Friday, July 12, 2013
This morning was as exhilarating and perfect as a day could be. I did something today that I have been wanting to do for eons. I went paragliding! I found the perfect friends to do it with, which makes it even more precious.
We started in a converted 1987 van which my two young Swiss friends are using to travel through Europe this summer. Inside there was Micha's hand-glider, a bed, a trapeze, a refrigerator, a bed, a guitar and the ease of youth. Anna Julia sat in back on the floor, as Micha drove us north along Lake Como to the end of the lake - a town called 'Gera Lario'.
Here, we met the hand-gliding crew on the lakeside which would be our landing field. Fabio looked every inch a 'Fabio' in the imaginations of American women who read romance novels. He had dishelved hair, a rugged and handsome face and a glint in his eye, a daredevil grin that exuded confidence. He smoked a vanilla scented electronic cigarette as he drove the gang up the mountain.
Micha prepared his own hand-glider, as he is a pilot. Pascal took Ann Julia and I had Fabio as my guide.
We walked to this glorious hill with wildflowers and lots of cow paddies. We were 1300 meters high overlooking Lake Como and above the tree line. Life doesn't get much better than that. The day had a slight haze, with crisp breezes and a bright blue sky. Some clouds wafted in the distance.
I put on the gear which is a seat strapped to your legs and torso. I was instructed to run when directed and to lift my knees when I longer felt the ground beneath my feat. I ran and felt as if I was going to trip head first down the mountain, as just then: we were pulled off the ground and into the cool and windy feeling air. No noise except my giggles of delight along with the sound of the breeze. It was as exciting as it was calming.
A thrill of being alive. Today.
We flew for about 20 minutes, allowing me to steer the hand-glider. We rocked left and right as if on a sideways swing. Each swing caused a swelling in my soul and I felt light with joy. We did a spiral, which seems like being in the center of a gentle tornado. And, we floated. Over the mountains. Over the lake. Over the boats carrying wake boarders. And, then.... ever so gently, with a few steps, we were again land bound.
Sweetly and with a sense of having been a bird for just a minute.
Driving home and back to Menaggio....along the old curvy and narrow roads, we were all satisfied. Satiated and happy.
Indeed, it is a good day to be alive.
Friday, July 12, 2013
Thursday, July 11, 2013
I am back at it again!
I have been away from blogging as it seemed so self indulgent. And then a friend mentioned to me that all writing is a bit self indulgent. I had to think on that for awhile and realized that statement might just be true. When we write, we are assuming that someone is going to want to read what we write. There is a bit of ego involved, which had never occurred to me. But, it is precisely that 'self indulgent ego' part that prevented me from continuing the blog on a regular basis.
Recognizing that I must get over that hurdle, and put it out in the universe that I WANT TO WRITE something which others will value on some level: I will begin again and try not to stumble over my ego.
I am sitting in my kitchen right now on Lago di Como overlooking the lake on this crisp, breezy and sunny day. Bellagio sits in front of my view and takes my breath away, as always. The first time I had ever spent a summer here more than two decades ago, I sat on this very expansive terrace overlooking the bounty and beauty which is Lake Como. I remember thinking and saying "If I ever get the chance to return to this lake- at least ONE MORE TIME in my life, my heart and soul will be filled!" Remembering that wish, each time I arrive on the lake and my heart swells with immense appreciation for the incredible beauty and grace found here, I remember that wish and thank the universe for giving me that ONE NEXT TIME to take it all in.
Those of you who are reading this, I need your help and support and will beg you for it. I need to increase my readership as I have just completed a manuscript that I am hoping will get published. A blog with lots of followers will help in that endeavor, so I will keep asking for your help to 'spread the blogword' for me.
I am currently living in the most beautiful apartment in Menaggio, a feat which took 20+ years to find and get. It is filled with tall arched windows overlooking the lake with 180 degree views.... and three grand terraces, bringing the indoors to me. The scent of jasmine is everywhere and wafts through my home. I am in a piece of heaven.
Two young twenty-somethings arrived from Switzerland yesterday. The eldest daughter of friends of mine, it is such a pleasure to see a sweet charming young woman, after knowing her as a baby. I met her dad when he was 19 ( he is now well into his 50's) when I was escorting groups of high school students through Europe. He was a local guide, and we have been friends ever since. He is tall and thin and married a great gal who is also tall and thin. They live in a tall and skinny home in Basel and had 3 tall and skinny kids. They are my TALL and SKINNY family. I have always gravitated to young adults and they are the second group that I have gotten to welcome this summer. I attribute it to my short attention span, that I get along with the 'youngins'.
More tomorrow and later today, gator. Happy day to you.
Smiles, as always
Judy
Recognizing that I must get over that hurdle, and put it out in the universe that I WANT TO WRITE something which others will value on some level: I will begin again and try not to stumble over my ego.
I am sitting in my kitchen right now on Lago di Como overlooking the lake on this crisp, breezy and sunny day. Bellagio sits in front of my view and takes my breath away, as always. The first time I had ever spent a summer here more than two decades ago, I sat on this very expansive terrace overlooking the bounty and beauty which is Lake Como. I remember thinking and saying "If I ever get the chance to return to this lake- at least ONE MORE TIME in my life, my heart and soul will be filled!" Remembering that wish, each time I arrive on the lake and my heart swells with immense appreciation for the incredible beauty and grace found here, I remember that wish and thank the universe for giving me that ONE NEXT TIME to take it all in.
Those of you who are reading this, I need your help and support and will beg you for it. I need to increase my readership as I have just completed a manuscript that I am hoping will get published. A blog with lots of followers will help in that endeavor, so I will keep asking for your help to 'spread the blogword' for me.
I am currently living in the most beautiful apartment in Menaggio, a feat which took 20+ years to find and get. It is filled with tall arched windows overlooking the lake with 180 degree views.... and three grand terraces, bringing the indoors to me. The scent of jasmine is everywhere and wafts through my home. I am in a piece of heaven.
Two young twenty-somethings arrived from Switzerland yesterday. The eldest daughter of friends of mine, it is such a pleasure to see a sweet charming young woman, after knowing her as a baby. I met her dad when he was 19 ( he is now well into his 50's) when I was escorting groups of high school students through Europe. He was a local guide, and we have been friends ever since. He is tall and thin and married a great gal who is also tall and thin. They live in a tall and skinny home in Basel and had 3 tall and skinny kids. They are my TALL and SKINNY family. I have always gravitated to young adults and they are the second group that I have gotten to welcome this summer. I attribute it to my short attention span, that I get along with the 'youngins'.
More tomorrow and later today, gator. Happy day to you.
Smiles, as always
Judy
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Uneventful moments that change our lives
I got an email from an old rugby buddy of George V in the old days (1970's) of Washington DC and Club SudAmericana. I didn't know this buddy of his as I met George afterward. But I remembered his name, the stories that George would spin.... and the rowdy and oftentimes naughty Rugby tunes.
The gent lives in New Zealand and is contemplating a return to the good 'ol USA. Another rugby buddy of theirs also lives here. And he asked me how I liked living in Sarasota.
In response to his question, I thought about my decision to live here.
I had always thought I would spend a year here before heading back to the Northeast where I grew up and went to college. I woke up one morning and the sun was shining brightly. And I realized that for an entire year, I had awakened to the sunshine... and it was like the heavens and Gods sang to me each day "Good morning to you, Good morning to you, We're all in our playsuits with bright shiney faces.... Good morning to you!" When I realized just how magical a way that is to live one's life: with light- I knew I was home, and felt lucky. I sort of backed into the decision to remain here.
George was more purposeful in his decision to live here. His small moment of epiphany came while walking the beach one day. He spotted a little old man, hunched over .... slowly meandering down the beach, and he thought "I am not waiting till I am 89 to live where I want and how I want." It was as lickety split as that. How wonderful that he didn't have to wait till 89 to seize his dream, because it may never have happened.
The gent lives in New Zealand and is contemplating a return to the good 'ol USA. Another rugby buddy of theirs also lives here. And he asked me how I liked living in Sarasota.
In response to his question, I thought about my decision to live here.
I had always thought I would spend a year here before heading back to the Northeast where I grew up and went to college. I woke up one morning and the sun was shining brightly. And I realized that for an entire year, I had awakened to the sunshine... and it was like the heavens and Gods sang to me each day "Good morning to you, Good morning to you, We're all in our playsuits with bright shiney faces.... Good morning to you!" When I realized just how magical a way that is to live one's life: with light- I knew I was home, and felt lucky. I sort of backed into the decision to remain here.
George was more purposeful in his decision to live here. His small moment of epiphany came while walking the beach one day. He spotted a little old man, hunched over .... slowly meandering down the beach, and he thought "I am not waiting till I am 89 to live where I want and how I want." It was as lickety split as that. How wonderful that he didn't have to wait till 89 to seize his dream, because it may never have happened.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
A reflective week-end
It is unusual for me to go to a funeral and leave the service feeling somehow 'fortified'.
The church was packed. A beautiful building, with inspiring glass windows made by Thornton Utz along with an original and moving crucifix looming overhead made me receptive and open. It is such a tragic and devastating occasion in life when an 18 year old girl dies. It is life at its most raw. It is impossible to be a mother and not feel the pain through your own heart, as it takes a village to raise a child.... and in that sense, everyone's child is our child. The heaviness is palpable. Still.
What raised my heart and inspires me today- was listening to the mother's letter she wrote to her teenage daughter a year ago. A grieving mom, stood before hundreds and with grace and love, baring her soul, and being vulnerable in reading the deep and personal correspondence. She reached out to her daughter then, with a mother's love which was so beautifully written and then in church: spoken.
What I have learned in life.... is to ALWAYS share all those positive and wonderful and loving things we feel about each other: with EACH OTHER. Our children, our friends.... even the acquaintances we meet through the day. That is a gift we give to others and to ourselves. I always say to myself "if I think a complimentary thought about someone- stranger or not: it does me no good to have those thoughts, unless they are shared with the person they are directed towards."
In this instance, at least the mom can always live with the certainty that she told her daughter what an amazing young woman she was. What a gift for all, including those of us in the church.
Afterward, my friend and I went to see the "IMAGINE" exhibit of John Lennon's drawings and lyrics. It seemed a parallel kind of expression: of life, of creativity and of the theme of love. It struck me and intrigued me that creative people are creative is a multitude of ways: creativity comes from the pores and in various forms.
What a difference a week makes. A week ago, that beautiful 18 year old girl was alive and vibrant.
Carpe Diem. Seize the day.
The church was packed. A beautiful building, with inspiring glass windows made by Thornton Utz along with an original and moving crucifix looming overhead made me receptive and open. It is such a tragic and devastating occasion in life when an 18 year old girl dies. It is life at its most raw. It is impossible to be a mother and not feel the pain through your own heart, as it takes a village to raise a child.... and in that sense, everyone's child is our child. The heaviness is palpable. Still.
What raised my heart and inspires me today- was listening to the mother's letter she wrote to her teenage daughter a year ago. A grieving mom, stood before hundreds and with grace and love, baring her soul, and being vulnerable in reading the deep and personal correspondence. She reached out to her daughter then, with a mother's love which was so beautifully written and then in church: spoken.
What I have learned in life.... is to ALWAYS share all those positive and wonderful and loving things we feel about each other: with EACH OTHER. Our children, our friends.... even the acquaintances we meet through the day. That is a gift we give to others and to ourselves. I always say to myself "if I think a complimentary thought about someone- stranger or not: it does me no good to have those thoughts, unless they are shared with the person they are directed towards."
In this instance, at least the mom can always live with the certainty that she told her daughter what an amazing young woman she was. What a gift for all, including those of us in the church.
Afterward, my friend and I went to see the "IMAGINE" exhibit of John Lennon's drawings and lyrics. It seemed a parallel kind of expression: of life, of creativity and of the theme of love. It struck me and intrigued me that creative people are creative is a multitude of ways: creativity comes from the pores and in various forms.
What a difference a week makes. A week ago, that beautiful 18 year old girl was alive and vibrant.
Carpe Diem. Seize the day.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Breezy, easy Sarasota day
I have hesitated writing, much like I hesitate getting on my yoga mat. It is an interior struggle between being productive and not being able to take that first step. It is amazing how much we get in our own way....
As I write this, I hear little Pip-squeaks as he is playing in the pool- carefree, naked and filled will all the potential that each day brings to us. It is the sound of pure joy. That is truly one of the beautiful parts about our life experience: we get to create each day- NEW. We get the opportunity to have squeaks of joy. If we don't get in our own way, that is.
I am feeling particularly philosophical today. The eldest daughter of a gal friend of mine died yesterday. A beautiful young woman- of 19 or so. Tormented without the coping skills to survive her hurdle. How many times have I thought to myself: "There, but for the grace of God, go I." How many times I have put myself in a position that had someone wanted to: they could have harmed me. And, after 6 decades, I could also say: How many times have I put myself in a position that I could have harmed myself? It sometimes takes only a smidge.... in life, to make that difference.
My heart aches for her mom. And her sisters. For her. And for all those whose life she has touched- just by being in it- and then vanishing too soon.
Years ago when my Georgie was only a year old, I went to the funeral for the daughter of friends. She too, was a beautiful young woman, aged 19. She was killed driving home from college for summer holiday. I remember sitting in the church that day, hearing what was to be a profound and life-changing question raised. The minister, who was also a cousin of the parents, asked: "Would you rather have known the joy of this young lady for 19 years, and also know the pain of losing her?" OR.... "Would you sacrifice that pain by sacrificing ever having known her?" The answer is simple. To love- even for a day is a gift. To have that gift each and every day afterward- is the GIFT. Our kids are lent to us, and however much time we have- is the GIFT. Being aware of that concept on how to look at life- has carried me and lifted me when most needed. I have never- had to face the loss of a child. And, that is untenable to my heart, as it strikes horror in the heart of all moms. So, I know that her mom and her sisters' journey will be a hard one, and for that I am heartsick.
As I write this, I hear little Pip-squeaks as he is playing in the pool- carefree, naked and filled will all the potential that each day brings to us. It is the sound of pure joy. That is truly one of the beautiful parts about our life experience: we get to create each day- NEW. We get the opportunity to have squeaks of joy. If we don't get in our own way, that is.
I am feeling particularly philosophical today. The eldest daughter of a gal friend of mine died yesterday. A beautiful young woman- of 19 or so. Tormented without the coping skills to survive her hurdle. How many times have I thought to myself: "There, but for the grace of God, go I." How many times I have put myself in a position that had someone wanted to: they could have harmed me. And, after 6 decades, I could also say: How many times have I put myself in a position that I could have harmed myself? It sometimes takes only a smidge.... in life, to make that difference.
My heart aches for her mom. And her sisters. For her. And for all those whose life she has touched- just by being in it- and then vanishing too soon.
Years ago when my Georgie was only a year old, I went to the funeral for the daughter of friends. She too, was a beautiful young woman, aged 19. She was killed driving home from college for summer holiday. I remember sitting in the church that day, hearing what was to be a profound and life-changing question raised. The minister, who was also a cousin of the parents, asked: "Would you rather have known the joy of this young lady for 19 years, and also know the pain of losing her?" OR.... "Would you sacrifice that pain by sacrificing ever having known her?" The answer is simple. To love- even for a day is a gift. To have that gift each and every day afterward- is the GIFT. Our kids are lent to us, and however much time we have- is the GIFT. Being aware of that concept on how to look at life- has carried me and lifted me when most needed. I have never- had to face the loss of a child. And, that is untenable to my heart, as it strikes horror in the heart of all moms. So, I know that her mom and her sisters' journey will be a hard one, and for that I am heartsick.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Jovedi
That's Thursday, in Italian. Having just come from a grand Italian repast alla bona fide Italian transplants- chowing down on spaghetti vongole... pronounced "vohn goh lay". Much more musical than "clams"
Started my day helping a friend get her home 'ready' to welcome 500 guests on a HOME TOUR for charity. Well, I didn't get it exactly 'ready', as that implies work. I walked through and pointed out all the 'distractions' to her home and decor that needed to go away. Like... multitudes of shampoos in the shower, for instance, dusty candles: the stuff of life, not home tours. In my frenzy of help, I grabbed a vase with beautiful stargazer lilies to change the water. Turning abruptly, I walked the vase right into a column, shattering the glass and water everywhere, including smudging my brandy new white blouse with the orange staining stemon (sp?) I couldn't have been less helpful, and less ready to greet the president of one of my alma matter colleges for lunch! I was a whirlwind of truly dorky energy.
Sandwiched between the beginning and the end: was my luncheon. I went to an all woman's college: so all the guests were women, except one. I love it. There was one husband. The token man. A man with an adorable wife, who you just KNOW, was a spitfire as a young woman- because that sparkle and spunk is still with her. It is inspiring. I am 60, and I was the 3rd youngest gal there! I have been going to these alumnae gatherings for 40+ years.
I can't wait for Friday's adventure.
smiles,
Judy
Started my day helping a friend get her home 'ready' to welcome 500 guests on a HOME TOUR for charity. Well, I didn't get it exactly 'ready', as that implies work. I walked through and pointed out all the 'distractions' to her home and decor that needed to go away. Like... multitudes of shampoos in the shower, for instance, dusty candles: the stuff of life, not home tours. In my frenzy of help, I grabbed a vase with beautiful stargazer lilies to change the water. Turning abruptly, I walked the vase right into a column, shattering the glass and water everywhere, including smudging my brandy new white blouse with the orange staining stemon (sp?) I couldn't have been less helpful, and less ready to greet the president of one of my alma matter colleges for lunch! I was a whirlwind of truly dorky energy.
Sandwiched between the beginning and the end: was my luncheon. I went to an all woman's college: so all the guests were women, except one. I love it. There was one husband. The token man. A man with an adorable wife, who you just KNOW, was a spitfire as a young woman- because that sparkle and spunk is still with her. It is inspiring. I am 60, and I was the 3rd youngest gal there! I have been going to these alumnae gatherings for 40+ years.
I can't wait for Friday's adventure.
smiles,
Judy
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Back in the Blogsaddle, again
I am trying to acclimate myself into writing every day. Like learning how to put flossing into my daily routine or having an old dog do new tricks. Despite the fact that I can be a slow learner, I will forge ahead with a tenacity that seems more like timidity to me, at times. And, this whole 'new age' blogging thing feels rather self indulgent. Or self important. I am uncomfortable with both those ideas, which makes me feel a bit NY neurotic- as that is the entire point of a Blog: to draw attention to an asset that I want to peddle.
I am inviting you into my world of story telling. And, will go about my blog with the same voice that chirps at me on a daily basis. Hope you enjoy.
Have a Wednesday of wonder.
Judy
I am inviting you into my world of story telling. And, will go about my blog with the same voice that chirps at me on a daily basis. Hope you enjoy.
Have a Wednesday of wonder.
Judy
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