Fantasy vs. Reality

Each New Year’s Eve my husband and I get together with a group of friends for a civilized dinner, heartfelt toasts, and predictions for the next year.  We also post our “bucket lists,” ten things we want to do before we die.  High on my list is to visit Nepal.  It’s been on my bucket list since we started making them, but I have yet to travel there.  Recently, my husband asked if I still wanted to go to Nepal, since I hadn’t been talking about it much.  We’ve traveled to other parts of the world over the past several years, and soon plan to go on safari in Africa.

I thought about his question.  Why have I not been seriously making plans to travel to my number one travel destination?  Perhaps because subconsciously I believe that it cannot possibly live up to my high expectations.  I envision an exotic, beautiful, spiritual place, AND I know that pollution is terrible in Kathmandu, and that there is extreme poverty there.  I also worry that the food will not be to my liking, and that I might have difficulty with the high altitude.

Similarly, when we were planning to live in Italy for three months three years ago, I was worried that we might not like living there.  I knew that we both loved visiting that most beautiful of countries, but living there would be an entirely different experience. Long story short, we took the leap and lived at a lovely agriturismo near Florence for 2 ½ months of that time. I can honestly say that those months were some of the best of my life.

No place is perfect, but virtually all countries lend themselves to extraordinary experiences via landscape, history and people, when we open ourselves to them. In that way, Nepal is no different from any other place.  Perhaps Nepal will not be all that I fantasize about, but if I allow the reality of the place to wash over me, I know I will be forever changed.

Time to start planning.  My dream awaits. 

The Sun is in The Sky

My husband's cousin died in his sleep last night at the age of 59.  Frank was a one-of-a-kind character, creative and funny.  Like all of us, he had his share of challenges, most recently some serious medical ones. But he had recovered well and had moved to Cuenca, Ecuador in September of last year. He treated us to a blog about his exploits there, and we were lucky enough to experience Cuenca, if only vicariously, through his photos and words.

Whenever we spoke to Frank by phone, whoever made the call would announce themselves by singing the intro to M.C. Hammer's "Can't Touch This." (Don't ask.)  And invariably, one of us would also quote the Little Rascals ("The sun is in the sky.")  Through these in-jokes, as well as our shared memories, particularly of our swimming adventure at Brush Creek Falls in 1990, we formed an unlikely friendship.  After all, I was just a cousin-in-law, and we saw each other rarely, mostly at Crandell Family reunions. Still, Frank would call periodically to give us the low down on what he was up to and to ask about our family's doings. I always enjoyed hearing from him; his life was never dull, or if it was, he embellished.  I think his craziness complemented my craziness; we just "got"each other.

Anyway, Frank's sudden, early passing confirms for me just how much each of us, in our inimitable uniqueness, touches those with whom we come in contact. We can only guess at the impact we have on others.

Frank, your light will always shine in my memory... The sun is in the sky.

Wonder-ful

Remember when, as teenagers, we vowed that we would NEVER be like our parents? If you're anything like me, the older you get, the more you realize that the apple rarely falls too far from the tree.  Our parents leave an indelible mark and our behaviors often begin to echo theirs.

Of course, as an adult, I appreciate many of the gifts my parents have bequeathed to me --- my dad's writing ability and intensity, my mother's loony sense of humor and deep love of family. But the recognition and appreciation of these gifts came slowly. 

I had to chuckle when I realized, several years ago, that I had adopted one of my mother's favorite pastimes, birdwatching. During my (much) younger days, I used to inwardly roll my eyes when my mother would point out various birds at her feeders --- nuthatches, downy woodpeckers, tufted titmice.  Birds??!!!??  Who had time to watch birds?  And who wanted to?  How boring!  But now I love to watch the variety of small birds swoop down to the feeder, and I delight in the few months each year when the American goldfinches and the hummingbirds take up residence.

What changed?  For me, I think it was a gradual understanding of the interconnectedness of all life, the fact that we are not separate from each other after all.  As I aged, my focus expanded, and I began to appreciate all the natural wonders around me, and to feel profound gratitude for the miracle of all life.  Every living thing has an important part to play in this organism we call the Universe; it's pretty magical, and oh so beautiful, when you think about it. 

I'm not sure if my mother considered all this when she happily announced a particular bird's arrival.  But I'm pretty sure that the joy she expressed could have been translated as, "Isn't the world just AMAZING, Christine?"  Yes, it is, Mommy.  Yes, it is.

Blessings of Friendship

Friendship.  That word evokes many emotions and memories, from childhood friendships that were open and easy, to teenage friendships that were fraught with drama, to adult friendships that seemed more like acquaintances in their shallowness.  Looking back, I can see that this progression was normal, but definitely not satisfying.  In my twenties and thirties, despite having a wonderful family, I mourned the lack of a female confidante, someone who would accept me totally and with whom I could share my silliness and innermost thoughts with ease.

My prayers were answered when my family and I moved to Columbia in 1989 and became members of a local congregation.  My husband and I discovered several couples there with whom we connected, and we began socializing regularly with them.  Crazy parties, potlucks, and shared vacations ensued, and to my surprise, the close friendships that I had so yearned for became reality.  We women would walk around the lake, talking about our husbands and children, laughing and crying, commiserating and celebrating with each other.  When, as a result of work and other commitments, we found that we were not seeing each other as regularly, we instituted a weekly tea, which continues to this day.  The more time we spent together, the closer we became. For more than 20 years, we have maintained our friendship, celebrating the marriages of our children and the births of grandchildren.  We have  supported each other through the loss of parents and the sudden deaths of close friends.  We have woven our lives together with durable thread.

The close friendships I have with these wonderful, unique women have sustained me, encouraged me, and freed me. Thank you, dear friends, for enriching my life in so many ways.

Welcome!

Welcome to A Whole Heart Life, musings on what a fulfilling life looks like to me.  For the most part, this blog will focus on family, friends, life purpose, food and travel.  But at times, you may find me expressing my thoughts on art, music, spirituality and culture, as well.

Like many people, I lived much of my life on automatic pilot.  I was driven by my unconscious thoughts and negative voices that told me that much of what happened to me was my fault, that I was never good enough, and that I had much to fear.  I tried to do everything right, and to the world at large, I'm sure it appeared that I had a perfect life.  And, for the most part, I did. I had a good marriage, two children whose shenanigans were minor, and a lovely home.  But still, unhappiness dogged me. 

Why? For many years, an answer eluded me. But over time, I discovered what I needed to embrace and what I needed to let go of, in order to live a whole heart life, one that fills me with joy and peace on a regular basis.  I needed a new perspective, and I was able to develop one through  relationships, calculated risk taking, classroom learning, and meditative practices.  Essentially, I knew the kind of life I wanted, and was fortunate enough to find guides for the journey.

So this will be a blog about happiness --- stories of joyful events, everyday miracles, and all the little things that make life worthwhile.  I invite you to join me on the adventure.