feed thyself (thy family, too)

Since moving we've been doing a lot more cooking at home, and it's such a relaxing way to unwind in the evenings. Our kitchen is easily my favorite room in the house--bright and light, with plenty of room for everyone.

When I lived in Germany, we ate all three meals together as a family every day. Breakfast was simple, usually some sort of spread/bread combo and coffee. Lunch was the big meal of the day and almost always hot. Around 4pm we'd have an espresso break, sometimes with a small piece of chocolate or a cookie. In the evenings we'd have our abendsbrot (bread with cheese or a savory spread) accompanied by soup or salad. (When there was a good mystery show on we'd eat dinner in front of the TV, which is about the only similarity to my American upbringing.) If we'd gone out for kaffee und kuchen (coffee and cake) earlier in the afternoon we'd skip dinner altogether. I loved the simplicity, routine, and ritual of it all. I'd like to raise Caleb with a version of this German approach to mealtimes.

Today was a success, and the more I meal plan, food shop, and recipe hunt, the easier it all becomes. I also enjoy it so much. I find having a routine to be really freeing, actually.

This morning Caleb enjoyed a banana while I drank a smoothie based on one served at our local juice bar. Their version uses dates, coconut, and vanilla almond milk with lots of ice. I subbed coconut almond milk for the vanilla, skipped the ice, kept the dates, and added banana, frozen spinach, and flax meal. It was SO GOOD! Extremely filling and energizing.

For lunch, I made a cauliflower soup adapted from a slew of recipes I cobbled together. I started with a mirepoix, added an entire head of cauliflower (cut into florets), and used vegetable stock for the liquid (hence the orange-y color). Before serving I stirred in a spoonful of Greek yogurt for a little creaminess, then topped it off with crumbled goat cheese and chives. Satisfying without being overly hearty. Caleb gobbled it up, too. On the side I had a pretzel roll with avocado and havarti.

Once dinner rolled around I wasn't that hungry. A small serving of hot salt-and-vinegar potatoes was plenty (and delicious!). I followed the recipe in the link but subbed tricolor potatoes, since I already had them on hand. And once again, Caleb was a major fan :) We all especially loved the purple potatoes.

I've got a few more recipes already chosen for the week centered on ingredients we already have. I'd also like to try something unlike anything I've done before (not hard, as what you see here is pretty much my first real and consistent foray into cooking). Garlic scape tempura, anyone?

an inkling

It's still so early in our story.

Everything is unfolding.

I feel hopeful, nervous, ready for what comes.

I guess there's no cure for wanderlust after all. Once again, I cannot wait to see the world.

And I have a feeling: The best years of our lives are ahead, closer than we know.


--
Image via

itchy feet

Image via

"Travel far enough, you meet yourself."

David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas

. . .

Oh, how I want to GO these days! To pack a bag, set off for the unknown, move only in the moment, stick a few more pins in maps of far off places....

I can't wait to travel with our little one. I love the idea of strapping him to my back and setting off on an adventure together.

"You can have the life you want." 

I continue to repeat this to myself until I feel the full force of it. And I remind myself that "not yet" is not the same as "never". 

Besides, I am now a "we" but somehow still me, and navigating that is its own miraculous adventure. 

But I am hungry for travel in such a primal way, as though it's essential to my very survival. I'm not unhappy with our decision to stay where we are for at least one more year; this is the first time I've ever renewed a lease, and that sort of steady feels good right now. It's just that there's also so much more world to see! And I want to be one of those crazy people that keeps getting her hands dirty, keeps pushing and challenging and exploring far beyond my backyard. 

Not too long ago I felt "traveled out"; the thought of putting my suitcase into storage almost came as a relief. Now, though, I see I was equating "travel" with "moving", since a packed case generally contained much of what I owned and meant leaving for months or a year at a time. I am still in no way ready for another overseas move (or any kind of move anywhere, really), but a solid two week trip outside the US? I'll take it. Oh, god, in a heartbeat, I'm there.

to them, on a tuesday:

"You are so busy being you that you have no idea how utterly unprecedented you are."

John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

(Images, top to bottom: Laura in Prague | Maria at snack time | Tamara in Oman

. . . And a note: Three women, three different continents, all dear friends of this lucky soul. Some of the most genuine, passionate, kind-hearted people I've ever come across, they embody this quote.)

for your sunday

"Midday" oil painting by Erin Spencer, via my Pinterest

Wendell Berry

A SPIRITUAL JOURNEY

And the world cannot be discovered by a journey of miles,
no matter how long,
but only by a spiritual journey,
a journey of one inch,
very arduous and humbling and joyful,
by which we arrive at the ground at our feet,
and learn to be at home.

--

This is one of "those poems" for me. I'm still in the hand-to-heart, can't-let-go stage and have a feeling I'll return to these words many, many times in the future.

photo feature

Yesterday a blog friend from Abu Dhabi featured one of my photos from Nepal as part of her "From the Hip Friday" series -- my first time ever making an appearance on someone else's blog!

Jill taught in Abu Dhabi for nearly three years but is currently exploring all that Australia has to offer. I loved reading her stories about life in the Gulf as Andy and I prepared for our move, and it's a lot of fun now watching her do what she does best: Travel! Great photos and great stories. Get yourself over there already and check it out. Thanks for having me, Jill!

And here are a few more images from Nepal, where a friend and I spent ten days living and working in an orphanage last July . . .

Man, looking at these brings back SO MUCH. Wish I could beam myself there again, if only for a little while.

Hope you're having a wonderful weekend! x

on you go

Image via

My feet always seem to get so itchy this time of year! They want to be walking the cobblestone streets of Europe, or hiking through forests and up mountains, or exploring market stalls at an African bazaar. They want to be run run running, moving through and away to a place that is anywhere but here.

It's hard to reconcile that itch with the gratitude I still feel for our little home base, and the satisfaction that comes from being around family and friends once again.

How does one step into her life? Become who she is? Do her life's work? How do you ever figure out just what that is? I'm never sure. I'm good with ideas; less so with the follow through. Sometimes getting lost is what helps you find yourself. Maybe being metaphorically lost here at home, in my own country and culture, is exactly what I need. Perhaps there's something to be said for sticking it out. But oh my god, it can be so hard.

How can I feel so fulfilled and still so lonely? Probably what I want to run away from is me. I want to forget myself for awhile, and travel makes it so easy to do that. In that light, my goal to climb Kilimanjaro by the time I turn 30 makes utter sense (a "to-do" I made at 19, now anticipated for 2014). Testing yourself physically and mentally like that brings all the focus to the moment, to simply taking one step after the other. You stop over-analyzing in an effort to survive. And no, Kilimanjaro isn't the toughest undertaking out there, but it's been brewing deep inside me for so long that I don't think there's anyway I could not do it.

Seeing the world allows me to escape myself -- my "self" -- and become more fully realized at the same time. I'm not sure I'll ever settle for staying put. In fact, I think it's exactly what makes home feel that much sweeter: Gratitude is magnified by the return.

A literal home and to feel at home wherever I am . . . The search gives me both questions and answers, comfort and dissonance. I guess we'll see where it leads. Because, trite as it sounds, it's true: You never know what might happen next. Sometimes you have to keep walking; other times it's a matter of waiting. In any case, on you go.

x

life, last year

Speaking of processing the expat experience, I discovered a few photos from the UAE/Oman archives the other day while hunting for some files on my computer . . .

Throw your hands up! We met some gorgeous children at dusk on the outskirts of an Omani village, all because we followed a sign that said "Castle." I love a good detour. The castle turned out to be locked, but it didn't matter: The children were magic.

At the "Grand Canyon of Arabia." I look like I'm trying to hang artwork or arrange furniture: "A little to the left -- wait, no, now down, no, up . . . ." (I think I was pointing out hiking trails, though we saved those for a return visit.)

Buying a goat hair rug on the top of Jebel Shams, where the same family of herders has been weaving them for years. On a later visit, thanks to a string of inadvertently fortunate events, we were invited inside this man's home, where we were given tea and dates while conversing as best we could with both him and his eldest son. Again, magic.

Riding a camel for the first time while on a desert safari. Honestly, I felt bad for these creatures, but there are some things you don't escape the UAE without doing.

I've already got plans for one of these to make an appearance on this year's Christmas card. I know it probably feels too soon to be thinking about that, but I want to make them myself which requires a little more time and effort. Plus, we have last year's to beat ;)

--

PS - Thanks to our friend Phil, photo-maker extraordinaire, for capturing these images and many more of us and our life in the Gulf. Lord knows we never would've gotten around to it ourselves!

between grief and high delight

Image via

I had a breakdown in the shower this morning.

Between working long hours as the days get shorter and barely seeing my husband (and, let's face it, quickly falling into sibling-like squabbles when our paths do cross), I've hardly had time to grocery shop, let alone focus on art or writing of any kind. So my emotional world has been a little out of whack.

 

But then this morning, somewhere in the middle of sobbing and shampooing, I had a wild thought: "This is probably just re-entry shock."

How come so many lightbulb moments are also "duh" moments?

Image via

So I got out of the shower, dried my eyes and combed my hair, and did what I generally do in times of need: Googled. 

After a few minutes of clicking and skimming, I came across the book Homeward Bound by Robin Pascoe. In the introduction, the author says it took her two years plus to cycle through rollercoaster that is re-entry after repatriation.

Two. Years.

I haven't stayed in one place for more than two years in almost a decade. Which means that, since moving abroad for the first time in 2004 (as an exchange student to Germany), I've never let the cycle of reverse culture shock fully run its course.

This is a monumental realization for me. (Cue "Duh" bulb number two.)
 

No wonder my life has felt slightly derailed ever since then! No wonder I'm craving rootedness more deeply with each passing month -- and finding it so difficult to find.

Image via

I told a friend the other day that I already have itchy feet, and it's true: I've been daydreaming about teaching English in Ethiopia on a regular basis.

I've also been craving art more than ever, maybe because it's the one thing I've carried with me wherever I've been (well, that and a debit card ;) Also, a good notebook and pencil). When I'm making, I'm in the process even when I'm not actively creating (meaning, I'm constantly thinking about what I'm making), and the rest of life feels approximately ten thousand times more in balance. 

I know that what I need right now is most definitely NOT another move. It's simply more art.

That, and about 24 months.

Image via

return

Leaving Budhanilkantha, Nepal, after a blessing from our hosts.

Back in my old room in Chicago after a whirlwind of summer-so-far. Lots of welcome changes ahead . . . but more on that another day. For now I just wanted to stop in on this space, make sure it knows I haven't forgotten. I've started sorting and packing yet again, all the remnants of my past lives, now sprawled around me in various bins and boxes and tipping over piles. It always feels like such an impossible task, deciding what to keep and where to put it.

I am sentimental.

I like mementos.

I like the story, mystery, and beauty of objects.

Flipping through an old notepad, I found the usual to-do lists. But then, tucked in between the pages of class assignments and grocery lists, there was this:

really

i am just very human

listening for bells

and looking for light

as i wander my way

through this world.

Five years later, and that still sounds just about right.

breathe deep, and remember:

Image here, via my Pinterest

adventures in absence

Image via

Ahhh sweet sweet summertime! I'm not quite feeling it yet -- still a couple more days of work before I board my flight to Nepal . . . right in the middle of monsoon season! Guess I didn't plan that so well, eh? Rainy days aside, I don't think it will really fell like summer until I've landed safely in Chicago and am sitting on my parents porch, sipping something chilly and staring at the trees. 

I am SO. CLOSE.

In the meantime, I've been showing a dear friend from the States all around Abu Dhabi. We've been to Liwa, Al Ain, Dubai, and back, which has meant considerable time behind the wheel for me. I'd been relying on Andy to do most of the driving before, so it feels especially good knowing I can navigate my city (and the entire Emirate!) and still arrive home safely and in one piece.

Behind the wheel in the desert | Photo courtesy of Maria

Wandering around the Liwa | Photo courtesy of Maria

Oh yeah, did I forget to mention? Andy has been back in the U.S. since mid-June, working for a small aviation company outside Chicago. So thankful for good friends and plenty of last minute adventures to help fill the void left by his absence.

Speaking of, sorry for my inadvertent absence lately! I've loved keeping this blog in recent months, and hopefully I'll be back on the wagon with regular posts very soon.

turns out, the water's fine

"It was like God was holding a bag of blessings and I was holding a bag of shit, and when I let go of my bag, God was like, 'Here you go.'" (Katori Hall)

Sometimes you think you're holding the second, but when you look inside you realize it's blessings you're carrying around after all . . .  ;)

A few things I'm saying thanks for right now:

1. We have zero dollars in credit card debt. (In fact, the only debt we do have at the moment is what remains of my itty-bitty student loan, under two grand.)

2. Since the age of 18, I've been able to live on four different continents long-term. This has meant being immersed in a range of socio-economic backgrounds, religions, educational systems, and languages. Most importantly, it has meant coming to know and love some incredible people.

In my day-to-day existence, it's easy to nestle up to the loneliness that often comes so naturally me. I have to consciously remind myself that there are people that love me and that I love around the world. A globe full of them! People I would lay down my life for are waking up in America as others are sitting down to dinner in Europe and Africa. There is such power in that.

3. Normally I'm a nothing-but-red girl, but sometimes you just can't beat a dry rosé on a hot day. Very refreshing start to the weekend! 

4. I just ordered new summer shoes (last pair in stock, and in my size -- always a sign!), and I can't wait to wear them 'til they're worn out.

Images: celebrate! | a student's henna'd arm | wine | shoes

watch this: real-life robinson crusoe

A man from Yorkshire purchased his own island (!) in the Seychelles in the '60s. He then proceeded to repopulate the land with giant tortoises, as well as plenty of plant life. I find this glimpse into his life so fascinating!

on somedays

It's no secret that I use and love Pinterest. However, I'm not unaware of the fact that all the time spent collecting various ideas and images makes it easy to lose yourself in a dream world, in the idea of a life instead of the life you are living. To get lost in "someday." 

Someday . . . I'll have a beautiful house with a perfect backyard.

Someday . . . I'll try out this incredible recipe and impress my friends and loved ones.

Someday . . . I'll lose the last ten pounds and wear these stylish clothes.

Someday . . . I'll be happy, wealthy, skinny, and perfect.

I'm not saying it's wrong to dream or even to dally in fantasy on occasion. The danger is in staying there.

In college I took a class called "The Native American Experience." We travelled up to an Ojibwe reservation in Northern Wisconsin, where we spent a weekend camping, attending a naming ceremony, and building a sweat lodge. It was an incredibly powerful experience (and not nearly as stereotypical as it sounds). One of the stories our leader, Nick, told us, was about "The Two Ghosts." In short, he said every person walks around with two ghosts, one in front called Future, and one in back called Past. Whenever we're too caught up in anything but the present, we're living as ghosts, and thus not really living at all.

So lately I've been asking myself: 

What about this day? 

How am I appreciating, enjoying, and staying rooted in the here and now? What is perfect about this moment?

And the answer is always: SO MUCH.

What a messy, complicated, thrilling life I am fortunate to live. To let live, through me.