Icebergs.

Life is funny. I think it's the unexpected things that influence our life paths more than all the things we plan. Things like when I was placed in a French class (instead of my first choice of Spanish or second choice of Latin), or the chance timing of meeting someone and falling in love, or starting a new hobby. Sometimes change feels like a river whose path has shifted a little, and sometimes change is so dramatic that it creates a rupture, leaving behind only a Before and After.

I think about how my life's own Before and After as I stare into my closet and consider why I no longer wear certain outfits. Perhaps internal change is a lot like an iceberg whose only manifestation is the relatively small bit on the surface. We can grasp what's visible, but understanding its actual depth and nature is more difficult.

Résilience.

This morning I watched this video about a goat that made me cry. The concern and commitment of the caregivers was moving, but it was seeing the little goat's determination that left me with tears running off my face and dropping onto my sternum. The goat kept going, despite adversity, with an attitude that I interpret as thankfulness. And not happiness, but joy. I was taught from an early age that joy is different than happiness because it is independent of external circumstances.

The other day I saw that a library in my town had added the word "résilience," written in huge silver capital letters, all across one side of the building. It's much larger than a billboard, and I took it as a message of encouragement from the universe to keep going. It is a reminder that that we can bounce back from adversity, that the human spirit is strong.

A slow train to spring.

Crocuses are late
Only snowdrops have arrived
A slow train to spring
— Kim Philipps, 48, Bronxville, NY. 

I thought spring would come with Easter. 

It was gorgeous outside this afternoon on my walk home from work. I enjoyed the sun and thought about how I felt at home in my town. Recently, I spent too much time online looking for the (seemingly nonexistent) perfect pair of gladiator sandals in Canada. Despite this, I still feel like I am somehow in between winter and spring.

Making room for Style.

Often I'll come home from work and do some sort of household task as a way of transitioning from work to home. Many days it's dishes or laundry, but today I suddenly found myself switching out the books in the bookshelf closest to the spot on the couch where I most often sit.

My books were previously organized loosely by category on four bookcases, three in a row on one side of the living room and one on the other side, closest to my favorite spot on the couch. Tonight I came home looking for a place for The Chicago Manual of Style, which I just got in the mail today. I finally ordered it for myself after having it on my wish list and wanting it for 3+ years. The other day I just realized that I write, so I should probably own this excellent resource.

Anyhow, there I was with the thick style book and instead of just squeezing it in somewhere, I decided I needed to rearrange my books in that solo bookcase. Right then.

Darkness and light and the belly of the whale.

I've been thinking a lot about darkness and light, death and rebirth, and the journey into the belly of the whale.

In writing about the monomyth, Joseph Campbell described three overarching stages of the journey: departure, initiation and return. The last step of the departure stage is the journey into the belly of the whale, where the hero seems to be swallowed up by death.

Things Not to Say.

When someone tells you that their husband/wife/partner left them for someone else suddenly without any warning signs at all, here are some things it's probably best not to say out loud to that person.

"C'est la vie." 

Choosing thanks.

As I sit at home with Booboo in my lap, I look at the snow outside and think of life and it's unexpected turns. Sometimes life's surprises are exhilarating, sometimes they're excruciating, and sometimes they're just...different.

It's American Thanksgiving, but since that's not a holiday here, it feels like a normal day. Thursday. Except it's not just Thursday, so I am choosing to focus on what I am thankful for today. I have a purring Booboo in my lap, I have a home to live in that is within walking distance of most of what I need, I have a job I enjoy (and freelance opportunities I love), and family and friends that love me and support me. I am lucky...blessed...and thankful. I'm also thankful for hope that everything will be alright in the end and that life has good things in store for me in the future, despite the hell of these past months. It may not always feel that way, but I will choose to believe it anyways. Life does have a way of surprising us, after all.

Digging before the ground freezes.

"It doesn’t go away, the importance you put on one single person, the value that he had for you, the assumption that you would lie beside him forever; the hope you had for your union is so great that the loss of it doesn’t go away. To move forward you have to dig an internal grave and intentionally put that hope to rest. People will try to help you, but you must do it yourself. You bury it like a body in the earth and pray that whatever it was for you will give life to something else—like a tree—and hope that with every year that new life will become bigger, stronger, and more beautiful. But that loss doesn’t ever go away, not entirely."
-Isabel Gillies, A Year and Six Seconds: A Love Story (p. 32)

So we signed the divorce paperwork. It was the saddest thing I have ever done in my life.

Around here (in no particular order).

• On Saturday, I opened the fridge and found the cocoa powder in there. Oops.
• I have only been to the grocery store twice since June. I have been to the market at the Old Port twice or so for fresh veggies and to the corner convenience store a lot. Somehow this is working for me.
• I am working on a challenging and fun artistic freelance project.
• Did the title of this post make anyone else think of Counting Crows circa 1994?
• I only have about a month more with Booboo and that thought makes me so terribly sad I can't think about it too long.
• This summer I finally found coffee beans that make coffee I really enjoy. I used to like the beans from this one place near my apartment, but then the coffee started tasting like dirt. After I inquired about why their coffee now tasted like "la terre," as I put it in French, I found out that they had changed the blend's mix of beans. Unable to find anything better, we drank overpriced, dirt-flavoured coffee with a hint of "burnt" for months. Finally, I decided to experiment with beans from a different place in the neighborhood. My first try was an improvement but a little weak; the second try was perfect. I am now on my third bag of that coffee. No more dirt coffee for me.
• I finally ordered beautiful embossed stationery with both our names on it in mid-June. A lifetime supply probably. I went with stationery instead of an address stamp, because I figured our address was likely to change at some point. It was a little too risky. I had the beautiful cream correspondance cards shipped to my parents' home, and they arrived just before everything exploded. I never saw the stationery, which is probably for the best. I had been so unreasonably excited about that goregous stationary with our names embossed on it. I guess it will get recycled.
• Thankfully I had also ordered some for myself with my monogram. My dad mailed that to me, and I have been thoroughly enjoying using it.
• My car turned 20 years old in April. But I don't drive very much anymore. Maybe once a week, often less. But the car works well still, much to my surprise and happiness.
• I find I love having a life that is so local. I love walking to work and having most everything I need a short distance from where I live.
• I am not looking forward to winter coming. I keep telling myself if I can survive 'til spring life will look better. I just need to survive this death of our marriage and my life as I had expected it and make it to spring and wait on some sort of rebirth.
• Shoveling. Ugh. Do I need to say anything more?
• I have a bag of green tomatoes in the fridge. I bought them to do fried green tomatoes. I have been unable to motivate myself to do that though. My level of energy is more on the basic sandwich-level of Maslow's hierarchy of culinary needs.
• Last week I spent $11 and some change at the thrift store and got a pair of jeans, a skirt, and a top that all fit. This helps. Baggy jeans do not.
• I was undecided on the skirt but thought that for $3, it was worth a shot. Once I got it home, I realized it is kind of the perfect skirt. It is black with thin pinstripes, plus it's quick drying and ideal for travelling. A pretty great find.
• It's still raining. I don't mind.

Love and mortality.

Just read a beautiful article in the New York Times: Michelle Fiordaliso's "Paralysis of the Heart." This is the part I found most moving:

I thought about the fact that eventually one of us will stand at the other’s funeral. That day will come, and no amount of list making or numbness can keep it away. I didn’t know if the moments between my sitting on his bed and a funeral were few or many. All we can do is make the moments we have matter.

I put that on my list: savor our time together. Check.

The article is about her relationship with her son, but the feelings she talks about would apply to anyone we love.

A new chapter.

Photo credit: S

I finally finished the project I have been working on since moving to Canada. Though it took longer than expected, it is completed and I am pleased with how it came out.

I feel as if I have walked up to some French doors with a beachfront view, flung them open, and stepped onto a weathered wooden deck. I pause in the sun with my barefoot feet warmed by the planks. Closing my eyes to the brilliant sparkle of the sun, I deeply inhale the salty fresh air. The sea whispers truth about life and time and meaning, while seagulls in the distance squawk the pleasure of spring and new beginnings.

Edit: I accidentally unpublished this and am guessing the exact date of the original posting.

Well, I'm still here.

Hello! It's been a while. Nothing dramatic has been going on here; it's just been cold and wintry and I guess I have been hibernating a bit. Or maybe it's that I blog so much for work? Who knows. Or quite possibly, it could be the impending deadline of a big project I'm working on. Which reminds me...I should probably be working on that now.

Anyhow, before I go back to that project, I wanted to share some links of a number of interesting articles I've recently read that address societal changes in regards to marriage, singlehood, and concepts of community. Enjoy!

• The Atlantic's All The Single Ladies
• The New York Times' The M.R.S. And the Ph.D.
• The New York Times' One's A Crowd
• The New York Times' Alone Again, Naturally
• The New York Times' Room for Debate: Being Alone Together
  

Deux.

Photo credit: Martin Dallaire

Today is our second wedding anniversary.

And we are approximately 4589 miles apart (as the crow flies) with an ocean between us. S is scheduled to return tomorrow (unless, you know, transportation strikes in Greece prevent that), so we are going to celebrate after he is back home and after we decide what we want to do exactly. The only thing nailed down so far is the exchange of anniversary letters/notes, which is a tradition we started last year.

It's hard to believe it's been two years already. Sometimes the wedding just doesn't seem very long ago. I mean, we only recently got some wedding photos printed, put in frames, and hung because I finally became convinced that it needed to be done before our second anniversary rolled around. And I must say that I love wandering by and stopping to look at the photos. Unfortunately, the same determination did not carry over to the (still non-existent) wedding album. Maybe I can manage to do that before our third anniversary? Oh, and we still want to take a (belated) honeymoon sometime. (Though I wonder if we can still even call it that, this far into the game?) Now that I can come and go from Canada without the risk of being turned away at the border, we can start thinking towards this more concretely...

Twenty-five-and-a-half months ago, I was in Chicago, on the verge of moving to Québec and marrying S. It was an intense time of change. Since my move, we got engaged, got married, had a 10 month-long back-and-forth-between-two-cities living arrangement, did our first international travel together (Italy), made two more (in-country) moves resulting in us finally living in only one apartment together, established our combined home together, tried to potty-train our cat, prepared and submitted my immigration application, waited through seven months of unknowing which made for a challenging winter, and then received news of my approval for permanent residency while on our second international trip together in Paris this past May. That was monumental in that it removed the undercurrent of fear that I had felt when I would think about the possibility that we could be separated from each other. It also felt like I finally could begin putting down roots here outside of the walls of our apartment, and start integrating more with the community. I looked for work and then got two jobs, which I started this fall. When I think through the last 24-ish months that way, I realize that these first two years of our marriage have been chock full of change.


But despite that, it's felt somehow stable because we did it together. The best thing has been just living and doing normal day-to-day stuff with my love who is also my best friend. Sometimes I still just can't believe how fortunate I am to have found the person I want to share my life with—and we even get to live in the same place! (Maybe this never gets old for people that go through years of long-distance?) There are times when I can't get over how fun it is just to hang out together doing normal things, and it feels like being at summer camp.

Two years feels more substantial somehow. Kinda like being in my thirties feels different than my twenties, in a really good way.

The Happiness of Now.

This week, I read a thought-provoking New York Times article called, "When The Mind Wanders, Happiness Also Strays." After research into mind-wandering (both positive day-dreaming and also worrying) and happiness levels, the conclusion is that people fully focused in the moment are more happy than even those who are day-dreaming about something positive. The article references the idea of "flow," which is simply when one is fully focused on the moment and what one is doing in that moment. You know when you get so caught up in doing something and completely lose track of time and everything else? That is "flow" and this article says that it is the state of highest happiness. The article also points out that, at any given moment, forty-seven percent of people have wandering minds. So, about half of all people are not Fully Present in any given instant. Which I find discouraging. And totally believable, given how "connected" (distracted?) our society has become overall. (And I include myself in this assessment.)

Thinking back to a particularly intense summer of theatre training and the idea of "flow" and focus, I am reminded of how all the training came down to the idea of being focused, present, and completely open in every moment onstage. One of the instructors said it was as if, when each foot landed on the stage, the left foot said "I'm here," followed by the right foot's own equally strong assertion, "I'm here." Actors in this deep state of focus who also can maintain openness are completely compelling onstage. Often focus in life creates tunnel-vision, but this training emphasized acting with focus while maintaining openness. It was difficult, beautiful, invigorating, and exhausting. And although this state of awareness is amazing, it is important to point out that living at this state of deep awake-ness to everything-all-the-time in life would be unhealthy and unsustainable. It is good to be able to tune out some things while in transit or sleeping or whatever. That ability keeps us sane.

Anyhow, that summer was the most physically challenging thing I have ever done, but it was amazing to spend so much of the summer actually being in the moment. In my head, I am all about the idea of seizing the day, but in reality, I am much more the kind of person who spends the present planning for the future. However, this training required so much energy and focus, there was only enough to give to the present. I don't remember worrying much that summer; I just remember existing moment to moment, as each day fully stretched me and allowed no room for the unnecessary. The experience was life-changing and courage-instilling. I felt like if I could survive that summer, I could do anything. When the summer ended, I went back home and started acting on one of my Big Dreams. And I pulled it off, then rested a bit because it was rather exhausting. Then, when I was ready, I pursued two other Big Dreams, at the same time. And that led to an international move, job change, and new adventures. And some fatigue. Going after dreams is invigorating and sometimes tiring, because pursuing Big Dreams is hard work, after all.

I guess it would not be an overstatement to say that summer of training changed the course of my artistic journey, which changed the course of my life. Here I am, over four years after that summer training program, in a different country, several projects later. I am mid-project on a project I care very much about, but am currently in a not-so-fun part of it. It's hard to stay focused on this part that feels So Very Much Like Hard Work, so I can get to the part I am most passionate about. I want to plow through to the other artistically fun side of the project though, and I am taking steps to get there. But realistically? It's going to take a while. And that feels disheartening.

And in moments every now and then, my mind my wanders off into the land of "what ifs" and I find myself confronting the unknown, wondering about this project and how it will end up, and questioning the bigger picture beyond this project. Will I be able to pursue a career in theatre in Québec? What about language- how is that going to impact my career here? Will I have to have a soul-killing day job just for the income? Are there other things I am interested in pursuing as a career or side-career that might actually be able to bring in income? I have a lot of passions and interests, but I don't know how many actually have income-potential. And then the possibility of having a kid someday floats around in there too, but I won't get into that now, because I only have so much energy and ability to handle unknowns, you know?

So, I sorta I feel like I am in-between career islands. I feel amazed to have ended up where I am and to have had the experiences I have had thus far, but I'm not so sure exactly where I want to go from here and what might be possible given where I now live. And since I don't know those answers right now, maybe it's best to focus on the present and hope the rest becomes more clear in the not too distant future. Maybe I can stop feeling in-between and just stop and look at my left foot and say, "I'm here," and follow through with the right one after it? Yes, that is what I think I will work on for now.

PS. Interestingly, this article I also read the same day in the NYT talks about Mark Rylance and improv, addressing the idea of being present and fully open. Maybe I am supposed to get the message?

A bigger hole, setbacks, and wonderings.

Well, it's been a while since I've updated on the process of toilet training our cat, Booboo. Here are the first, second, and third posts on our process. Up through the time of that last post, it was a very smooth and natural adjustment for Booboo. Then at the end of September, S changed the hole in the litter box from a soda can to a yogurt container.

This means it became much easier for Booboo's paw to slip down the hole and land in the toilet water, so he has had to learn how to navigate around it. Going from a soda can to a yogurt container was a bit of a jump in size, but we were confident Booboo could handle it. Unfortunately, at that same time, we ran out of litter and I replaced it with a different flushable kind that was cedar. Big mistake, big. Huge! This is the point where we first encountered some resistance from Booboo. He began to hold "number 2" and even used rugs multiple times instead of his litter box. And, of course, holding it for longer than normal made it difficult when he actually did go, which made him want to hold it more. (Even during this time, he still always went "number 1" in the litter box for some inexplicable reason.) I started to do some research and discovered a forum for toilet training cats. I learned about doing the "potty dance" and began to spend a lot of time with Booboo in the bathroom trying to convince him to "go" on the toilet. (The term "dance" does not properly convey the way I felt during all this time in the bathroom with Booboo, though perhaps it does indicate the joy that comes after he finally does "go" in the toilet.) We started incorporating treats and lots of praise every time he went "number two" in the litter box.

I think that time of setbacks and potty dancing was mostly due to my changing the litter to a type Booboo did not like, which unfortunately, coincided with the introduction of the larger hole in the litter box and a change in his food, based on a recommendation from his vet. Thankfully, after we switched the litter to his previous flushable litter, Booboo has only "gone" in the litter box. At this same time, we also decided to take some steps back to try to firmly re-establish Booboo's comfort level with the litter box. S temporarily closed the hole by placing another (unaltered) yogurt container of the same size inside the hole in the box. He filled up this new yogurt container with litter to the same level as the rest of the box. This left the structure of the hole in place so that Booboo still had to step over and around it, but removed any danger of falling in the toilet water. Over the next week or two, we gradually reduced the level of litter inside the yogurt container insert until there was no longer any litter it. As the level in the yogurt container insert was getting lower, Booboo (mostly) stopped stepping in the hole and began to navigate it successfully.

After we were sure he was comfortable at this stage, S then cut a hole in the very bottom of the yogurt container insert that was slightly smaller than its diameter. This was to re-introduce the presence of toilet water below the litter box in as non-threatening of a way as possible. After a couple weeks at this stage, S removed the yogurt container insert so that we are now back at where we were at the end of September. (See the above photo.) Booboo now seems comfortable with the size of the hole and balances on the toilet seat very well. For the last few weeks, we have begun encouraging proper positioning on the toilet seat (which means having no feet in the litter box.) On his own, he has used proper positioning at least once, but most of the time, he has his front two paws on the toilet seat and the back two in the litter box. We figure increasing the size of the hole (very slowly over time) will teach him how keep his feet only on the seat as the walkable space of the litter box decreases. We know he is capable of using proper positioning, since he has done it with our help and by himself, so that's good.

Judging by how adaptive Booboo has been during this process, we think he could master the toilet training. It is a very long process (much, much longer than we anticipated). Though we have now learned that it sometimes takes a year or more, the timing doesn't really bother us too much because the end result would be well worth it, as far as the litter goes. But now we are questioning if we want to continue the process because we are wondering if Booboo is simply happier with his normal litter box. We started toilet training right after we moved, so we have too many variables to determine causation with any accuracy, but we agree that Booboo seems less happy now than he seemed before the move. Booboo has been sleeping with us less, and we don't know if it is the move, the still-unsettled apartment, the changes in S's work schedule, the change in his food, the orientation of furniture in the new bedroom, or the toilet training.

So......we are carefully watching Booboo's mood. This last week, he has been sleeping with us more like he used to, so maybe he is getting back to his happy "Montréal self"? Of course, maybe this has to do with the fact that we hung dark curtains in the bedroom last weekend, instead of the white ones we have had up since the move and which let in lots of light at night. Maybe Booboo likes a dark sleeping environment and it is as simple as that? Or maybe Booboo is thankful we went back to his old food which he prefers. It's so hard to know. We will see if his mood seems to improve, and if it doesn't, we will, of course, abandon the toilet training. We just want Booboo to be happy.

The Delayed Ring Story

The person who told me in the summer of 2009 that I should not be planning a wedding without a ring was wrong.

After the initial shock of the guy's statement wore off, I think I just politely ended the conversation and mentally dismissed it as a rude comment. But if I could go back now and re-do my reaction, I think that had I possessed the courage and good sense to claim my ring-less engagement experience as equally valid and valuable as his fiancée's ringed experience, I might have gained that needed boost of confidence to approach our non-traditional engagement more boldly. Looking back, I can see how I let that particular comment reinforce the power of the cultural narrative around The Way Engagement Should Be Done. 

In the few weeks before that unhelpful comment, S and I had taken the final steps from seriously-dating-for-a-year-and-a-half to we-both-know-now-that-we-want-to-spend-our-lives-together. Key to that transition was meeting with our fabulous pre-marital counselor for what I called "pre-engagement counseling." I wanted to work out those necessary pre-marital discussions BEFORE we even got engaged and made the commitment to marry. I am a planner like that, and I wanted to try to minimize the unknowns and try to figure out a "game plan" for dealing with our differences in advance. S is not a planner, but he joined me because it was important to me. (He's great like that.) We both ended up really liking our pre-engagement counselor, and this time was essential in me feeling "ready" to go to the next step of marriage. We also learned some things that have proven helpful in dealing with our personality differences and resolving conflict.

Anyhow, before I was reprimanded for planning our wedding, we had already met with our pre-engagement counselor, had decided we were both ready to get married, had begun planning the wedding, and had told our family and close friends. We had my dress, our shoes, the invitation design and all the necessary supplies to make those DIY invites. S told me that he had ordered my ring. We had set our wedding date for three and a half months later. We had not had any sort of official proposal experience, and I was in the process of trying to separate the concepts of "proposal" and "engagement" in my head.
 

So now as I think about it all, well over a year later, I know that I allowed a reprimanding comment and my own high regard of tradition and ritual to have power over my perception of the actuality of our engagement. I allowed myself to believe that our chronologically atypical engagement was somehow less valid than one that begins within the framework of a traditional proposal experience. S was wise enough to know we were engaged without that, while I kept thinking that although, yes, we were actively in the planning process to get married in the near future, we would really be engaged after some sort of official proposal. I was stuck in the traditional narrative of my (American) culture (of a Southern variety) that I had heard over and over since I was a little girl. The schema of The Proposal As The Beginning Of The Engagement, and the lack of an official proposal question threw me off so much I didn't allow myself to feel enough of the giddy enthusiasm of being engaged. By telling myself I was planning-the-wedding but not actually engaged, I cheated myself out of some of this life experience.

Interestingly, S was also operating outside his cultural narrative by even deciding to getting married, since he comes from Québec where marriage in uncommon. Perhaps S's unfamiliarity with proposals, engagement, weddings, and marriage gave him a clearer ability to see the process of engagement for what it is actually about, and to separate the essential from the cultural clutter. About six weeks into our short planning-a-wedding-ment, when I offered my usual faltering explanation to someone of how-we-were-getting-married-soon-and-he-had-bought-the-ring-but-he-was-in-Canada-at-the-moment-and-so-we-weren't-really-officially-engaged-yet, this wise person in my community said, "Marriage is not a commitment held together by a physical ring, so why should a ring be necessary for engagement?" 

These empowering words replaced the previous negative statement and something "clicked" in my head. During those last two months before the wedding, I finally began to let go of my traditional ideas of engagement and accept our process, different though it was. I wish I had been confident enough to boldly embrace our engagement from its gradual beginning instead of letting the blurred line between "pre-engagement" and "engagement" prevent me from changing my Facebook status to "engaged", or using the word "fiancé" more than a few times. At the time when we were planning the wedding, I had not yet heard any unconventional engagement stories, so I had a hard time processing our own. Thankfully, over the last year, I have noticed some smart women speaking up about their atypical experiences of engagement, and lots of smart women sharing stories of how they choose to carve out their own non-traditional paths through life in various ways.*

And shortly before the wedding I realized that I might, in fact, not see my engagement ring until sometime after we were married. And it was mostly okay because I was just ready to be married and move on to the next stage of our life together. But S surprised me. During the week of our wedding, S took me to a nearby waterfall for a short time of quiet and hot cocoa before all the out of town people began arriving later that day. As we were stopped on the suspended bridge overlooking the powerful rush of water speeding to the edge of the cliff to meet its free-fall fate, I suddenly felt the bridge bouncing. Gripping the rail much more tightly, I began to look around and saw people running on the bridge with balloons and flowers. Only when they stopped right by us did I realize that those people were running towards us and that those people were six of our friends. Each one had red and white balloons and a bouquet of daisies. In complete shock, I turned back to S only to see that he was down on one knee and holding a ring. He said, "Will you marry me on Saturday?" It was funny, sweet, and perfectly us. And then we went to eat poutines.

Because our proposal experience was three days before our wedding, it is linked together with my memories of our wedding. Instead of being the beginning of our engagement process, it felt more like the end of the difficult and exhausting planning-a-wedding stage and the beginning of the infinitely-more-fun state of being married. I'm a person who loves tradition, so I am completely thankful to have had the proposal experience, while the unconventional aspects of our entire process taught me some valuable lessons about commitment, and learning to be more confident even when I find myself on a road that diverges from The Way People Tell You Things Should Be Done.

*Meg and commenters over at A Practical Wedding have since talked about some atypical engagement experiences, and it's exciting and liberating to see how many different approaches there are to the decision to get married....and to other choices we make in life.

Why haven't I heard about this before now?*

So this short** video and this one moved me. A lot. And made me think. A day after I first saw these videos, I am still feeling this way.*** Check them out and then come back and let me know what you think.

PPS. Here is an article on girleffect.The videos are design genius. This article talks about why they are so effective.

*This article is where I heard about it.
**As in, only about 2 minutes.
***I have been thinking about the power of one person, and specifically the power of one woman and the effect one individual can have on the world. I mean, impacting ONE person's life IS do-able. Working towards human right and social change on a international scale is a huge, overwhelming task, often slowed down by systems and large organizations. But helping one person so that one person's life is changed? Yeah, that is do-able. And if lots of people help different individuals? Well....then maybe some lasting positive change would occur in the world.

Happiness.

Fascinating New York Times article on happiness, as how it is related to consumption, simplicity, and experiences.

Traveling minimally.

My carry-ons

As I was planning to pack for our trip to Italy, I decided I wanted to try to be minimalist in my approach to luggage. I did not want to be weighed down by a huge roller suitcase and a carry-on. S is a pro at traveling for 3 weeks with only a carry-on bag, but for me, it was new territory to approach an extended trip with just carry-ons.* I am not minimalist and like to have various options of clothing to match my mood or weather or unexpected situations that might come up. But for this trip, I packed in a normal –sized backpack (my personal bag) and a small duffel bag (carry-on), which was significantly smaller than the normal carry-on-sized roller bags.


The way I was able to do this was due to the information I gained from fabulous website I stumbled upon called onebag.com. From there I learned so much, but here are the tips that I found most helpful for doing a two-week (or longer) trip with carry-ons:

1. Unless you are only going somewhere for a only few days, you will have to wash. I had planned on mostly hand-washing, but S wanted to go to a laundry mat halfway. Unfortunately, the closest laundry mat was a 20 minute bus ride and the hotel charges about $12 for one shirt to be laundered, so we decided to hand wash everything. Including jeans. 

Hotel Laundry Price List

Due to the fact that we were in a nice hotel (thank you, S’s work!), we were able to wash our jeans in the bathtub after they got salty and sticky after renting a boat and boating around the island of Capri. We washed them in the (thankfully very nice and clean) hotel tub with the detachable shower head. It worked surprisingly well. We washed the rest of the clothes in the sink, and then we let things air dry on the towel racks in the tub. Thank you, Woolite.

2. Only bring clothes that go together. Onebag.com suggests choosing a color family and bringing tops and bottoms that mix-and-match well. I went extreme with this idea, and only brought clothes in black, red, and white. (Aside from my one pair of jeans.) And to be honest, almost everything was black. Every top I brought could be mix-and-matched with every bottom. This was important to me because I wanted to maximize the variety of what I was wearing by being able to combine various things creatively. I choose items that would cover the range from a dress-up dinner or semi-elegant event to working out or hiking. Black is great for being versatile. And to be honest, I probably could have brought less tops. Maybe one or two less. Now I know. 


3. If you aren’t sure if you need it, you probably don’t or you can buy one after you get there. And there will probably be something you need that you did not bring, but that is likely, even with a huge suitcase. For me, that item was a cream for sore muscles/joints, because my left knee suddenly started giving me intense pain.  So I bought cream there (which ended up not working well, unfortunately). And I also bought disposable razors, since you can’t take them in a carry-on.


4. Be intentional about your packing methods.  I roll my clothes and have packed this way since backpacking in Europe AGES ago. It really does save room. And you can categorize stuff in gallon or quart size Ziplocs, or mesh packing bags, to help keep things organized,. I have used both methods. Small Nalgene 3-ounce bottles are wonderful for toiletries. Wear your heaviest/bulkiest clothes and shoes while flying to conserve space.


5. As onebag.com says, a fabric sarong-style wrap thing is actually useful. I was skeptical but decided to give it a try, since I have one. I ended up using it multiple ways over the two weeks and am now converted to this idea. I did not use the bandana I brought.


6. I love shoes, yet I managed to only bring two pairs. A pair of black Chacos sandals and a pair of red Converse. This worked for me. True, it would be nice to have some sort of elegant shoes, but I doubt I would have worn them if I had some with me. We walked a TON and elegant shoes and uneven cobblestone are not a good match. So my black sandals attempted to fill the place of “elegant shoes” and they sure were comfortable for “dressy” shoes. And they also worked quite well for hiking up active volcanoes.


7. I also like jewelry and accessories. But I mostly just brought jewelry that was not valuable monetarily. One set of funky earrings, one bracelet, and one necklace. The red sarong-ish scarf mentioned above, and another scarf. It was enough to make me feel like I could “dress up” but nothing that would ask people to mug me or whatever. And I ended up buying a cool bracelet as a souvenir too.

After this successful experiment in which I never felt like I was lacking anything I needed, I plan to try to travel light on future trips. It really was incredibly freeing and I think it all comes down to choosing the right things. By that I mean, things that can work in a variety of ways. Like my skirt with a pair of converse and and a cute t-shirt is great for exploring Naples, whereas if I wear the same skirt with a dressier black top, black sandals, and some accessories, it is a nicer outfit.

I think traveling minimally is in a way, counter-cultural. Well, actually living minimally as well. Now that I have traveled minimally and found it freeing, I am thinking about how generally simplifying is freeing and how a dependence on "stuff" seems like a safe thing (ie. having what you "need", you know,...just in case) but how too much stuff can actually be a burden.**

*Well, as an “adult,” anyways. I did backpack around Europe with a large backpack during college, but I had more stuff then than I had on this trip, and when I was backpacking, I was not prepared for any occasions that might come up where one might want to dress nicely. My challenge this time was to pull it off without looking like I was “backpacking” in Europe.
**Especially while moving.

Science, marriage, and "self-expansion."

Tara Parker-Pope's interesting article, "The Science of a Happy Marriage," on the New York Times blog has made me ponder how the feeling of "self-expansion" influences the commitment and happiness of a relationship. The article says the scientists "theorize that couples who explore new places and try new things will tap into feelings of self-expansion, lifting their level of commitment." They talk about the need to do "challenging and exciting things together" and cite experiments conducted regarding fidelity and happiness in marriage.

I know that most of us would probably agree that trying new things together is good advice, but I also suspect that it is easy for couples to fall into typical routines as the relationship gets more comfortable. Like having a pattern of getting the usual Thai* take-out and watching the same TV series (currently we are enjoying Glee, like tons of other people seem to be), or whatever. And yes, comfortable and reliable can be fun (nothing against Glee!!!) and well....comfortable like a good pair of yoga pants and hot cocoa**, but sometimes you need something completely out of the ordinary to feel, you know...alive and awake. So this article is a good reminder to intentionally mix things up and try new adventures as a couple.

*I still miss our favorite Chicago Thai take-out place like crazy. Snow Spice makes the best crab rangoon I have ever had in my life.
**By the way, anyone tried cayenne pepper in your hot cocoa? Yum!