continuing on the theme of culture, it brings me to the next subject as I am living in Switzerland... for now.
when in Denmark, I did not realise how much of the culture consumed me until I moved here. I feel more Danish than anything else. I admit that part of it could be that it is something that I am clinging to, as Denmark was my last home. There are many things about me that have remained intactfully American, yet there are many more that are truly Danish. I became one of them while there, and it took my moving to CH, along with being with other Americans in the US, to realise that indeed I am more Danish than I thought. And if you told me this while I was in DK I would have screamed! Yet I enjoy it now, am soooo thankful for having been there (even though it was the most difficult 3 years of my life) and am happy to be, to a degree, a Dane.
even to the point that I put the Danish flag on my birthday cake and I have Danish flags all over my desk.
So this past weekend I spent it with the local expats (as that is the best way to get to know people, can you believe that the Suisse are more closed than the Danes!!!), I was doing Suisse-ish things on Friday and Saturday. I went to the Cathedral (first time, thank you Marco... yes... I know) and to the Desalpes-- when the cows come home from the mountaintops for the winter.
The cows are decorated with flowers and hats. It is a sight to see for sure! And I did all things Suisse... raclette for the first time, fondue for the millionth. And while I was there, I wondered what it took to be a Suissie.... then it hit me what it was
...on being suisse: getting shat on by a cow!
Yes!
I have been baptised!!!
I am officially Suisse!
I even went shopping at Coop afterwards with my new badge of honor.
As I was in St. Cerge, which is above Nyon about 1100 meters, I was taking many pics of the cows coming down the mountain. In drag. With their owners (who were in their own type of drag... the local traditonal dress).
And I love cows. They are adorable and so beautifully simplistic.
I had my new camera with me (thanks Xavi, I have been putting it to many use!) and decided to align myself closely with the oncoming corral to get a good shot. As I did this, close to being stampeded, a cow decided to give me a good warning...
It shat all over me!!!
And tonight, as I engaged in all things Suisse as tonight is my only laundry slot for the week, I washed my clothes to no avail. They are stained permanently.
They may have saved my from my French-ness. My plan for Saturday, originally, was to go to Hermes afterwards to rescue a bracelet. As I like to match my scarves with a bracelet, I do have one scarf that remains partnerless. As I passed the Hermes window Friday night, I spotted the most AMAZING pink (I am a girl!!!) and silver bracelet in the window. So my plan was to get it after the Desalpes on Saturday.
Then I learned why the Suisse are so good at banking. Getting shat on by a cow keeps you from spending money!!!
To top it off, I got extra Suisse tonight as I came home to someone else doing laundry during my slot, I did as another Suisse would do-- I wrote a note in French reminding them to not take my slot.
Now if I can get the fondue odor out...
question-- how do you root your uprooted-ness?
29 September 2008
23 September 2008
the art of being french...
I am back from Marbella!
The trip was fantastic, I met some really amazing people and had a restful, albeit caipirinha infused journey!
The resort was ok, I like the area well, and it drew me to a few more decisions in life which I will expand upon later... unless if you are too curious!
So, if you have been linking up to Xavi's blog, you may have seen a few quotes from a hilarious book called "A Year in the Merde". He loaned me the book, and I am so grateful as it was hysterical!! I had it in tow in Marbella and wrapped it up while there. I had it with me while at dinner one eve, at a very high end restaurant (EURO 100 for one person, yikes!) and I was laughing my ass off. I really connected with the part where Paul (main character) went back to the UK and realised that he finessed the
...art of being french: in how some things (fill in blank here, yet for the book, use "British") all of sudden became disdainful, repulsive and sometimes a true burden to endure
due to his experience in Paris. It is funny how a country shapes us, we never really know how much we have absorbed the local culture and its nuances until we go back to what may be considered "home".
I have the same experiences as well, I could connect with Paul, as after living in Denmark for 3 years, going to the US was a shock itself, to the point where I am not comfortable there. Three days is enough, I feel like I am suffocating a slow death, surrounded by poor quality food, too much noise, too much light, too much movement, stress... you name it. Everything American. Even when I was in the US last fall for 3 weeks (the first time I had been in a homogenous American setting in 4 years for such a length), the group kept me on the outside as they felt I was not American. They even said I dress like a European, even though I still buy my clothes in the US! (much cheaper there)
And I did not realise how Danish I have become and feel until I moved here to Switzerland. To the point that several colleagues though I was Danish for quite sometime until the cat was let out of the bag... damn blue passport!
Jeg er danskere, for helvede! :)
Why are you looking at me in the eyes, we are not supposed to do that unless we are toasting each other! What do you mean you put some jelly based icky pooh on these little sandwiches, have you not heard of the concept of smoerebroed? Why are you confirming an appointment, we already made the verbal agreement several months ago and it still stands! Why on earth are you even striking up a conversation with me on the bus, we do not know each other! Why are we not asking the group, what do you mean consensus is not important? And why do you press the "close doors" button as soon as you enter the elevator?
Yet I am diverging from my original thought and what I want to express, for the book triggered my trip down memory lane.
My ethnicity (different from my nationality) is equally 25% Swedish (can't you tell from my 149.9cm stature?), 25% Ukranian (fiery spirit), 25% Italian (more fiery spirit, great cook, olive skin, and for some reason abhor pasta).... and....
25% French.
The book triggered in me... what makes me French?
Well, for starters, I am for the common everyday person, to the point that from an organisational standpoint I prefer to work things from the bottom up. Plus I love any opportunity to serve on the side of the underdog, the little person. I will go to all lengths! Even fly to the US to serve in politcal campaigns, volunteer to build homes, hold art auctions for the poor, food collections for food pantrys... you name it. If there is a struggle, I am in the middle of it fighting for the have nots. I feel most free, liberated and connected when I do these things.
Yet growing up I do not remember any of the French side.... we did the Italian Christmas, Ukranian Easter (which I like to do to this day), studied the Swedish genes... yet the French?
I wonder if the French side just said "phooey to celebrating the other, we will not join in this nonsense" and allowed its presence to be known by its absence.
Did it manifest in the fact that, while in undergrad, while everyone was drinking wine coolers and beer, I was the only one sipping red wine?
Where are all my French connections?
I did study French Intellectualism in the 19th Century for one year while in undergrad. My prof, Stephen Vincent, was tres sans culottes in his essence. Long hair, always late, and preferred to moving our evening classes to the local brewery for study and local fare. Too bad at the time I was not 21, for I did envy those drinking the beer!
I met my first very-true-blue-white-and-red Frenchman in undergrad. His name is Alain, and at the time he was at least in his late 40's. He came to Raleigh and opened a wine store, our very first dedicated one at that in the early 90's. He was the first to introduce me to the art of wine tasting, as he pridefully put his Beaujolais upbringing in everything he did. Including his comments, which one eve as I was with my then boyfriend (things must have looked strained), he says to the then beau "if you do not tend to your garden, someone else will". He opened my eyes to the wines from his region, and every year would fly in the Nouveau in a private jet directly from Beaujolais to a invitation only dinner. Traditional french food, music and all!
I felt tres cool then, at the tender age of 22.
And from there, I have no idea where it went. Yet it has landed me here in the French part of Switzerland now.
Oops, it did strike me again when the US went through their ridiculous anti-French stage. My friends and I went out of our way to buy Evian, croissants and anything-and-everything French. And to add to the annoyance, whenever someone made a reference to the Statue of Liberty, I would candidly with sublime innocence ask "gee, wonder who gave us that gift in 1888"?
And when I first moved to Denmark, I was told that my Danish had a French accent (have no idea where that came from!).... and interestingly my French has a Danish accent (no surprise).
Ok, I do have a penchant for Hermes scarfs and bracelets, and am diehard Aubade devotee.
And I have added Viktor & Rolf to my consumption.
Yet the interesting thing, as I was flying to Marbella, reading the book and laughing the whole way (prob to the dismay of my neighbours), I am wondering if I need to explore more my French roots to sustain Suisse culture.
Then again, this is Suisse!! :)
So as I headed off the plane to grab a taxi, I was really putting my energies into this... then the cab driver asks me which part of South America I am from.... ...arg, my Cuban- accented Spanish blew my cover!!!
C'est la vie!
question: how do you (re) connect with your roots?
The trip was fantastic, I met some really amazing people and had a restful, albeit caipirinha infused journey!
The resort was ok, I like the area well, and it drew me to a few more decisions in life which I will expand upon later... unless if you are too curious!
So, if you have been linking up to Xavi's blog, you may have seen a few quotes from a hilarious book called "A Year in the Merde". He loaned me the book, and I am so grateful as it was hysterical!! I had it in tow in Marbella and wrapped it up while there. I had it with me while at dinner one eve, at a very high end restaurant (EURO 100 for one person, yikes!) and I was laughing my ass off. I really connected with the part where Paul (main character) went back to the UK and realised that he finessed the
...art of being french: in how some things (fill in blank here, yet for the book, use "British") all of sudden became disdainful, repulsive and sometimes a true burden to endure
due to his experience in Paris. It is funny how a country shapes us, we never really know how much we have absorbed the local culture and its nuances until we go back to what may be considered "home".
I have the same experiences as well, I could connect with Paul, as after living in Denmark for 3 years, going to the US was a shock itself, to the point where I am not comfortable there. Three days is enough, I feel like I am suffocating a slow death, surrounded by poor quality food, too much noise, too much light, too much movement, stress... you name it. Everything American. Even when I was in the US last fall for 3 weeks (the first time I had been in a homogenous American setting in 4 years for such a length), the group kept me on the outside as they felt I was not American. They even said I dress like a European, even though I still buy my clothes in the US! (much cheaper there)
And I did not realise how Danish I have become and feel until I moved here to Switzerland. To the point that several colleagues though I was Danish for quite sometime until the cat was let out of the bag... damn blue passport!
Jeg er danskere, for helvede! :)
Why are you looking at me in the eyes, we are not supposed to do that unless we are toasting each other! What do you mean you put some jelly based icky pooh on these little sandwiches, have you not heard of the concept of smoerebroed? Why are you confirming an appointment, we already made the verbal agreement several months ago and it still stands! Why on earth are you even striking up a conversation with me on the bus, we do not know each other! Why are we not asking the group, what do you mean consensus is not important? And why do you press the "close doors" button as soon as you enter the elevator?
Yet I am diverging from my original thought and what I want to express, for the book triggered my trip down memory lane.
My ethnicity (different from my nationality) is equally 25% Swedish (can't you tell from my 149.9cm stature?), 25% Ukranian (fiery spirit), 25% Italian (more fiery spirit, great cook, olive skin, and for some reason abhor pasta).... and....
25% French.
The book triggered in me... what makes me French?
Well, for starters, I am for the common everyday person, to the point that from an organisational standpoint I prefer to work things from the bottom up. Plus I love any opportunity to serve on the side of the underdog, the little person. I will go to all lengths! Even fly to the US to serve in politcal campaigns, volunteer to build homes, hold art auctions for the poor, food collections for food pantrys... you name it. If there is a struggle, I am in the middle of it fighting for the have nots. I feel most free, liberated and connected when I do these things.
Yet growing up I do not remember any of the French side.... we did the Italian Christmas, Ukranian Easter (which I like to do to this day), studied the Swedish genes... yet the French?
I wonder if the French side just said "phooey to celebrating the other, we will not join in this nonsense" and allowed its presence to be known by its absence.
Did it manifest in the fact that, while in undergrad, while everyone was drinking wine coolers and beer, I was the only one sipping red wine?
Where are all my French connections?
I did study French Intellectualism in the 19th Century for one year while in undergrad. My prof, Stephen Vincent, was tres sans culottes in his essence. Long hair, always late, and preferred to moving our evening classes to the local brewery for study and local fare. Too bad at the time I was not 21, for I did envy those drinking the beer!
I met my first very-true-blue-white-and-red Frenchman in undergrad. His name is Alain, and at the time he was at least in his late 40's. He came to Raleigh and opened a wine store, our very first dedicated one at that in the early 90's. He was the first to introduce me to the art of wine tasting, as he pridefully put his Beaujolais upbringing in everything he did. Including his comments, which one eve as I was with my then boyfriend (things must have looked strained), he says to the then beau "if you do not tend to your garden, someone else will". He opened my eyes to the wines from his region, and every year would fly in the Nouveau in a private jet directly from Beaujolais to a invitation only dinner. Traditional french food, music and all!
I felt tres cool then, at the tender age of 22.
And from there, I have no idea where it went. Yet it has landed me here in the French part of Switzerland now.
Oops, it did strike me again when the US went through their ridiculous anti-French stage. My friends and I went out of our way to buy Evian, croissants and anything-and-everything French. And to add to the annoyance, whenever someone made a reference to the Statue of Liberty, I would candidly with sublime innocence ask "gee, wonder who gave us that gift in 1888"?
And when I first moved to Denmark, I was told that my Danish had a French accent (have no idea where that came from!).... and interestingly my French has a Danish accent (no surprise).
Ok, I do have a penchant for Hermes scarfs and bracelets, and am diehard Aubade devotee.
And I have added Viktor & Rolf to my consumption.
Yet the interesting thing, as I was flying to Marbella, reading the book and laughing the whole way (prob to the dismay of my neighbours), I am wondering if I need to explore more my French roots to sustain Suisse culture.
Then again, this is Suisse!! :)
So as I headed off the plane to grab a taxi, I was really putting my energies into this... then the cab driver asks me which part of South America I am from.... ...arg, my Cuban- accented Spanish blew my cover!!!
C'est la vie!
question: how do you (re) connect with your roots?
17 September 2008
detachment theory...
Youpi! Only 11 hours and I am on the plane to Marbella!
(heads up Elvis)... I can guarantee that I will not be posting while in Marbella as I have PLEDGED to not carry a laptop neither crackberry (blackberry) on my trip. I even flirted with the thought of leaving my mobile behind... yet alas, should their be an emergency or some-sort-of-drama, I may need her.
I will be honest, I am mentally checked out for the moment... for I have subscribed to the notion of
...detachment theory: the opposite of the psychoanalytical postulate of attachment theory
What is attachment theory, anyway?
I acquiese that this evening I am removed from the mood, and therefore offer to you the cheaters version on wikipedia. The bottom line is that in all interpersonal relationships, we form an attachment. The range and degree (whether it is the strength of the bond or the "healthiness" of said bond) depends on our lifeform (child or adult) and our environment.
(yes, smack me for skimping, yet I am following Polonius when he says "brevity is the soul of wit")
Basically, I am cutting off ties for a bit while in Marbella. Just for a bit though, as I do thrive on interacting with others, yet I direly need to recharge. I have not detached at all since being in Switzerland, and in fact, I am pretty sure that I have not in this lifetime as of yet.
So, I have packed my clothes, iPod and books (A Year in the Merde is there, thanks Xavier!) and my open curiosity to life. As mentioned in the previous post, this is a first, truly "only for me" indulgence and I am ready for it!
On the flip-- what if we are unattached to detach?
I can tell you, after going full throttle for quite a while, if we do not, we suffer. At least I have, and I almost hit a brickwall. Which, by the way, is no fun! Mortar is not forgiving!
My 2 cents are... inspiration and motivation are key to life and our being. And it is cyclical, in the sense that we do not have it at all times and therefore need to seek it out in alternative means. It, like all things, needs a tune up... hence Marbella.
question: how do you tune up?
(heads up Elvis)... I can guarantee that I will not be posting while in Marbella as I have PLEDGED to not carry a laptop neither crackberry (blackberry) on my trip. I even flirted with the thought of leaving my mobile behind... yet alas, should their be an emergency or some-sort-of-drama, I may need her.
I will be honest, I am mentally checked out for the moment... for I have subscribed to the notion of
...detachment theory: the opposite of the psychoanalytical postulate of attachment theory
What is attachment theory, anyway?
I acquiese that this evening I am removed from the mood, and therefore offer to you the cheaters version on wikipedia. The bottom line is that in all interpersonal relationships, we form an attachment. The range and degree (whether it is the strength of the bond or the "healthiness" of said bond) depends on our lifeform (child or adult) and our environment.
(yes, smack me for skimping, yet I am following Polonius when he says "brevity is the soul of wit")
Basically, I am cutting off ties for a bit while in Marbella. Just for a bit though, as I do thrive on interacting with others, yet I direly need to recharge. I have not detached at all since being in Switzerland, and in fact, I am pretty sure that I have not in this lifetime as of yet.
So, I have packed my clothes, iPod and books (A Year in the Merde is there, thanks Xavier!) and my open curiosity to life. As mentioned in the previous post, this is a first, truly "only for me" indulgence and I am ready for it!
On the flip-- what if we are unattached to detach?
I can tell you, after going full throttle for quite a while, if we do not, we suffer. At least I have, and I almost hit a brickwall. Which, by the way, is no fun! Mortar is not forgiving!
My 2 cents are... inspiration and motivation are key to life and our being. And it is cyclical, in the sense that we do not have it at all times and therefore need to seek it out in alternative means. It, like all things, needs a tune up... hence Marbella.
question: how do you tune up?
16 September 2008
men, hvorfor ikke...
Sheesh, less than 48 hours and I am on a plane to Marbella!
who.would.have.ever.guessed.
I can tell you that I am ASTOUNDED (and for those of you who know me, we are in the same boat) that I am actually taking a holiday for me. Just me.
Hva'??????
I have battled the idea of doing something that I perceive as "selfish" for a long time. I have usually saved my holiday time to dash back to the US to do the fam thing (not doing that anymore, my life is here) or donate my time to key political races in the US (love it, too toxic of an environment, and to be honest, cannot detach).
To even consider sitting on a beach, alone, in a nice resort to focus on me in the past would have never been a thought to cross my mind.
So when my financial advisor came to see me last week, he sensed that I was under the gun. Not that work has been stressful, it actually has not, yet he sensed something was off key. Bottom line, I have not detached one bit since getting here. I have tagged work travel with hols, I really have not just "shut down". So he shows me this amazing resort in Marbella and afterwards I think
... men, hvorfor ikke: why not?
I have come to realise that doing, or rather choosing, to do things for ourself indeed helps us all in the long run. After all, if we do not take care of ourselves, how are we to move our energy forward with others?
Sooooooo.... a few clicks and a reservation at a tres, tres cool resort, I am leaving Thursday morning! Of course, the cheering of "do it, do it!" helped me along the way from Xavier. I wondered if he was as excited as I was! Well, once the bill comes in..... nah, skip it! :)
Yet to balance things out, I am also going to Portugal in November to volunteer with Habitat for Humanity to build homes in the city of Braga. So I am still tuning into the side of me that likes to give back to this world, the part of me that thrives on empowering.
Now the packing drama has commenced. Thank goodness my clothes are lightweight and my tennis racquet fits in the luggage (heck, I could too with my vertically challenged self, it would be less expensive to travel that way!). I am daring to fly with EasyJet (am an SAS brat, a gold card carrying one at that!) and there are so many restrictions. Ah well, c'est la vie/det er livet/es la vida!
No laptop/e mail/blackberry required. In fact, I may drop kick them into the sea.
(ok, maybe not, I was being brave there for a mo', yet to think of the look on my VP's face when I have to explain to where they disappeared...)
question-- when do you hvorfor ikke?
who.would.have.ever.guessed.
I can tell you that I am ASTOUNDED (and for those of you who know me, we are in the same boat) that I am actually taking a holiday for me. Just me.
Hva'??????
I have battled the idea of doing something that I perceive as "selfish" for a long time. I have usually saved my holiday time to dash back to the US to do the fam thing (not doing that anymore, my life is here) or donate my time to key political races in the US (love it, too toxic of an environment, and to be honest, cannot detach).
To even consider sitting on a beach, alone, in a nice resort to focus on me in the past would have never been a thought to cross my mind.
So when my financial advisor came to see me last week, he sensed that I was under the gun. Not that work has been stressful, it actually has not, yet he sensed something was off key. Bottom line, I have not detached one bit since getting here. I have tagged work travel with hols, I really have not just "shut down". So he shows me this amazing resort in Marbella and afterwards I think
... men, hvorfor ikke: why not?
I have come to realise that doing, or rather choosing, to do things for ourself indeed helps us all in the long run. After all, if we do not take care of ourselves, how are we to move our energy forward with others?
Sooooooo.... a few clicks and a reservation at a tres, tres cool resort, I am leaving Thursday morning! Of course, the cheering of "do it, do it!" helped me along the way from Xavier. I wondered if he was as excited as I was! Well, once the bill comes in..... nah, skip it! :)
Yet to balance things out, I am also going to Portugal in November to volunteer with Habitat for Humanity to build homes in the city of Braga. So I am still tuning into the side of me that likes to give back to this world, the part of me that thrives on empowering.
Now the packing drama has commenced. Thank goodness my clothes are lightweight and my tennis racquet fits in the luggage (heck, I could too with my vertically challenged self, it would be less expensive to travel that way!). I am daring to fly with EasyJet (am an SAS brat, a gold card carrying one at that!) and there are so many restrictions. Ah well, c'est la vie/det er livet/es la vida!
No laptop/e mail/blackberry required. In fact, I may drop kick them into the sea.
(ok, maybe not, I was being brave there for a mo', yet to think of the look on my VP's face when I have to explain to where they disappeared...)
question-- when do you hvorfor ikke?
15 September 2008
being a brat...
There is no other place in this world we spend more time at than at our jobs. Well, ok, there is a tie between that and waiting at red traffic lights.
So, the relationships that we have at the office are important, everyone contributes to our lives in such special ways, and living in the moment is even more sacred (well, to me) when at the office for we pass so much time together. Albeit the meetings are a drain.... yet I diverge.
Today Xavier and I are rather punchy, a fab way to kick off a Monday. E mails flurrying about, on furniture shopping, food shopping and the Suisse challenge of getting all things done BEFORE 7pm as the shops close then (well, most, yet in the villages as early as 6pm). And amongst "discussing" (e-banter???) shop closing times, Xavier decides to remind me that he is correct after all with 7pm closure for Coop, Fly (no, not a hip hop store, a furniture store actually) and I forget what else. So I take it upon myself and embrace
...being a brat: countering with something mischevious and childlike
and simply return an e mail stating "(sticking tongue out)", thenpromptly returning to my work as that is why I am paid.
Out of nowhere, my Cheeky Monkey appears in my office, only to quickly stick his tongue out at me and run off! Arg! And then, to rub salt into my wound of dammit-why-did-I-not-think-of-that-first, he kindly sends me an e mail to remind me that he was first.
Oef!
And to top it off, he is now a subscriber to my blog (good thing!), holding me accountable to making more than the occassional post. (yes, I know, I have not been the best...). And of course he sent me an e mail to let me know!
Let's see who gets the "touche" moment when we go salsa dancing tomorrow.
(sticking tongue out)!
question-- what is your brat-ness?
So, the relationships that we have at the office are important, everyone contributes to our lives in such special ways, and living in the moment is even more sacred (well, to me) when at the office for we pass so much time together. Albeit the meetings are a drain.... yet I diverge.
Today Xavier and I are rather punchy, a fab way to kick off a Monday. E mails flurrying about, on furniture shopping, food shopping and the Suisse challenge of getting all things done BEFORE 7pm as the shops close then (well, most, yet in the villages as early as 6pm). And amongst "discussing" (e-banter???) shop closing times, Xavier decides to remind me that he is correct after all with 7pm closure for Coop, Fly (no, not a hip hop store, a furniture store actually) and I forget what else. So I take it upon myself and embrace
...being a brat: countering with something mischevious and childlike
and simply return an e mail stating "(sticking tongue out)", thenpromptly returning to my work as that is why I am paid.
Out of nowhere, my Cheeky Monkey appears in my office, only to quickly stick his tongue out at me and run off! Arg! And then, to rub salt into my wound of dammit-why-did-I-not-think-of-that-first, he kindly sends me an e mail to remind me that he was first.
Oef!
And to top it off, he is now a subscriber to my blog (good thing!), holding me accountable to making more than the occassional post. (yes, I know, I have not been the best...). And of course he sent me an e mail to let me know!
Let's see who gets the "touche" moment when we go salsa dancing tomorrow.
(sticking tongue out)!
question-- what is your brat-ness?
08 September 2008
am I there yet...
Well, for sure I am still here!
Again, so much has passed over the months I have woken up to realise that I have not held my end of the deal here. So much has happened, my world has been spinning, and at the same time I have had the most amazing opportunities to grow over this past year that I am beginning to wonder...
...am I there yet: have I reached the point in my life where I am ready for "the experience of a lifetime"?
And what actually is "the experience of a lifetime", anyway?
It is a very personal thing for all of us, and it has our own meaning. For me, it is to find the love of a lifetime, and the details I will spare you. The bottom line, someone to share the experience of life and all it has to offer.
As I journey alone, I do create my own experiences, each and every day, and I am enjoying every minute of it-- both the joyous and sadness. It is what makes us human.
And getting there over the past year here in Switzerland has been one heck of a journey! And I have also realised that even though I have gained so much, I have not shared with you all what the "its" are. So I will over the course of (whatever time it takes) share what I have learned and faced. Specifically,
- managing emotions (they are neither positive nor negative, they just are!! and the good news is that they pass)
- managing negative thoughts (yes, we have them, the trick is that many think the thought creates the emotion, yet I have learned that the emotive state creates the thought, for we assign meaning to the emotion with thought-- some so deeply buried from over the years we may not even know WHY the emotion is there, it just is)
- accepting that people come into our lives to give us the choice to grow
- facing even more dimensions of who I am, new ones that have popped up over the past year
- how to honor myself and my passions without feeling... guilty
- how to live in the moment and not overplan (yes, planning is avoidance!)
- embracing synchrodestiny (hint... grab "The Spontaneous Fulfillment of Desire" by Deepak Chopra)
And a whole host of other things.
So... am I ready?
YES!
And... and am I deserving?
YES!
And are you?
YES!!!
So let's enter a conversation over all the above points and get to the bottom of it all-- that we are human, we are wonderful beings and deserve to listen to our hearts and follow suit.
The above could not have been possible without the beautiful people and experiences I have had so far here in Switzerland.
And, I have to say, I owe it to a colleague at work for getting me back on track with my blog. Thanks for the kick in the pants, Cheeky Monkey!
On the flip-- how do we know when we "get there"?
The trick is, we never know. And we are not supposed to know... that is the gift and mystery of life. In trusting the process, along with our instincts (feelings!) we always land where should for the moment for a greater purpose. In the end, we all do arrive. As we should.
question-- what is your "there"?
Again, so much has passed over the months I have woken up to realise that I have not held my end of the deal here. So much has happened, my world has been spinning, and at the same time I have had the most amazing opportunities to grow over this past year that I am beginning to wonder...
...am I there yet: have I reached the point in my life where I am ready for "the experience of a lifetime"?
And what actually is "the experience of a lifetime", anyway?
It is a very personal thing for all of us, and it has our own meaning. For me, it is to find the love of a lifetime, and the details I will spare you. The bottom line, someone to share the experience of life and all it has to offer.
As I journey alone, I do create my own experiences, each and every day, and I am enjoying every minute of it-- both the joyous and sadness. It is what makes us human.
And getting there over the past year here in Switzerland has been one heck of a journey! And I have also realised that even though I have gained so much, I have not shared with you all what the "its" are. So I will over the course of (whatever time it takes) share what I have learned and faced. Specifically,
- managing emotions (they are neither positive nor negative, they just are!! and the good news is that they pass)
- managing negative thoughts (yes, we have them, the trick is that many think the thought creates the emotion, yet I have learned that the emotive state creates the thought, for we assign meaning to the emotion with thought-- some so deeply buried from over the years we may not even know WHY the emotion is there, it just is)
- accepting that people come into our lives to give us the choice to grow
- facing even more dimensions of who I am, new ones that have popped up over the past year
- how to honor myself and my passions without feeling... guilty
- how to live in the moment and not overplan (yes, planning is avoidance!)
- embracing synchrodestiny (hint... grab "The Spontaneous Fulfillment of Desire" by Deepak Chopra)
And a whole host of other things.
So... am I ready?
YES!
And... and am I deserving?
YES!
And are you?
YES!!!
So let's enter a conversation over all the above points and get to the bottom of it all-- that we are human, we are wonderful beings and deserve to listen to our hearts and follow suit.
The above could not have been possible without the beautiful people and experiences I have had so far here in Switzerland.
And, I have to say, I owe it to a colleague at work for getting me back on track with my blog. Thanks for the kick in the pants, Cheeky Monkey!
On the flip-- how do we know when we "get there"?
The trick is, we never know. And we are not supposed to know... that is the gift and mystery of life. In trusting the process, along with our instincts (feelings!) we always land where should for the moment for a greater purpose. In the end, we all do arrive. As we should.
question-- what is your "there"?
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