coronavirus as blessing?

My friend, Vernie, used to always say what our overpopulated world really needs is a new plague that can indiscriminately take out a big chunk of the world's population, and while the coronavirus isn't that, I do think there is a silver lining to this cloud.

Obviously, I don't want innocent people dying or even feeling sick. I don't want to see people I love freaking out and buying hazmat suits because they're so scared of what could happen. My heart goes out to the people who are really stressed about schools closing and wondering how their kids who depend on the free lunches are going to eat— not to mention how they're going to work and make sure their family is both safe and also that all of the bills will be paid.

And yes, it's stressful to go shopping and find that Costco is out of toilet paper and Trader Joe's is out of eggs, and you end up buying a case of bottled water even though your fridge has water because everyone else has carts filled with them. The stress is palpable and heavy, spiking and charging the very air we share, everywhere we go now.

It's hard to wrap our heads around all of the schools being closed and basically everything "normal" being canceled. My daughters' school will be closed for at least a month. My husband's work has given everyone two weeks off for spring break, and everything will happen remotely the two weeks after that. So, that's a month for him to be home, too.

This weekend, my daughter didn't attend Girl Scouts or a birthday pool party. My husband and I skipped a wine tasting party, and I was going to miss my acting class— until it was canceled.

We're canceling our spring break trip to Mexico to explore ruins with cousins and siblings. We're canceling our summer plans to go to Taiwan so my daughters can learn Chinese. I love travel and am sad to let those adventures go, but I also recognize how lucky I am to be "stuck" somewhere pretty nice and continue to strive to find the bright side of all this.

So, as we grapple to find our new normal, here is something to consider.

What if the world's problem is not coronavirus? What if our collective ailment is our competitive go-go-go mentality that has left everyone feeling increasingly isolated and stressed? What if the coronavirus and our now enforced quarantine is the solution?

I know this will not be a popular opinion, but I think maybe staying home and slowing down is just what we all need.

Maybe we were so pigheaded about going forward forward forward (or what we perceived to be forward), unable to even consider slowing down, that it took something as crazy as COVID-19 to literally knock the wind out of us, grabbing both of our arms and stapling us to the floor, to force us to snap out of our whirlwind lives and STOP for a second to look around and consider our lives.

I can imagine someone rising from the dust of being thrown to the ground, shaking their head in a daze as they look around, like Dorothy waking up in Oz. Except this is our real life that we maybe allowed to go on autopilot for too long.

How did I get here? Is this the life I want? Am I giving the world all that I can? Am I on the path that best serves me and my family? Am I pushing myself in the best ways-- growing, contributing, leaving a lasting positive impact on our collective world?

Maybe the coronavirus is actually a wake-up call to live our lives more fully.

If you're an adult, is this the grown-up life you'd dreamed of living when you were a kid?

If you're a parent, I can imagine the dazed head shaking and saying, "Wow, my daughter/son is how old now?" It can almost bring me to tears when I think of my young children— weren't they just babies a second ago? Where has the time gone? Have I done enough and loved them enough as a mama? What if the rest of their childhood passes in a blur, and I miss it? I can't let that happen!

If you're an even more mature adult, have you used your decades on this planet to serve humanity, gather wisdom, and share love and kindness to all? (Because you know, all people are supposed to have done that by the time they're old, right?)

We have more control than we think, and we can all live lives that we want. It's not just a luxury for the ultra rich (who I have not perceived to be happier or more free).

Within our mundane everyday lives, we can find sparkling moments of joy and love and connection and meaning, but we have to create the space and time for them— and many of us don't seem to have even a nanosecond to stop and breathe. (Hi, parents of young children! Hi, entrepreneurs giving our sweat and blood to nothing more than an idea! Hi, caretakers devoting yourselves to someone else's every day quality of life! And everyone who is giving their all to the struggle that is everyday life! I see you!)

Enter: CORONAVIRUS.

Now, even the world's #1 workaholic has an excuse to just sit down for a second and look around. And that's a form of grace and forgiveness. We all get a break.

So, while not glamorous or exciting, my family is doing a deeper cleaning/organizing of our house today-- something we never have time for. All those random doodads (my girls' "art supplies") that have been stashed here and there are now going to be given proper homes or discarded.

We've been looking at recipes we've been meaning to try but haven't had time for.

My 4-year-old says we should snuggle and read stories all day, and for the first time, it's an idea that we could actually consider.

Of course, we haven't even gotten to day 1 of a month of no school, so ask me how I'm feeling again in a couple days, and I might be ready to drop kick my fighting, complaining kids to outer space, but in the meantime, I'm going to try to find my place of peace and love. And remember to be grateful that for whatever unfathomable reason it might be, I'm given a little extra space to breathe right now.

There's something beautiful in stopping and looking around every once in a while, and I'll try to make the most of it.

living in germany = eating vegetables

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When we imagined a sabbatical year in Europe, we pictured something idyllic like this. It felt both far away and that it would last a long time. And yet, here we are, getting ready to leave already. A month ago, we already had to submit printed letters to both my daughters' schools and to the "castle" we live in to give the required three months' notice that we were leaving. 

When we got here, it felt like we were never going to leave. Now, we have 58 days left in Europe. (Not that I'm counting.) 

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So, we've been in Darmstadt, Germany, for half a year now, and it took us almost that long just to live here legally with all of the necessary paperwork filed and to find great schools for both of our daughters. 

We joke that we should have lived here longer for it to be worth all of the set-up time, energy, and trees killed, but I don't think we would choose to live in Germany again. And before anyone gets offended, I will say we have learned a lot from living here, have made some lovely friends, and have really enjoyed many aspects of life in Darmstadt. 

So, here's our recap of life in Germany:

four days in paris with young children

This is for my dear friends, Cara and Evan, who are headed to Paris tomorrow with their 3- and 5-year-olds, but I figured I might as well share it with you, too, in case you have little kids and are planning a long weekend in the city of lights.

We spent the month of September living in Paris with our 1-year-old and 4-year-old, and we fell in love with the beautiful city. With two little ones in tow, our trip wasn't one of leisurely riverside evenings sipping wine (maybe one day!) but one of going to playgrounds every day and seeking out kid-friendly museums, activities, and restaurants. And Paris was much more family-friendly than I'd expected.

So! Here are some of our favorite kid-friendly discoveries in what we feel is the most beautiful city in the world. Enjoy!

unfurling

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You know that intoxicating, exhilarating feeling you get when you're falling in love with someone or something new? Where you feel like you've been crumpled up into a tight little ball all of your life and can finally spread your wings and be you and free and open and larger than life and part of the universe at large?

I found it.

For now.

I've fallen in love before, felt this high before, and then life gets in the way, and I lose it again. Well, I'm a little older and a little wiser now, and I'm hoping I'll get to enjoy this flight a little longer this time.

And where is this magical feeling? Funny enough, it has been inspired by my first MOOC (massive open online course) that I'm taking with the University of Iowa. Yes, they're considered the bastion of creative writing in the country, etc., etc., etc. And the fiction course has already been both illuminating and fun. But the real spark for me is the combination of actively writing while also being part of a writing community.

It's like being a frog in a duck pond for years and then discovering other frogs. I've finally found my tribe, and we are a wonderfully quirky bunch. We make jokes about Oxford commas, exalt in a beautiful phrase, and delight in making sentences richer or tighter or more compelling. We bang our heads, drawing the famous trio of body fluids (blood, sweat, and tears) as we struggle to translate the inklings in our heads that feel so magnificent into concrete words that will hopefully also make sense to other people. And maybe, just maybe, we'll be able to write something that someone else will recognize as the truth.

I've connected with one writer so far who I'm already calling my MOOC BFF, and she alone has made my experience as a student once again so much more entertaining and more inspiring than I expected or thought possible. Having someone along for the ride, even if I've never seen her face or heard her voice or know what race she is or anything else, has given the solitary writing career a warmth that I didn't realize was possible. We are connecting as writers first and foremost, and that is an amazing validating experience, too. Thanks, Heather. I've only "known" you online and only for a few weeks so far, but you've already made a positive impact in my life.

So, I tried one career after another, "dating" usually for about four years, and now, I think I've found the One. I'm hoping to finally settle down and commit to being a writer. 100%. No more excuses or distractions.

And from this dream cloud I'm floating in, filled with love and light and enthusiasm, I wish this feeling for everyone. I'm working on a screenplay and hoping to finish it this month. Then, I've signed up for NaNoWriMo and hope to write the novel version of the story in November. And then I have another previous story that I hope to craft into both a novel and screenplay. So, I've made my public commitment and now have to live up to it.

What makes you come alive? What would you do if time and money were no object? What can you do right now/today/this week to inch closer to your dream life? Let's make it happen!

I'm fired up! The sky can't hold me! Want to join me? Let's go!

isla del sol

Sometimes, when I'm wading through mountains of crumpled receipts and trying to get all of my bookkeeping organized, I become an angry person. Quickbooks may be good for some things, and doing your own bookkeeping is great for staying on top of everything, but sometimes, I just want to hurl everything over a windy cliff.

Which means it's a good time to remember Isla del Sol, a tiny island in the middle of Lake Titicaca in Bolivia. It has no cars, no paved roads, and the folklore says it's where the sun came from. (There is a nearby island, Isla de la Luna, where the moon is supposed to have originated.) Whether the legends are true or not doesn't matter too much; the island is covered in Incan ruins and truly has a magical feel to it. There were flowers I'd never seen before that seemed otherworldly.

But let's back up for a second. First, we bought tickets at the edge of Lake Titicaca in Copacabana:

Then, we went off to find the little boat down by the water:

Despite being half-Bolivian, my partner is a lot taller than the average Bolivian:

We waved goodbye to Copacabana:

It was a beautiful ride over, with clouds that looked like feathers:

Shimmering water and two tiny rock islands with one tree each (almost lined up perfectly here):



And a snow-capped mountain, for good measure:



I did a double-take, too, so in case you couldn't make it out, here's a closer shot:



A snow-capped mountain. Next to the island of the sun! It was a lovely surprise—a bit like our boat ride through some of New Zealand's fiords and across Lake Te Anau to see the glow worms in Te Anau.

When we arrived at the actual island, it immediately felt very different from Copacabana.



Copacabana felt like a huge, bustling metropolis in comparison.

Isla del Sol felt lush and peaceful and drenched in sunlight. How appropriate.

This could be their version of Stairway to Heaven:



The ruins were also very impressive.

 The people were pretty small back then.

We didn't get to go on a reed boat, but they're beautiful to behold, even from a distance.

And like our enchanted trip to Nantucket, even the weeds on Isla del Sol are beautiful. This yellow flower looks like the sun... 

Nice one, Isla del Sol.

bouncy balls

We don't watch TV at home, but my daughter now knows two music videos and loves them. The first is the cello video below, and here is the second one. It's actually a commercial, but I think it's a beautiful work of art, and I love the song ("Hearts" by Jose Gonzalez), too. Enjoy!

2cellos

Good morning! Here's a beautiful video to start off your week.

Croatia has been one of my favorite countries for a decade now, and this video shows both the beautiful Plitvice Lakes and the talented Luka Šulić and Stjepan Hauser playing "I Will Wait" by Mumford & Sons. Enjoy.

copacabana, bolivia

When you think of "Copacabana," you might think of a lady with a fruit basket on her head, but that isn't quite what you'll find here.

Continuing on our journey, we passed some naturally rainbow-colored stone:

Some grazing donkeys:

And lots of winding roads.  It almost seemed like the land went from color to black-and-white for a while.

And then we were back to the vibrant green:

We didn't get to stop for the Poncho Museum, but it's pretty neat that it exists:

And then, without warning, we were suddenly barreling down the main street of Copacabana:

We started walking towards Lake Titicaca and our little hotel:

We found our hotel, which we thought was pretty nice for about $25 a night:

Especially with this view of Lake Titicaca:

We dropped off our stuff and enjoyed the festive Carnival atmosphere as we walked around town:

Notice all of the confetti carpeting the stairs:

Even the taxis were ready to party:

The beauty of traveling in Bolivia is that people dress the same way whether it's for a parade or just because it's a normal day.  The cholita outfit has probably remained more or less the same for centuries, and it's awesome: the bowler hats, the full and ruffled skirts, the elaborate shawls, the bright aguayo cloth tied around the back, the long braids...

You'll notice lots of potatoes, too, and Bolivians are proud to tell you this is where potatoes originated and that there are thousands of different kinds of potatoes in the country.

But this is getting long, so I'll stop here.

Next up: Lake Titicaca's Isla del Sol.

the journey to copacabana, bolivia

So, it's officially been ages since I posted about my travels, and I'm finally catching my breath to continue, so back to Bolivia we go!

We took a bus from La Paz, the capital, to Copacabana, a town on the coast of Lake Titicaca, where my partner was baptized.

The story here is that my partner's mom grew up loving the beach as a California girl, and when she and her Bolivian husband (my partner's father) decided to move to Bolivia to raise their kids, the plan was to move to Lake Titicaca (the biggest lake in South America, partly in Bolivia and partly in Peru).

They packed water toys, safety vests, etc. in anticipation of lots of lake-time fun.  Unfortunately, they didn't research the schools until they got there and found them dismally inadequate, so they ended up moving to Cochabamba instead (which was smack in the middle of the land-locked country).

The happy ending here is that once the kids left for college, they ended up moving to the beach in Mexico, so she got her beachfront house after all.  And my partner was baptized in the Copacabana church before they left, so it was neat to see it as a piece of his life history.

I'm getting ahead of myself, though, so let's get back to this bus journey.

So, we left bustling, crowded La Paz and headed west towards Lake Titicaca.

I loved passing little towns and found the sky in Bolivia to be particularly beautiful.

We passed some picturesque soccer fields as we drove along the coast of Lake Titicaca.  Imagine playing on one of these fields every day...

Then, we reached the Estrecho de Tiquina (the Strait of Tiquina).

And paid for the smallest tickets ever.

We then walked around a bit while waiting and came across a monument you probably wouldn't see in the States.

 Our bus boarded a raft, and we boarded a little boat.

We watched our bus sail across the strait on the Tornado behind us:

We landed first and walked around a little while waiting for the bus to catch up:

Finally, the bus arrived.

And we were back on the road on our way to Copacabana.  You'll notice that the bus is decked out with flowers and streamers.  Carnival in Bolivia is amazing-- even the buses and taxis get to celebrate.  I've never been a parade person, but when you go to Oruro for Carnival, prepare to have your mind blown.

Next up: Copacabana.