Nueva ME

The year is gaining momentum. I measure my life in experiences, and experiences for me are moments that stand out. So far this year I have witnessed the wedding of two dear friends in one of my favorite cities (San Diego!), really visited New Orleans as presented from a local native’s perspective, gone skiing in Telluride with my darling family (we actually had snow this time!), and witnessed the wedding of two complete strangers in Cancun (nicely complemented by a couple of days spent in Playa del Carmen immediately thereafter). I’ve attended a workshop on understanding poverty in Indianapolis, enjoyed a fantastic French-themed dinner with family and friends, and found out that my precious dog Bula has cancer. Yes, I know it’s only March, but I want to know what’s next.

Some new things I’ve found lately that keep me happy (and occupied) include Downton Abbey (yes, I know I’m about 2 years behind the rest of the televised world), more hot yoga, daily photos of my niece, and pleasant surprises on living a simplified life.

Loved this NY Times article on living a fuller life with less STUFF:

And I felt drawn to help these urban farmers in South Central LA: http://www.ted.com/talks/ron_finley_a_guerilla_gardener_in_south_central_la.html

So where does that guide me next? My resolution to be more polite to my parents (ahem, roommates) is going well. My resolution to save money until I sell my house is not going well. I’ve stopped shopping, but I have not stopped entertaining myself with expensive meals (can you blame a girl for having a sophisticated palate when only the best will suffice?!). And I definitely haven’t stopped flying.

The remainder of 2013 brings some new adventures. Travel will obviously be a part of that. But does my restless soul need something more grounded (please don’t misinterpret that as “fixed”) to be satisfied? I’m searching for my cause and am accepting applications. I thought this photo I snapped from a taqueria in Playa summed up my current approach to life: Have a table full of flavorful options. When in doubt, try them until you find your favorite.

Stephan, Carrie, Keith, and Stephen at the Uhuru Peak Summit, Tanzania

We don’t normally stop to recall where we were at a specific moment in time from our past. We are busy, our lives have a habit of become routine, and days…months…years…decades run together. I am bound and determined NOT to EVER let that happen to me. Therefore, it seems appropriate to have very large landmarks in my life’s story for each year. What a chronicle this one has been.

I have no problem at all remembering exactly where I was and what I was doing this time last year. This was a momentous week for me (and my family) in 2011. Right about now, my dad, brother, friend, and I were reaching the summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro in Tanzania. That was a life-changing week for me in many ways. The culture of climbing and trekking, the joys of getting to know our guides and porters, the physical challenge of the mountain itself (including camping for 6 nights…ladies, you know what I mean) – the combination of factors that pushed us up to the Roof of Africa left a permanent mark on me.

I can remember exactly how I felt for the last 20 meters before reaching the top. I didn’t want to take another step. I thought it would be easier to walk if I just closed my eyes and slept while my body continued without me. And I even recall thinking, “surely the view isn’t so much better up there than it is right here, I can turn around now.” Thank goodness my little brother came along just then to ask me why I was going the wrong way and make sure I made it up to the top with him to celebrate our amazing accomplishment together.

In some ways, that was the high point of the year for me. After overcoming a year’s worth of emotional anguish and feeling restless in temporary jobs in SF and NY, I felt like things were falling into place. I felt more emotionally and psychologically enlightened than I ever had. The new ideas floating in my head and the conscious creativity coursing through my veins was intoxicating. Then I settled. I took that gift of enlightenment and put it on a shelf in a dark closet and went to work in the Midwest.

That’s why I get the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach, that’s why I don’t make an effort to find friends in Indianapolis, and that’s why I have to (I mean, HAVE to) travel compulsively. I’ve got to find that feeling again, that euphoric sense that I can do anything I want. That I can help the world, or at least improve it in some small way, that I can find other people who care about the things I do. Selfishly, I need to be out exploring the world and finding my next niche.

This week I want to move to Cambodia and help Samaly Mam rescue women who have been traded as sex slaves. Last week I wanted to move to Ecuador to teach sexual health education to women. Probably next week I will want to move to Rwanda to help the various water projects there. Short. Attention. Span. And in the meantime, while I’m busy making up my mind, I’m doing…well…absolutely nothing about it.

This is my struggle – the need to feel that I am fulfilling every aspect of my life. I don’t want to just simply donate money (that’s my easy fix when I’m feeling restless – a new cause of the week gets a $50 spontaneous anonymous gift). I want to DO the things I’m contributing to. Let’s see where that gets me in 2013.

I don’t know where I’m going with this, except to say that I often feel that I have to explain to many of you (not specifically) why I feel the way I do. Not to justify it, not to change it, but just so that you understand me better. I’m not naive enough to think that I’m the only girl out there with dreams bigger than herself, but the angst of youth is just now catching up with me and I’m trying to understand it myself as it drags me around the world. Thanks for listening, and hold on tight for the next round.

I got a lot of really constructive messages from some of you after that last post. Thank you for your collective honesty, support, encouragement, and for helping me really think about what I’m feeling-needing-wanting. Let me clarify one thing: I am not lonely in the traditional sense. The past 2 years have really taught me to enjoy the pleasure of my own company, to indulge in solitude and caving into my own whims without consulting anyone else’s opinion. I have a very keen awareness of what a serious relationship is like. Whether it is a marriage, a cohabitation, or just casual dating…I’ve been there. I clearly remember the positives and negatives to those situations, appreciating the bad that comes with the good.

I’m also not trying to fill some psychological emotional void. It’s really, truly not that. I don’t have an imaginary idea of sunshine and bubbles, blissful happiness at every turn, nauseatingly oblivious displays of public affection, etc. Nope. I have a pretty realistic view on what it takes to make a serious relationship work FOR ME. We’re all different (I love that about the world – otherwise it would be so terribly boring…). And the best news is, we all grow and (hopefully) change. I feel incredibly lucky to have had so many opportunities in my life to learn about my own strengths and weaknesses whilst feeling well reinforced from many of you. Not everyone gets that chance to learn, adapt, and move on from their missteps in life.

So, digging in a little deeper (thank you for prompting this introspection), here’s the thing. I’m tired of making all of the plans. Yes, I just said how much I value my own company. It would, however, be nice if someone could help take care of me. I realize that I have high standards, very specific taste, and an annoying amount of professional experience at making plans. But sometimes, just sometimes, it would be nice not to have to make ALL of the decisions. Yes, of course, you know that I enjoy having my way. But what good is that when you’re appreciating it all by yourself (all of the time)?

It is the partnership that I miss, knowing that you can count on another person regardless of the circumstances. Knowing that you will always put each other first. Is that too cliche?

As I mentioned, I’m only halfway there. The seat belt sign is still illuminated at this point. Still working on the self-love, self-discovery portion of my current learning experience. But I think I’m making progress, at least it feels that way on the inside. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what matters at this altitude. So, thank you again for your public and private feedback. Sincerely, it is invaluable to me. Please continue.

There’s a moment during an aircraft’s takeoff when the plane breaks through the cloud layer and, regardless of the weather you left on the ground, everything becomes sunny. And when the sun is shining, even if you are stuck in the economy cabin, people become happier. At 40,000 feet you are immune to ugly weather.
Is there a way for this to happen during the more terrestrial portions of my life? Sure, I spend a lot of time flying around the world (lucky me!). But it is the time spent on the solid ground that often gets me down. With winter’s imminent approach in the northern hemisphere, and with my assigned work travel dwindling down at the end of next month, how am I to maintain that sunshiny happiness? Flying lessons are certainly an option. And there are those 60s-inspired anti-depression happiness lamps.
Perhaps what I’m actually looking for is a substitute for that feeling. It’s not the sun’s emergence itself, but the optimism and feeling of euphoria invoked by the appearance of something pleasant in your day.
So…how to simulate that without running off to the airport every time I have the winter blahs? Hmm. I think what I’m looking for is love. The side effects are the same – an automatic smile on my face, a notion (even if it’s just an illusion) of invincibility, that silly blind optimism and contagious positivity that comes with falling in love.
This is a revelation. I haven’t felt ready for that in a long time. In fact, I think I’ve been avoiding it at all costs. Have I forgotten how it feels to have my heart trampled? Am I a glutton for punishment? Am I a hopeless romantic like my mother?
I’ve been saying for the last year that I’m really waiting just to love myself. When I’m happy and satisfied with what I’m doing on my own, then I will be ready to share my life and my personality with someone else. At this stage I think I’m only halfway there.
I’m at 20,000 feet, but climbing.

I know this feeling. It starts with a general attention problem and culminates in a trans-continental move. The moss is growing. I never know how quickly it will grow, or how soon its influence will overtake my current life plan. But I do know that I am powerless against its charms, despite my best efforts. Well, ok, being completely honest, I give in to the moss pretty willingly sometimes. It is in my gypsy nature. 

Did today’s birthday inspire this most recent slipperiness? The moss is telling me that if I’m not fulfilling myself well enough by staying in this place, doing this thing or that, then I need to move on. I wonder, though, if there is a way to appease the moss without a physical move? Could there be some negotiation, some compromise, that I just haven’t tried yet? 

The moss is my restlessness, the creeping feeling that I am not doing enough of the right things. I’m quite sure that 99% of it is internal – knowing deep down that I need to make changes in what I’m doing somehow. The toughest part is determining which aspect of my life is requesting a change. Is it my career path? My social circle? How I interact with the world? I want to contribute more, and do it in a more meaningful way. Where to start?  

Or do I just have non-diagnosed ADHD? This is a cry for guidance and suggestions, before the moss takes me away again.

Ok, this is it. I’m back home again in Indiana. I don’t have any solid exotic travel plans again to tempt my frequent flyer tastebuds in the immediate future (annual family ski trip to Utah in February doesn’t count). I’m committed to being here, in Indianapolis, for the foreseeable future. Inconveniently this foreseeable future coincides with the months of WINTER, something I haven’t experienced full-time since 2007. Yikes. My California-style sweaters (cropped and/or thinly woven) will not suffice. It’s time to buckle down and accept this season for what it is.

Transitioning from vacation to real life is never easy. I was lucky enough to get 2 weeks of vacation and even luckier to get to spend those weeks in Brazil, where the temperature did not dip below 75 degrees and sunny. Despite the humidity having its way with my curly hair (resulting in more than one moment in which I felt I was channeling Lionel Richie…), I came back rested, tanned, and optimistic. I think the Brazilian optimism is contagious! Those people know how to have a positive outlook, even if it is not necessarily realistic. They are happy, enthusiastic, friendly, helpful, and just so gosh darn positive. There is trash and raw sewage floating down the river through Sao Paulo? No problem! Build a bike path along the side of it so that families can enjoy the river from a safe distance!

Anne and I spent a delightful week in Bahia. I thought the town of Trancoso was laid-back…until we got to Caraiva. Our daily schedule was as follows: wake up, stretch, eat breakfast, go to the pool or beach, drink fresh coconut water (often served by a man wearing a sunga – see photo), flirt with our fellow sun-bathers (again, man wearing a sunga), eat fresh fish and fruit, shower, nap, eat dinner, drink cachaca, meet more people (former sunga-wearers), try to stay up “late” with the locals, fail to stay up late, sleep under a mosquito net with the sounds of frogs and lizards mingling with the DJ’s music. Repeat. It’s hard not to love that kind of lifestyle – so simple, so carefree, so indulgent, and a really great ego boost. People we met thought it was great that we were learning Portuguese (Anne speaks really well after her 5 months living in Sao Paulo!) and were impressed that, as Americans, we had discovered such off-the-beaten-path coastal towns for our holiday. We literally didn’t meet another English-speaker until we got to Rio. I take that as a sign that we found some good authentic spots.  

Rio de Janeiro provided The.Best.New.Years.Celebration.Ever. Imagine a throng of 2,000,000 (yes, that’s two million) people flocking onto Copacabana Beach, which is crescent-shaped and surrounded by those picturesque jagged rock/mountain things you see in postcard photos of the city. There were no less than 15 cruise ships in the harbor. There were 6 sound stages with live music on each. Literally everyone (including us) was dressed in all white. We threw flowers into the sea for the goddess Yemanja, jumped the seven waves for luck in the new year, and enjoyed the most intense fireworks display I’ve ever seen (15 minutes of panoramic fireworks, correographed to music). Sure, it may have been the champagne and the crowd-sourced (afore-mentioned) enthusiasm, but this was a memorable moment and time seemed to stand still with a collective gasp of awe.

So, again, I’m back. Armed with that contagious sense of optimism, the positivity derived by a combination of the euphoric high from a wonderful vacation and perhaps sleep deprivation, I am ready to tackle 2012. Stand by for unabashedly ambitious resolutions.

The United States is so concerned with food. The people in my life understand that I, in particular, am very concerned with food. San Francisco and cities like it really cater (haha) to that obsession. Airports and Brazil do not. Have you ever tried to find a vegetarian meal (and I mean a good one, not just a Big Mac without the meat) in an airport? They even put meat on salads 99% of the time.
Anyway, since being here I’m off the wagon. It’s too hard and I would be completely without protein. But today I had a delicious salad (hurray) with fresh peaches, goat cheese and arugula – yum! Fresh orange juice, winning. Had to share.

Anne and I fly to Bahia tomorrow for a week at the beach. Super excited! We will be in Trancoso and Caraiva until heading to Rio on the 29th. Goals: sun, fresh fruit, horses, Christmas celebration in the town square, massage, and samba on the beach. Not an overly ambitious list, I feel quite confident about it all!

I don’t like driving a car.
Let me rephrase. I don’t like living in a place where the only option is to drive a car. So while I’m really excited for the proposed public transit upgrade that the semi-liberal citizens of Indianapolis are setting forth right now, let’s be realistic. This network won’t even be voted on by the public until the end of 2012. That means at Least another 2 years of negotiations, bids, construction, red tape blah blah blah
I don’t have time or interest to invest in a project that my tax dollars will fund, but I may never enjoy (sound familiar, social security?!). I don’t have 3 kids and their friends to cart around the neighborhood. Where are we making any progress?

City living. Let’s think about this. It’s going to be a long year.