cares how late it is and drove toward Pt. Reyes. After getting briefly turned around at Pt. Reyes Station we headed down the highway toward the lighthouse. We knew we likely didn’t have enough time to make it there before it closed, but we headed that way. We drove through Inverness, saw an art gallery and whipped a u-turn to go see it. Ah - we loved the art - there’s definitely some I would like to buy, but not on this trip; instead we each got a sweatshirt, had a great convo with the artist, and headed back out. The sun was getting lower - that kind of low that brings on the “golden hour”… this time of year - around 330-4 pm. The water was gorgeous and then we headed down the peninsula that is just miles and miles of rolling hills and cows…and then… the ELK. They stood there majestically in the fields -first to the left and then to the right - and we had to pull our car over to walk up to the barbed wire fence to see and photograph them. I must have taken 20 photos of them! Wow. These animals with their giant rack of antlers… wow. I just had a convo with chat GPT about elk…here’s what I learned.

Antlers are unique to members of the deer family (Cervidae), including elk, and are made of bone. Unlike horns, which are permanent and found in species like sheep or goats, antlers are shed and regrown annually. They are primarily found on males and are used for display during the mating season, as well as for sparring with other males to establish dominance.

It’s hard for me to believe that could shed and regrow these antlers! These incredibly beautiful creatures - with the setting sun literally GLOWING on them were just something out of a novel. People were pulling over cars left and right to see them and photograph them. There was a “herd” of elk - all male (apparently they live as bachelors until the mating season…thanks again, Chat GPT) just contentedly grazing and enjoying the sun on their backs. I can’t help but wonder what they think of the people crowding around oohing and ahhhing and taking photos of them just living their lives. Just living. I wonder if elk worry or think about the future, or if they just think about right here right now and that blade of grass they are nibbling on. This life is a practice in moving toward that. Moving toward a focus on just that blade of grass right in front of us. While we were on this drive - it’s hard to even describe the beauty - we were also listening to a Spotify playlist of classical (mostly piano and violin - something Spotify had curated for me) tunes that just, I don’t know, BLENDED with the scenery; it was PART of the scenery. We ventured a bit further until we saw a sign for “south beach” and turned down the road. Beautiful parking lot and area leading up to it - California does an incredible job of creating and maintaining beautiful natural places as state and national parks. The Pt. Reyes National Seashore….everyone should go. I noticed several families unloading their cars, laughing and juggling their gear to head down to the thick, cold, sandy beach to watch the sunset. Ahhhh. The sun setting into the Pacific Ocean - is there anything quite so lovely? The air is so crisp, but in a coat and warm clothes, it’s perfection. This place feels untouched, and it’s hard to believe there are so few people around. I wish for everyone to spend some time in this eerily lonely and wonderful spot. It is only in these spaces that you are reminded what really matters. It is in these spaces that you connect with what is real and tangible. The senses are on high alert - the sights, smells, sounds, tastes, and touches are all functioning at their best, and in symphony with one another. The birds soaring, dipping, playing…. the ice plants green and red and glowing in the light… the sand - heavy grains laced with shells - the sea - giant waves collapsing over and over and over again onto themselves and toward your toes…..the miracle of the sun setting - bringing an end to another day.

We knew we had a long drive back, so we set out before it had fully dipped to the water. What we got in our rear view mirror was a true miracle - just light. Glorious light. Filling the sky and covering the land and turning everything red and gold. The rows of cypress - glowing reddish in the distance. Tomales Bay - pink and gray and blue and shining. The mountains in the background with a pink haze covering them.

Photos don’t even do it justice - although this one does a pretty good job. I pulled the car over so many times. I just couldn’t help myself. I needed to soak it in, capture it, bring it home as a reminder of what is real and true and good when things seem bad. Seem the perfect choice of words.. because I know it to be true that in this moment, all is well. In those glorious moments in nature - if we pay attention - there is NOTHING but beauty.

We traversed the familiar winding roads back through Olema, Bolinas, Stinson, and watched the colors shimmer on the Bolinas lagoon and then from the top of the hill overlooking Stinson as the day truly turned into night - just a line of red-orange sinking into the navy sea. Those winding roads feel like a video game as you turn and wind and turn and wind up and down to Mill Valley on the other side. We debated going into town - another glass of wine? Nah - we are experiencing less is more when it comes to that these days, and it felt forced. So, instead, at 7 pm (like every day since we’ve been here… the time change never quite catching up to us) we got into our pajamas, snuggled on the couch with our respective reading materials, and I, of course, promptly fell into a dead sleep. I moved to the bed around an hour later, shivering in our chilly (non-heated except for a small portable heater) airbnb. I slept well in the wake of a wonderful day, dreaming, but not remembering the dreams. Waking, feeling so rested and content. One last day in paradise - how shall we spend it?


It’s going to…..

I often begin my Sundays with a writing prompt - usually poetry. I particulary loved this one. The prompt is:

Write about what this life, this living, has taught you, how it surprises and upends you, or delights and endears you. Write about what makes you weep with joy or sadness, or how it brings out the best of the worst in you. If you need a place to start, try using the refrain from the poem, “It’s going to…” and list all the ways in which this glorious, brutal, profound life is yours. It is going to belong to you.

This came from Amber Tamblyn, filling in for Suleika Jaouad on her beautiful “Isolation Journals” on Substack.

https://open.substack.com/pub/theisolationjournals/p/this-living?r=ldbuz&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=email

It’s going to be a sunrise

over and over again, begging you to pay attention

It’s going to sit you in the back seat

even when you’ve yelled “shotgun” at the top of your lungs

It’s going to bleed pomegranate seeds  

turning your fingers bright red  

It’s going to be a knock knock joke

“orange you glad I didn’t say banana?”

It’s going to caress your cheek, kiss it, lick it

warm you right up

Its going to wake you from a dream, toss you in a shower

tell you to keep on marching

It’s going to make you question everything

before you walk away

come back

walk away again

It’s not going to last long enough

for you to become a three million miler

…..you can’t go everywhere

Its going to kill you

for sure

It’s going to scare you

with its tenderness

and splendor

It’s going to make you wonder

at its wonder

It’s going to burn baby burn

with bad decisions

as you flirt with the arsonist

It’s going to awaken you

with butterfly kisses and piercing alarms

It’s going to hurt

a fine line between pleasure and pain

It’s going to be frittered away

with scrolling and tv and ho hum

It’s going to fly by 

some days will be long

It’s going to break you

rebuild you, and better

It’s going to leave marks

seen and unseen

It’s going to find you bedside 

saying goodbye much too soon

Its going to rock you with its miracles

help you to believe

It’s going to entice you with its magic

force you to look beyond

It’s going to swaddle you

 

It’s going to strangle you

It’s going to recreate you 

from sticks and stones and clay and rain

you will be stunning

it’s going to make no sense

a riddle, a rhyme, an off tune ditty

the answers will come, or they won’t

Its going to entice and thrill and overwhelm

a breakfast of endorphins

you will gobble them up and ask for seconds

It’s going to bore and cheat and scare and beat you

you will want to give up

until….you smell the ocean, see the moonrise, hold a hand

It’s going to make you soft

break through your shell

remind you, repeatedly, you are loved

Its going to make all you know obsolete

progress runs faster than you

It’s going to make you gasp

with delight

fall to your knees

 

It’s going to bring out your “less than” 

when you forget oneness

It’s going to be a paragraph

that should be a word

a phrase that should be better

It’s going to feel like achy joints, itchy skin, and blurry vision

as the parts fall apart

It’s going to feel like broken dreams

with happy endings

It’s going to be raw

When you long for well done

It’s going to be a puzzle

with a piece missing

a lesson in unfinished business

It’s going to be pure bliss

for a moment or five

It’s going to be wonderful and awful

It’s going to be enchanting and disillusioned

It’s going to teach you what you need to know

(on repeat, until you listen)

It’s going to remind you to love

when you hate

It’s going to cause you to laugh

and wipe away your tears

It’s going to be a mystery

much left unanswered

It’s going to be stranger than fiction

and lovely with romance

It’s going to be high peaks

and desperate valleys

It’s going to drown you

and resuscitate you

It’s going to be a sunset

beckoning, on the horizon

It’s going to be all right.  

A Poem for Christy on her 49th

I am the luckiest person alive to have incredible friendships like the one I share with Christy - friendships that are open and real and full of laughter - this poem is a gift to celebrate her birth!

we talk about everything, mostly in text, occasionally with coffee in a hotel

wrapped in a soft robe on a Westin heavenly bed.

we talk about nothing, which includes poop and poopy people

we hate and empathize, all at the same time

we talk about work and who we will be if/when we grow up

ice cream scooping, barista-ing, wine pouring, writing, and…corporate reality

we talk about things that should stay within the noodles of our own brains

because they land softly  

we re-assure, re-assign, re-invigorate, re-call, re-evaluate, re-enact, re-design, 

and, re-gurgitate the next day

we talk about love and loss and hope and meatballs and cheese and calzone

with equal intensity

we talk about our bodies, not what they used to be

glad they still run, walk, bike, swim, yoga, stretch, meditate

we talk about our husbands, imperfect

yet so lovable

we talk about oceans and dreams

because they go hand in hand  

we talk about money and poverty and horror and beauty and politics and religion and death

because nothing is off limits 

we talk about momming

the joys, the shocks, the hope, the work, the glee, the terror, the courage

we talk about the wonderful yet spell out what needs work

because we care  

we talk about the beauty and the strength

holding the fragile and flawed, with tenderness

we talk about time passing and leaves changing

recognizing…we only have now

we talk about fear. so much fear. 

together, we punch that shit in the face

we talk about pimples and guts and colons and cancer and open-hearts

because we are doctors 

we talk about shame 

encourage forgiveness 

we talk in emojis

and code, understanding completely

we ask the hard questions as softly as possible

sometimes…we scream them

we talk about being assholes

because we can be them (we call it self-awareness)

we talk about spaghetti and bread and chocolate and pineapple

because food is our love language

we talk about holding on, holding tight, holding space

knowing it all works out in the end

and it is not the end

we talk while we walk through AirPods

crankily snapping - wtf I can’t hear you 

we talk about drivel and marvel

sometimes in the same sentence

we curse, compliment, celebrate, cooperate, calm, capitulate, confide

because we like c-words

we talk about what is funny - everything IS

and laugh until we pee

we celebrate another year lived well, together

with gratitude. and joy.

Ora

 I wake up today feeling a bit more optimistic and less exhausted.  Thank goodness.  I had a rough couple of days.  It’s been a long few months.  I am a few days from being out of a weird long limbo period at work, and frankly I just had a shift in mindset - a shift  from pushing to letting go.  Truly.  A shift from worrying about the past or the future (mostly future) and just standing on Stinson Beach watching the seagulls; these cute little birds that stand on one leg to stay warm.  They stick their heads back in their feathers to self soothe. Let’s talk about self soothing - what I know doesn’t work (or doesn’t soothe)  is screaming fuck at the top of your lungs in your rental car with the broken out window.  I don’t know, actually, maybe that did help a little bit! I know what doesn’t help is letting the negative thoughts spin wildly out of control as your brain prepares for every last potential negative scenario - as if by picturing it, you can make it NOT happen, as if by planning for it, you can predetermine the outcome. I know what doesn’t work is getting all worked up and feeling hateful toward everyone around you.  None of that works. What works? Letting go.  Truly.  Giving it all up to the universe in a real way, and being present in THIS moment.  The cycle of “planning ahead and preparing for all scenarios” is my Achille’s heel.  This cycle is why I got my tattoo that says “ora” - which means “now” in Italian.  I literally have this permanently inked on my skin - right on my wrist where I can see it… and still, I forget.  Over and over and over again, I forget. I forget that all we have is right now, THIS moment.  Then, I have to forgive myself - forgive myself for being human, and forgive myself for drifting toward this dark place. Breathe. Relax. Let go. I also know that maybe, just maybe, going to that dark place once in awhile really is what helps you get out of it, over it, through it… all the prepositions of it!  How do I learn to self-soothe, like the seagulls?  I can look externally for soothing - I can read positive articles, look at cute photos of baby cows on Instagram, linger in the hug of my wonderful husband, try to force myself to look to the light, but ultimately, it is only through “self” soothing that you finally get through it.  It is only when you recognize that, as Wayne Dyer said,  “You cannot always control what goes on outside. But you can always control what goes on inside”.  In order to control what goes on inside, though, you do have to work through it in one way or another - not ignore it. 

I just have to FEEL it all - I can’t just stuff down the emotions that come simmering to the surface. I also can’t dwell there forever.  How do I find the balance? This is always the question.  Finding the balance - and knowing that balance doesn’t exist.  Everything real and true in life is a paradox. Just giving myself the space and time to feel what I need to feel, all the while, under the surface, knowing that, like everything, this too shall pass.  It always does.  I was worried yesterday when I woke up and the dark still hadn’t passed. I woke up and felt so exhausted and so sad and just so…. spent.

I recognize that what I am feeling is extreme burnout.  This burnout likely comes from years spent trying to prove I’m good enough, smart enough, worthy enough, and that I can handle the heaps of responsibility thrown on my shoulders.  It likely also stems from years of trying to prove something to many someones, years of pushing myself to learn more, be more, take on more, do more, constantly striving for some kind of external validation.   This pressure comes on top of trying to be a good wife, a good mom, a good friend, a creative person.  The creativity has saved me. I love the advice - write about what fucking hurts (I added the fucking - it just adds flavor)- it always helps in the healing process.  The poetry workshops, a creative retreat in Italy, the daily writing, being swept away by beautiful music or art….the leaning into the right side of my brain is what has and always will remind me of who I am underneath it all.  It heals me. The left side of my brain continually tries to take over with the “facts” of - you are not a trained writer (who do you think you are writing poetry or stories or opinions about things?), AND you should find the logical answer to whatever question you are asking.  Facts are facts.  Dwell in reality please!  The right side of my brain fights its way into my psyche with thoughts of intuition and magic and wonder.  This is where I want to live.  I don’t  want to be a crazy person who ONLY lives in magical thinking, but I want to recognize the right side (and daily!, in the words of Mary Oliver) as my guide and my best friend.  There is a lot of left brain in my day to day, but I don’t want rationality and fear to guide my every move. I want to allow room for serendipity and joy and miracles.    

Doors have repeatedly been closing for me.  I know there is a reason.  I don’t know what the reason is, but I do know that given the Herculean effort I put into opening these doors, the fact that they closed means there is something bigger, better, and beyond my imagination waiting for me. The universe is on my side.  I know this to be true. I even SLAMMED a door shut myself recently which wasn’t easy for me to do (what if the treasure lies behind THAT door?). In my photo memories today, a photo of this quote popped up.  What a powerful thought -  “Saying no may feel like a great risk.  But you are better off moving forward with patience so that the right people and opportunities have time to fully intersect with your path.”  What a novel concept!!  What is going to “fully intersect with my path”?  “Moving forward with patience” feels like an oxymoron to me.  Patience to me always feels like standing still, and fuck if I don’t hate to stand still. Standing still feels lazy. Standing still results in nothing getting done.  Patience is a virtue, but it has never been one of mine. What if I looked at patience as a form of moving forward?  What if NOT moving is actually moving?  The Tao de Ching has this as a core premise. “Water is fluid, soft, and yielding.  But water will wear away rock, which is rigid and cannot yield.  As a rule, whatever is fluid, soft and yielding will overcome whatever is rigid and hard.  This is another paradox: what is soft is strong.”  What if I am fluid, soft, yielding, and PATIENT? What if I visualize that? I don’t have to be taking action, walking, running, wriggling, jumping, pushing TOWARD something. Just let the water flow. Yield. I just need to float on the raft of uncertainty down the “I don’t know” river.  I’m still moving, but I am not in control. This is the underlying issue.  My “go to” in my life has been taking control when things feel out of control. It has served me well, on repeat!  It has gotten me out of tough situations, it has gotten me all over the world, it has gotten me jobs, it has gotten me new houses, it has gotten me great grades, it has gotten me divorced (which was ALWAYS a good, albeit hard, thing).  Simultaneously, when I REALLY look back at these situations…. WAS I in control, or just operating in the illusion of control? Was there a force, a wind, a current, that was propelling me toward what would be?  Had I been served up “whatever situation” to teach me something, to open my eyes to something, to train me, to prove that I am, in fact, NEVER in control?  When I think about the BEST things in my life… the VERY best…meeting my husband on a random flight from Detroit to Ft. Wayne, having my children, stumbling upon my dream home, landing the BEST jobs in my career, making wonderful friends, finding a magical beach in the middle of nowhere, money falling out of the sky when I most needed it…. all of these things were NOT things I pushed, they were things that unfolded - things that were served up to me. What if I look at every day as the unfolding? What will unfold today? What magic is there for me to absorb? What miracle is waiting to happen? 

When I get in a funk or deep in my ruminating head…. I need to examine the circumstances… I would almost bet my life that when I find myself in that awful place, I have created it.  I have created it through pushing, trying to control, having expectations, and thinking that it is all up to ME.  What an incredibly heavy burden I carry when I walk that path!  It’s like a damn backpack full of heavy books.  I am reminded of my adorable 10 year old little boy on a family camping trip. He was complaining about the weight of his backpack as we were hiking in to the campsite.  I reached over to grab it and help him for a bit, and oh my God it felt like 75 pounds.  I asked him what on earth he had in there.   He said - you told me to use my school backpack, so I did. I had told him to use his school backpack.   I unzipped it to find ALL of his textbooks!  He had just loaded his clothes on top of the books.  I guess my direction should have been more specific. I still chuckle when I think about it.  It’s a good lesson in unloading what you DON’T need.  I don’t NEED to carry the weight of everything (an entire semester of textbooks) ALL the time.  I can put things down, and then, when I’m feeling stronger, pick them back up again.  Or, just pick up ONE of them.  Who told me I am the pack mule for ALL things?  This is some protective mechanism I developed over the course of my life.  I need to carry all things because, if I don’t, who WILL?  

My lived experience until recent years has been just that.  Everything was on my shoulders (or at least that was my perception, my surety and my safety net)…. I didn’t have parents capable of physical, emotional, or spiritual support.  I didn’t choose husbands that supported me in the way I needed them to, and I had a lot of people depending on me. Growing up while feeling immense lack and a deep sense of “alone” shaped me.  It shaped me in a way that I need to work on UNDOING as an adult.  I am no longer that scared child. I am a grown-ass capable and lovable middle aged woman who has everything she could ever want and need. When I am triggered or stressed or anxious, all of that comes rushing back to me.  It’s a fight or flight response for sure.   Triggers bring out our worst selves and show us what still needs to be healed. That healing might take a lifetime. That rush of adrenaline, cortisol, “get er done” bullshit is no longer helpful to me; it’s  hurtful, in fact.  I have support.  I am not alone. I just need to remember this in my dark moments.  And sometimes I also just need to scream fuck at the top of my lungs in the rental car with the broken window.  Then, I need to go watch seagulls on the beach, knowing that all I have is right here, right now.  Ora. There is deep comfort in letting go.  If only I can figure out how.  I know I am getting better, I don’t have to be perfect, and in THIS moment, everything is just fine.  My Instagram just served me up this - “There will always be someone who doesn’t see your worth. Don’t let it be you”. (Mel Robbins). You are ok.  Right here.  Right now.  Ora.

If you need a great playlist - enjoy this one! Music is good for the soul.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3MbApcoIVgHsOw4p25TGiY?si=120dc603d1d1486a

Poetry writing prompt

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

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

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

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

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

When I Am Among the Trees

by Mary Oliver

When I am among the trees,

especially the willows and the honey locust,

equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,

they give off such hints of gladness.

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

I am so distant from the hope of myself,

in which I have goodness, and discernment,

and never hurry through the world

but walk slowly, and bow often.

Around me the trees stir in their leaves

and call out, “Stay awhile.”

The light flows from their branches.

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

“and you too have come

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

with light, and to shine.”

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

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

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

When I am among the trees

Especially the willows and the honey locust,

Equally the beech, the oaks, and the pines,

They give off such hints of gladness.

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

I am so distant from the hope of myself,

In which I have goodness, and discernment,

And never hurry through the world

But walk slowly, and bow often.

Around me the trees stir in their leaves

And call out, “stay awhile”

The light flows from their branches

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

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

With light, and to shine.”

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

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

When I stop

And look up

Through the branches 

As the sun

Drips gently through

It is only then

That I pause, and

Stop my scurrying

Stop my worrying

Fill my lungs with 

The damp clean air

Wrap my arms 

Around my best friends

Who are

Standing in a circle

Majestically

Reaching for the sky

Their rich, red, wood

Tickling my nose

With earth

And time

And glory

The Gift

It was delivered not from the postman 

    Not by courier or plane or train

It was a present that was not 

    Wrapped

It revealed itself through a million tiny signals

It showed me through the details

(it is always in the details)

It was exemplified in both action and words

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

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

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

It felt like the friend who picked up the phone

     And gently held my heart

It was visible in my dog’s big brown eyes

      Looking to me for the next rub of her fur

And the nuzzle into her neck

It appeared in the tender text

      The I miss you

It blossomed from the

      I’m here to help

It made itself known in the good morning hug

      And the steamy mug of coffee

It unfolded from the

     I believe in you

       And the

     You are good enough

It erupted from hope

It arose from joy

It evolved from the tears

It superseded all that ever was

It came

It stayed

It ran me over like a semi truck

   Laying me out

   Exposing my soul

   Creating space

   Forcing out judgement

   Accepting all as is

It wrapped its arms around me 

It has been there 

   Through thick and thin

   And challenge and triumph

      And pain and ecstasy

          And music and silence

              And hot and cold

                  And sweet and bitter

It saved me

This love

The greatest gift of all

International Women's Day

To all the incredible women in my life

2023 Theme #embraceequity

What is it to be a woman?

Both glorious and tedious

Birthing and rebirth

Always the rebirth

Morphing growing showing

Up.

Balancing it all

Or not

Nevertheless moving forward

In awe of the wonder

That is this 

Life

So full of opportunities

To love

To give

To share

To bow down

To all the women who came before

Who created the path

By paving the way with blood, sweat, tears 

And life itself

Two steps forward

One step back

Yet still moving in the right direction

Grace and beauty and brilliance and compassion and empathy

All rolled into

Two x chromosomes

Capable of

Standing alone

Or 

Standing beside

But no more

Will we follow behind. 

Poetry inspired by Poetry

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

Love After Love

The time will come

when, with elation,

you will greet yourself arriving

at your own door, in your own mirror,

and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.

You will love again the stranger who was your self.

Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart

to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored

for another, who knows you by heart.

Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,

peel your own image from the mirror.

Sit. Feast on your life.

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

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

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

Yet gorgeous

And buoyant

And brilliant

Who feels

And thinks

And stretches to reach the stars and the moon

In all their glory

Who awakens for a sunrise

Without fail

With sand between my toes and under my nails

Who weeps

And laughs

With utter abandon

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

Welcoming change

The only constant 

Yet sometimes

Curling into a ball of fear

Like a roly poly 

Then stretching again

And using my legs and running as fast as I can

Toward all

That is

And all

That might 

Be

Post Pandemic Poem

What did we learn?

The world is back

I think

As I see the planes lining up in the sky

One

After another

After another

Seemingly seconds apart

Drifting toward the airport

Skies

Empty for nearly

Two years

Now alive again

Like the cafe down the street

With millennials

Lined up down the block

Up down?

Awaiting the latest hippest spot

All of the hunkering down

And staying in

A slight memory

The fear

The angst

The masks

Tucked away

Like old photographs

Shoved in a drawer

It was all so real

And now 

Life

Comes speeding back at us

Is that what we want?

Is there a middle ground?

What have we learned?

What do we value?

Can we slow down

In a world that has been pent up

Longing

Longing

For what had been lost

And now found

And yet

There are things 

To keep

From that strange time

The nature

The gatherings outdoors

The fire pits

The singing from the balconies

The camaraderie

From a distance

The writing and reading

The breath

Found

To calm the anxiety

The trees

The birds

The cleaner air

The family

Home. 

Running Joy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Run on my friends……grateful for YOU.  

California moments

We are here.  In my happiest of places.  

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

Where I breathe in deeply with awe and wonder

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

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

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

cocking its eyebrow

as if thinking - why are you here? 

this is my habitat 

taking its time, lightly stepping down the road

gracefully ambling off the shoulder

to the woods

for a leafy breakfast

Where the mountains meet the next small town and then  

the sea. 

Where the Dipsea,  so aptly named

dips up and down and up and down to

the sea.

Where I stop

everywhere

anywhere

and wrap my arms around a tree

breathing in the years

it took to grow

celebrating this moment

right here

right now

Eucalyptus leaves on the dash of the car

taking that smell with me

windows down

singing 70s tunes 

with abandon

off key

no matter

feels great

windows down

glorious glorious

California

ocean 

meets beaches 

meet mountains 

meet valleys 

meet redwoods 

meet grapes

oysters

and wine

and joy

oh my

my pace

and my breath

and my heart

tell me I am home

Heavy heart

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

I woke up with a sick feeling in my stomach

thinking about those sweet elementary school children

thinking about the safe space that a school should be

thinking about the joy school brought me as a child

the joy it brought me as a mom

every time I walked into a school to be room mom

or secret reader

I smiled

because there’s something so special

about a school full of children

something so special about the adults who have 

committed their lives to teaching others

to bringing smiles to faces 

to making learning fun

I think about laughter in the hallways

pushing and shoving and giggling

in the lunch line

finger painting

alphabet reciting

song singing

those tiny voices shrill with glee

playground playing

running, sweating, tagging

times tables

science projects

story time

quiet reading 

all shattered by

the sound of gunfire

the screams

the devastation

for no reason

no reason at all

a place that should be a respite

from the evil of the world

instead

a magnet for it

why must our children pay the price

for the politics

the votes

the power

Let the magic continue.....

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


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


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

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

I had many other learnings on this trip as well

  1. You’re never in control

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

  3. Beauty really is everywhere

4. Magic happens when you least expect it

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Perfect Day

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

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

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


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


Lilies and Birdsong

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

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

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

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

When I am Among the Trees

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

You can listen to it here, read by Amanda Palmer

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

My favorite part….. and bow often.

Poetry as a travel journal

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

Sisterhood

means a lot of things

but mostly means big love

warm acceptance

gracious understanding  

similarities and the differences 

bind us and 

make us complementary pieces 

of a bigger puzzle

first stop sky club

all the laughs

together again

way too long

forget the oj

just the bubbles please

board the plane

yay the upgrades

chatter chatter

first stop 

buy the special pens

the energy the calm

where to park

Ferry building

not as bustling

as precovid

but wine store open

for a tasting

of big fat cabs

first meal of cheese and bread

one of many

getting dark

start the drive down the coast

glorious half moon rising above

fertile green cliffs

crashing waves

rolling hills of golf and play

was our opening act

my pleasure

graces our ears

with every request

all the water

all the chocolate

Brendan at your service

search for plates

not actually twice as nice

but wedged between the shovels and paint

Ace it is

three just waiting for us

its a sign 

shower and primp

and trade and exchange until we feel lovely

and ready for the field

hats and boots and lipstick 

vaccine cards at the ready

bubbly wine goes down like kombucha

not bad, not good

all the pictures

cows and sheep and dogs and horses

surround us

appreciating the dirt, the land, the soil

that brings us food - beast and plant

nurtured by humans creating

pleasure and sustenance for the world 

breathtaking views

stunning landscapes

all the photos

posing smiling fake laughing real laughing

hats and boots and dresses and Jim

the gorgeous view ever changing

as the time passes

sun dipping, dipping, and shining on 

our smiling faces

smells of farms and citrus

the long table sits wayyyyyy in the distance

making new friends

before and during 

a dinner that was stunning

if bland

the light, the sea, the setting sun

delightful 

the sky pink then orange then glowing

the earth embracing us

with all its wonder

dirt caking our boots

and filling our hearts

special delivery via red and white bus

OUTSTANDING

four wheeler back

bumpity bump

that half moon bright and light and 

guiding us back

to the warm 

sheets of luxury


solitary run over the hills

time alone to breathe and think

and soak in the gratitude

for this day

this life

so abundant

goin to California with an achin…

in my heart

breakfast delivered

room service twice

early coffee

late breakfast

the pack up the movement

the drive north

through the hilly city

roll down the window!

smell the eucalyptus

mixed with sea and fog

sun breaking through

temperatures temperate

brilliant blue sky

echoing joy back to us

Rams gate arrival

now the delicious food

lesson in pure creativity

beautiful views

glorious sun

pricey lunch

worth all the pennies

PUT IT IN THE APP

pleasant buzz of ok wine

fuels us on the journey north

where to next?

can’t decide

coastal drive 

beautiful and brutal 

hairpin curves

jaw dropping views

all the ocean below around in front of us

the cliffs dropping 

to the crashing waves

keep the car steady

take all the photos (not the driver)

focus  focus  focus

on the road ahead

past Fort Ross

something about Russians

google later

no service

no directions

just keep going

all the way to Jenner

then beyond

Timber cove

fire pit and sea flowers

stretching to the rocks

as the giant orange orb

meets the sea

worth the drive

better go

sky is darkening

long drive back

playlist going

all the mellow tunes

feeling the wine

are we hungry?

not many options

onward to Monte Rio

over the hills

around the bend

between the trees and ocean

deer in the road

be careful around the curves

breathe in breathe out

finally deep deep into the trees

nestled between the redwoods

we find our sanctuary

packed too much

up the stairs

heave ho

settle in

where to eat must find food

Northwood Restaurant

French Laundry of Monte Rio

neon signs

local crowd

Chili and salad 

eww the gas tummies ache

sit outside breathe the cool air

must sleep

morning views 

foggy sleepy peaceful

walks and runs

movement is good

buy all the pastries

irish bread every flavor

coffee coffee coffee

get pretty

blow the breaker

too many hairs to dry

back in the giant ride

heading over the hills and through the woods

grapevines yellow and red and orange and gold

breathtaking beauty around every curve

better wine

all the tastes

more photo ops with gorgeous views

beautiful birthday girl and her sidekicks

into town for some lunch

distracted by clothing and blankets and earrings

oh my

Oakville grocery

picnic time!

a gentle Merlot for the compromise

along with Mt Tam cheese

fresh baguette

various treats

lemon cookies top it off 

no time to shop save for later

on to vineyard number two

find a head

to try on hat

drink the wine

smile pose mountains behind

setting sun

glorious light

all the light 

all the time

surrounding, embracing, and shining upon us

random stop

italian wine, olio

walk the gardens

sky turns pink

gingko towels

wine more wine to top us off

all the laughter

into Healdsburg 

browse the art

buy the things

gifts and treats

wine making eyelids droop

dark so early

7 pm? ready for bed?

pizza it is

meh too much cheese

but bread and cheese

in any form

is never wrong.

no more wine

just cannot. 

cannot.

cannot.

Back to home

in the woods

nestled in the trees

for our last sleep and pack

the time went by oh so fast

how can it be time to leave?

there is more wine to drink

more shops to shop

more beauty to smell and see and touch and taste

more nature for prayer

more stories to tell

back to the airport

tired

don’t wanna go

bagels for the final meal

kombucha instead of wine

drive drive

drop the car

walk entire airport

bags overweight

how did that happen

200 bucks

crowded sky club

onto plane

for the long journeys home

so many laughs

so much love

all the joy

all the pictures

never more grateful


until next time


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

a little more poetry

A Poem about a part of speech

prepositions

have been a part of me

since the 6th grade

still remember

like she said I would

that 4 foot 5 inch little teacher

who showed me the world

was at my fingertips

and I could say all the things

by writing

and using

the phrases that would take me

into the future

over that hurdle

through the muck

around the bend

aboard a ship

above the ground

amid the chaos

behind the scenes

between the moments

during the times

inside my mind

under until up upon the ideas

with all the  phrases coming together 

without end

Saturday

weekends when I 

roast beets

eat greens

bake bread

bring joy to my soul

the nesting at home

with Spotify 

going loud and strong

in the background 

typing 

words onto a screen

magazines and books 

strewn across the couch

nothing to do nowhere to go

the post run endorphins

calm my mind

and

fresh squeeze the juice of

creativity


A Moveable Feast

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— Greg Marchand

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

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

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

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