It’s a heavy, sideways rain with the occasional clap of thunder. The room is dark save the lamp overhead and I can’t help feeling that the metaphor from Tai Chi has continued with me home.
Leave the things of the old year behind that no longer serve us, washing them away as we prepare to enter a new year, welcoming light and love.
Monday, December 30, 2019
Saturday, December 28, 2019
Just Keep Swimming
I'm closing out the year with Tribe of Memoirs: Short Life Advice from the Best in the World. Ferriss compiled a list of 11 questions and this book is a compilation of over 100 different responses from a variety of his contacts in a wide range of professions. It's been wonderful to read a chapter or three in the quiet moments of these last days of 2019 and I already have a host of highlights: new words, quotes, new books for my list, and reminders of things I already knew to be heart-truths.
Ferriss is known for his book 4-Hour Workweek and several other "4-Hour" category books. Maybe one of these will make my reading list one day, but I came to Ferris through a Ted Talk and after a few minutes of watching, felt a connection with this (at the time) 31 year old person who had just learned to swim while also having picked up a new language and the tango.*
I was a little older than Mr. Ferriss when I took the plunge (literally) into swimming. I can vividly remember the first lessons: 1) standing in the pool while trying to put my face in the water 2) floating for one hour and then 3) the little by little improvements that came before 4) losing my swimsuit top in the pool and then 5) starting to overcome the fear again.
I have an abundance of gratitude for the patience of my first teacher. A NASA engineer, he broke swimming into science and engineering, a language that was as familiar and comforting to me. We talked about propulsion and Archimedes' screw. We also talked about fear and how slowing down was the best way for me to control it.
So as I make my lists for 2020 with items out of my current comfort zone, I am thinking about "sisu":
*Cue person who is still pretty recent to life in Argentina.
Ferriss is known for his book 4-Hour Workweek and several other "4-Hour" category books. Maybe one of these will make my reading list one day, but I came to Ferris through a Ted Talk and after a few minutes of watching, felt a connection with this (at the time) 31 year old person who had just learned to swim while also having picked up a new language and the tango.*
I was a little older than Mr. Ferriss when I took the plunge (literally) into swimming. I can vividly remember the first lessons: 1) standing in the pool while trying to put my face in the water 2) floating for one hour and then 3) the little by little improvements that came before 4) losing my swimsuit top in the pool and then 5) starting to overcome the fear again.
I have an abundance of gratitude for the patience of my first teacher. A NASA engineer, he broke swimming into science and engineering, a language that was as familiar and comforting to me. We talked about propulsion and Archimedes' screw. We also talked about fear and how slowing down was the best way for me to control it.
So as I make my lists for 2020 with items out of my current comfort zone, I am thinking about "sisu":
The best way I can describe the feeling is a Finnish word, "sisu"- the mental strength to continue to try even after you feel you've reached the limits of your abilities. I don't think failure is sometimes part of the process- it always is. When you feel you can't go on, know that you're just getting started. - Kyle Maynard, Tribe of Mentors, (p. 15)
*Cue person who is still pretty recent to life in Argentina.
Saturday, December 21, 2019
Esperando con esperanza
Twas a few nights before Christmas
y por toda la casa,
only one creature was stirring,
haciendo una masa.
Las botas son colgadas,
the music was festive,
la noche más larga del año,
The sunset suggestive
Of good things to come
y nuevas aventuras en frente
Of love, of travel, of baking
y paz por un mundo de gente.
y por toda la casa,
only one creature was stirring,
haciendo una masa.
Las botas son colgadas,
the music was festive,
la noche más larga del año,
The sunset suggestive
Of good things to come
y nuevas aventuras en frente
Of love, of travel, of baking
y paz por un mundo de gente.
Tuesday, December 10, 2019
Southern Hemisphere
After three years, the air conditioner is no longer a juxtaposition to the Christmas tree.
Fresh fruit pies are now a tradition.
So are ice cream and Christmas stockings.
Two weeks to Christmas and I'm watching my balcony garden grow.
Fresh fruit pies are now a tradition.
So are ice cream and Christmas stockings.
Two weeks to Christmas and I'm watching my balcony garden grow.
Tuesday, December 3, 2019
Star Struck
Where the Forest Meets the Stars by Glendy Vander was a surprisingly fun read. An Amazon First Reads from February, it was a book I did not want to put down once I had started it. It also was a book that made me want to read the last chapter to see if I would like the ending. (I am glad I didn't do that, though I did read the last chapter a second time after finishing the book.)
Ursa and Jo are positioned to be a good team from the onset. The other characters make their entrances in their quirky, awkward ways, a lens into their personalities. There are parts of each that are likable and not, the way we humans are. Forgiveness, friendship, and love were big themes for me from the book. You will want to know more about Ursa. You will like the Egg Man. And who knows? You might just be more compassionate to someone who is rough around the edges.
Ursa and Jo are positioned to be a good team from the onset. The other characters make their entrances in their quirky, awkward ways, a lens into their personalities. There are parts of each that are likable and not, the way we humans are. Forgiveness, friendship, and love were big themes for me from the book. You will want to know more about Ursa. You will like the Egg Man. And who knows? You might just be more compassionate to someone who is rough around the edges.
Thursday, November 28, 2019
A Rose is a Rose
 |
| Yellow Rose of TN October 2019 |
Today especially, my heart has gratitude for those that continue to walk with me and for those who joined me for only a few seasons. The most lovely gardens are a mix of annuals and perennials.
Monday, November 25, 2019
Field of Dreams
When I awoke this morning, I had a general idea for my day. After a trip to the gym and cooking lunch, I settled onto the sofa to read for a bit, for an hour, I had planned.
I had started In Pieces by Sally Field on the plane (per my usual) a couple weeks ago, but had stopped reading it after reaching the impact that Jocko had on her story. The book was closed; I wasn’t ready to continue.
Eight hours have passed since re-starting, and save a few minutes for a shower and a trip for water, I have only rearranged myself on the sofa, book in hand, not leaving.
The rainy day faded and as I walked the two blocks for water, I was only vaguely aware of the woman in the checkout line pressing into my back with a stick of butter. My attention was still with Sally Fields.
In writing this now, I cannot actually remember what I had wanted to accomplish today, just that my goals were surpassed by the need to continue walking in her words for a while longer, to see where I would find myself, and to see what might open in me while accompanying her.
I have admired Fields’ ability to act and her strength in character without thinking about the fortitude created in successful women by enduring childhoods and for many of us, the bonds with our mothers. The story (minus the successful movie-star, Hollywood, Malibu homes part) is likely one that a friend might have and if you are actively listening, she might allude to just a piece of it over a glass of wine, late at night, or subtly give a knowing nod while hearing another’s story.
A woman fighting to survive (something), being or becoming someone’s (something), all the while trying to recover that (something) within that gets dim, shelved, or forgotten. There are many things that compelled me about her story and her writing, but perhaps most impactful was the courage she had to have that conversation with her mother.
Through “In Pieces” we learn about the preparation Fields takes to become her characters and through her writing, she pulled me onto the sofa in the back, watching, waiting, holding my breath. I did not want to be anywhere else.
Finishing the day in gratitude.
I had started In Pieces by Sally Field on the plane (per my usual) a couple weeks ago, but had stopped reading it after reaching the impact that Jocko had on her story. The book was closed; I wasn’t ready to continue.
Eight hours have passed since re-starting, and save a few minutes for a shower and a trip for water, I have only rearranged myself on the sofa, book in hand, not leaving.
The rainy day faded and as I walked the two blocks for water, I was only vaguely aware of the woman in the checkout line pressing into my back with a stick of butter. My attention was still with Sally Fields.
In writing this now, I cannot actually remember what I had wanted to accomplish today, just that my goals were surpassed by the need to continue walking in her words for a while longer, to see where I would find myself, and to see what might open in me while accompanying her.
I have admired Fields’ ability to act and her strength in character without thinking about the fortitude created in successful women by enduring childhoods and for many of us, the bonds with our mothers. The story (minus the successful movie-star, Hollywood, Malibu homes part) is likely one that a friend might have and if you are actively listening, she might allude to just a piece of it over a glass of wine, late at night, or subtly give a knowing nod while hearing another’s story.
A woman fighting to survive (something), being or becoming someone’s (something), all the while trying to recover that (something) within that gets dim, shelved, or forgotten. There are many things that compelled me about her story and her writing, but perhaps most impactful was the courage she had to have that conversation with her mother.
Through “In Pieces” we learn about the preparation Fields takes to become her characters and through her writing, she pulled me onto the sofa in the back, watching, waiting, holding my breath. I did not want to be anywhere else.
Finishing the day in gratitude.
Saturday, November 23, 2019
High Points - BA
Sierra de la Ventana is a leisurely seven(ish) hour drive from CABA, mostly through the countryside. You will see farmland, windmills, cattle, sheep, hay, and the occasional very over-sized truck (which in my case was carrying industrial windmill shafts). Your reward, upon arrival, are the highest two peaks in the Buenos Aires province: Cerro Tres Picos and Cerro Ventana.
If you are so inclined, they are both walkable. Tres Picos is located on private property, the Fundación Funke, and you will need to arrive early to request permission to walk, (pay), get organized, and parked at the beginning of the trail. The trail is about 20km and should take about 8 hours. If you find yourself trailing the recommended schedule, you might have to turn back before reaching the peak. The climb to 1239 meters is considered low to moderate difficulty but there are several rocky stretches with a steep 200 meter hand climb to reach the summit. It's a great walk.
Summiting Cerro Ventana will land you at 1136 meters and is a guided trek. Round trip, the trail is about 6 hours to walk and measurably shorter than Tres Picos but with higher degree of difficulty. (My walking sticks were definitely handy for legs that were a bit tired from Tres Picos.) Cerro Ventana is located in Parque Provincial Ernesto Tornquist and was declared a natural monument in 1959. There are several other trails available as well. The views are tremendous on the climb and descent and you will likely share the path with a few wild horses near 1000 meters.
My trip was in September, just before high spring and summer peak. It was a great place to connect with nature and take a few walks.
If you are so inclined, they are both walkable. Tres Picos is located on private property, the Fundación Funke, and you will need to arrive early to request permission to walk, (pay), get organized, and parked at the beginning of the trail. The trail is about 20km and should take about 8 hours. If you find yourself trailing the recommended schedule, you might have to turn back before reaching the peak. The climb to 1239 meters is considered low to moderate difficulty but there are several rocky stretches with a steep 200 meter hand climb to reach the summit. It's a great walk.
Summiting Cerro Ventana will land you at 1136 meters and is a guided trek. Round trip, the trail is about 6 hours to walk and measurably shorter than Tres Picos but with higher degree of difficulty. (My walking sticks were definitely handy for legs that were a bit tired from Tres Picos.) Cerro Ventana is located in Parque Provincial Ernesto Tornquist and was declared a natural monument in 1959. There are several other trails available as well. The views are tremendous on the climb and descent and you will likely share the path with a few wild horses near 1000 meters.
My trip was in September, just before high spring and summer peak. It was a great place to connect with nature and take a few walks.
Tuesday, November 19, 2019
Las Cartas
Paris Letters by Janice MacLeod was added to my booklist while strolling around Parnassus Books. I had already reached my budgeted limit for purchases that day so this one waited around for a few years until it surfaced again. Had I read it when originally published, I think I would have enjoyed it, but having read it after leaving my job for an adventure from France to Spain to Argentina, I fell in kindred spirit with the book.
Disclosure: I'm a letter lover, both writer and reader. I wanted to like the book before I ever started.
And I did.
As I read through her journey, I thought about my Accomplice (Chapter 6) who told me that my Plan B was actually a better Plan A. I was reminded of the customs officer in Paris (Chapter 13) who told me I was being brave when I revealed a little too much. I felt grateful for the friends who received my notes and texts and were enthusiastic in their responses for my adventure.
I read Paris Letters in one sitting over two flights and one airport. It made me smile, it reminded me how love arrives and sometimes leaves in strange ways, and that we all can understand one another if we put the effort into trying.
Disclosure: I'm a letter lover, both writer and reader. I wanted to like the book before I ever started.
And I did.
As I read through her journey, I thought about my Accomplice (Chapter 6) who told me that my Plan B was actually a better Plan A. I was reminded of the customs officer in Paris (Chapter 13) who told me I was being brave when I revealed a little too much. I felt grateful for the friends who received my notes and texts and were enthusiastic in their responses for my adventure.
I read Paris Letters in one sitting over two flights and one airport. It made me smile, it reminded me how love arrives and sometimes leaves in strange ways, and that we all can understand one another if we put the effort into trying.
Friday, September 13, 2019
Salta
 |
| Salta desde Virgen del Cerro September 2019 |
If you only have thirty hours in Salta, I recommend empanadas and a peña at La Casona del Molina, a climb to Cerro San Bernardo and a hike over to Virgen Del Cerro descending just before the sun gets too low. For me, it was nearly a 17 km trek in total, but I'd do it again for the views, the peacefulness, and to see the birds* with a closer eye view.
*There are a total of 657 species of birds in the province!
Thursday, August 22, 2019
Raise Your Hand if You're Sure
La axila.
It is not the area under your tongue (if a nurse gives you a thermometer to take your temperature).
It is your armpit.
You’re welcome.
It is not the area under your tongue (if a nurse gives you a thermometer to take your temperature).
It is your armpit.
You’re welcome.
(If you should have a lapse in vocabulary, laughter is also really good medicine.)
Friday, August 9, 2019
Ponder and Wander
 |
| El Pensador Buenos Aires, July 2019 |
We were early for the dinner reservation so we went for a walk. It was a surprise to wander past a familiar statue. When moving in for a closer view, my first thought was, well, skeptical. "It's in France!" I said. And yes, it is. And it isn't.
Purchased in 1907 by Eduardo Schiaffino, first director of the Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes, this statue is one of three that were cast in the original mold and signed by Rodin. There are several others, at least eight, though my research is conflicting regarding the final tally. It is in the Plaza del Congreso if you would like to have a look or take a little time to think.
Tuesday, July 30, 2019
Come on Baby Drive South
I maintain a [redacted]* list of my top five locations to run. Nearly all are beside a body of water; they include two continents and four states. I also have a running list** of my favorite running partners. They have made me laugh, made me faster, stopped to swing, and were not short of cheeky responses when I was ready to start walking. And finally, I remember the time of day and the season.
In a handful of moments, a running partner, a beautiful location, and mother nature converge to create a near-perfect run. This week, that run was in Chascomús, adding a third continent to my list. We set off just before sunset and after a really good cafe con leche. Because it was winter and mid-week, it was not crowded. There were other runners and walkers, couples in love cuddled on benches, and a few fishers lingering on the pier. The globe lights were here and there helping one to (mainly) avoid the mud, yet not competing with the fading light and reflections in the water.
It was peaceful and pretty and all the other good adjectives and the only appropriate response when it was all over was a great big sigh and a prayer of gratitude for the gift of a beautiful run.
In a handful of moments, a running partner, a beautiful location, and mother nature converge to create a near-perfect run. This week, that run was in Chascomús, adding a third continent to my list. We set off just before sunset and after a really good cafe con leche. Because it was winter and mid-week, it was not crowded. There were other runners and walkers, couples in love cuddled on benches, and a few fishers lingering on the pier. The globe lights were here and there helping one to (mainly) avoid the mud, yet not competing with the fading light and reflections in the water.
It was peaceful and pretty and all the other good adjectives and the only appropriate response when it was all over was a great big sigh and a prayer of gratitude for the gift of a beautiful run.
* Sparing you the pun
** Not this time
Thursday, July 25, 2019
Book Listings
I am reading my way through Katherine Graham’s Personal History. At 642 pages, it wasn’t the lightest book for a carry-on but it was well worth the second-hand price of $3.00. (I wonder if the previous owner whose gold address sticker remains inside would have guessed the book would travel over 6,000 miles.) Ms. Graham’s story, and that of her parents, is fascinating and the cast of characters is incredible. Though I cannot always relate to the set of troubles that accompanies a wealthy lifestyle (removing advertisements in the jet purchased from the showroom and the need to update the pool upon moving in a new house), the challenges that she faces in her roles as daughter, wife, and eventually President of The Washington Post are something in which any woman can empathize. Her strength of character and her ability to admit short-comings are admirable, and I look forward to these next chapters ahead in finishing the book.
Additionally, the transformation of The Washington Post is extremely interesting to follow, especially given the heightened importance of factual and dedicated reporting in these last several years. Through reading her story, I’ve come to place an even greater value in my subscription.
This year has been the year of reading memoirs and biographies. It started accidentally and then with more purpose. Of note, Wholly Unraveled by Keele Burgin and Feast: True Love in and out of the Kitchen by Hannah Howard should be added to your lists.
If you have an interest in history and especially politics, I would highly recommend Upstairs at the White House: My Life with the First Ladies by J.B. West and Mary Lynn Kotz. Afterwards, watch Jackie if you haven’t yet seen it. The Dark Heart: A True Story of Greed, Murder, and an Unlikely Investigator by Joakim Palmkvist is also a fine addition to your booklist particularly if you’ve spent any time in Sweden.
Additionally, the transformation of The Washington Post is extremely interesting to follow, especially given the heightened importance of factual and dedicated reporting in these last several years. Through reading her story, I’ve come to place an even greater value in my subscription.
This year has been the year of reading memoirs and biographies. It started accidentally and then with more purpose. Of note, Wholly Unraveled by Keele Burgin and Feast: True Love in and out of the Kitchen by Hannah Howard should be added to your lists.
If you have an interest in history and especially politics, I would highly recommend Upstairs at the White House: My Life with the First Ladies by J.B. West and Mary Lynn Kotz. Afterwards, watch Jackie if you haven’t yet seen it. The Dark Heart: A True Story of Greed, Murder, and an Unlikely Investigator by Joakim Palmkvist is also a fine addition to your booklist particularly if you’ve spent any time in Sweden.
Monday, July 22, 2019
el agradecimiento
Me ayudás
en cualquier momento
No vacilás
en decir lo siento.
Me amás
sin condición.
Me haces reir
cada discusión.
No tengo palabras suficientes
A decir gracias completamente.
en cualquier momento
No vacilás
en decir lo siento.
Me amás
sin condición.
Me haces reir
cada discusión.
No tengo palabras suficientes
A decir gracias completamente.
Saturday, July 20, 2019
Cloud Hands
It was three years ago yesterday that I first arrived to Buenos Aires. The ticket was purchased with five days notice. That small disrespect to my usual planning habits to a decision with more spontaneity has continued, and now, as I ponder the events that have transpired in 1,096.29 days, I am in wonder.
I celebrated this milestone by attending my first Tai Chi class in Spanish this morning. Though I tried to stay with clear mind, memories floated in (and through) from my Nashville classes of QiGong in 2010, and my very first class of Tai Chi in Beijing in 2007…time passing in threes or multiples thereof.
En algunos momentos está dura a realizar que cambios pueden resultar en cosas increíbles. Algunas recuerdos tratar a mantenernos en nuestros lugares pero yo creo si haces las cosas con amor, todo va a estar bien y puede mover entre los nubes.
I celebrated this milestone by attending my first Tai Chi class in Spanish this morning. Though I tried to stay with clear mind, memories floated in (and through) from my Nashville classes of QiGong in 2010, and my very first class of Tai Chi in Beijing in 2007…time passing in threes or multiples thereof.
En algunos momentos está dura a realizar que cambios pueden resultar en cosas increíbles. Algunas recuerdos tratar a mantenernos en nuestros lugares pero yo creo si haces las cosas con amor, todo va a estar bien y puede mover entre los nubes.
Friday, February 1, 2019
Que Haces?
 |
| THE cookbook of Argentina January 2019 |
Yesterday, someone asked me what I did.
I have the answer of my work title but it does not translate well. The short answer is my original curriculum of study, and this seems to satisfy most pleasantries (though it has no direct bearing on the present).
It’s a question that’s lingered as I worked on another project today.
When I arrived, “what I did” was try not to be overwhelmed. A cultural immersion of sounds, foods, and pace meets a girl that over-estimated her abilities with language. (It was a little akin to someone who had studied British English and had been dropped in the heart of Appalachia.) “Como?” became my new “do what?”
Then "what I did” was discover ways to enjoy solitude again. Without knowledge of how to move and really how to communicate efficiently, I was a walking safety risk. I had to stay inside much more than I was accustomed to doing, which meant I had to find ways to survive cabin fever and limited independence. I had to grow in trusting and relying on others.
Then, as the comfort and abilities grew, the “what did I do” changed again. I tried not to get electrocuted with 220V power. I tried not to mix cleaning chemicals in a way that would cause a “kill vapor”. I tried to avoid ladders in the street because there seems to be no OSHA-esque guidelines of how to ensure that nothing (and no one) will fall. I studied. I started to cook, but cut carefully because I didn’t know how to manage a doctor’s visit. When the coffee maker died, I became a student of the pour-over. I blushed whenever someone asked me “where are you from?”. I apologized for the President.
Because I had more time, I had more pleasure in small things. Lunch is a minimum of 40 minutes prep. Dinner usually takes an hour. I’ve slid into the typical Argentinean schedule of eating. I read a lot of recipes and think about Julia Child as I take cooking classes.
I write more and play the piano frequently. I read news in Spanish quickly but books and magazines slowly and always with a dictionary. I receive random books in English and I devour them, heart happy that this does not require effort.
My first spin class two years ago is now a funny anecdote. Yoga classes gave me basic anatomy but now I’ve branched out with vocabulary for other muscles and joints.
I’ve had a trip to the emergency room and doctors' visits so I have a baseline comfort with a different medical system. I still cut vegetables cautiously and I miss HIPPA.
People ask me where I’m from anymore less frequently but I do get the lingering look as they try to discern what exactly is different about me other than my accent.
I have a routine that’s flexible yet I strive to be disciplined.
“What do I do?”
It’s a question that’s lingered as I worked on another project today.
When I arrived, “what I did” was try not to be overwhelmed. A cultural immersion of sounds, foods, and pace meets a girl that over-estimated her abilities with language. (It was a little akin to someone who had studied British English and had been dropped in the heart of Appalachia.) “Como?” became my new “do what?”
Then "what I did” was discover ways to enjoy solitude again. Without knowledge of how to move and really how to communicate efficiently, I was a walking safety risk. I had to stay inside much more than I was accustomed to doing, which meant I had to find ways to survive cabin fever and limited independence. I had to grow in trusting and relying on others.
Then, as the comfort and abilities grew, the “what did I do” changed again. I tried not to get electrocuted with 220V power. I tried not to mix cleaning chemicals in a way that would cause a “kill vapor”. I tried to avoid ladders in the street because there seems to be no OSHA-esque guidelines of how to ensure that nothing (and no one) will fall. I studied. I started to cook, but cut carefully because I didn’t know how to manage a doctor’s visit. When the coffee maker died, I became a student of the pour-over. I blushed whenever someone asked me “where are you from?”. I apologized for the President.
Because I had more time, I had more pleasure in small things. Lunch is a minimum of 40 minutes prep. Dinner usually takes an hour. I’ve slid into the typical Argentinean schedule of eating. I read a lot of recipes and think about Julia Child as I take cooking classes.
I write more and play the piano frequently. I read news in Spanish quickly but books and magazines slowly and always with a dictionary. I receive random books in English and I devour them, heart happy that this does not require effort.
My first spin class two years ago is now a funny anecdote. Yoga classes gave me basic anatomy but now I’ve branched out with vocabulary for other muscles and joints.
I’ve had a trip to the emergency room and doctors' visits so I have a baseline comfort with a different medical system. I still cut vegetables cautiously and I miss HIPPA.
People ask me where I’m from anymore less frequently but I do get the lingering look as they try to discern what exactly is different about me other than my accent.
I have a routine that’s flexible yet I strive to be disciplined.
“What do I do?”
I explore. I try and fail, and then try again. I smile a lot.
And then somedays I just try not to shoot myself in the face with a bidet. And that’s enough.
And then somedays I just try not to shoot myself in the face with a bidet. And that’s enough.
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