Friends and family are spread across this world of ours.
Son in San Francisco, then moved to Florida. Daughter in St Louis. Friends in New York and New Orleans.
Mother and sister in Zimbabwe. Mother-in-law in South Africa. Brothers-in-law in Sierra Leone and Ghana. Niece in Spain. Aunt in England. Cousins in Canada and Scotland.
Conferences in Australia, China, France. And so the list goes on.
When an extended family is as far-flung as ours we need those wonderful wings. When you have almost more work commitments than you can cope with, travel time becomes more and more an issue. Can you imagine sailing on a boat to all those places? The time involved would be totally impossible.
So thank goodness for airlines, and particularly for those that fly directly from our small university town.
January 19, 2007
More Reasons to Fly
Why I Fly
I have to, it’s a passion, a need, an obsession. The travel ‘bug’ got me early---at age eight when I went by boat to England with my grandmother. The plane-as-travel-means ‘bug’ got me much later, as in southern Africa at that time air travel was expensive and not common for ordinary people. I only took my first plane trip in my 20s, but from that first thrust of the engines, that feeling of power and speed on my first take-off, I was hooked.
Since then, I fly as a means of getting somewhere, but also for the fun of getting there. I love the smell of jet fuel, the hustle and bustle of airports. There’s such a feeling of expectancy and anticipation and I love to watch people---where are they going, who will they see? And all of them are being moved, are getting there by this wonder on wings.
Each time I fly overseas I’m awed again, at how this machine, this encapsulated space in which I sit, travels high over the clouds and sea, and delivers me to a far destination. I experience a feeling of reverence when we fly over land during the daylight hours too---huge mountain ranges spread out like folded rugs below us, patterns of lakes and forests, a river glinting like a long silver snake, or sand in the desert rippling out. We can see this earth of ours from above, as the angels would if they could peek down. It gives a new appreciation of what a wonderful place it is, a masterpiece of diversity, which is entirely different from seeing it from the windows of a clacking train, or from a car speeding along a highway.
At home, I hear a plane fly over and that familiar restless urge begins---I need, I want to be in a plane going somewhere, anywhere, and flying over other people’s houses. They might look up and wonder where I am going, but the destination isn’t the most important thing. The going is.
May 16, 2006
Food for Thought, and Thoughts of Food
Musings:
These ideas are both true, we can’t really separate them out, although the former can be non-food related. Perhaps that’s food for the soul, which is just as important sometimes for a person as the physical, edible type.
So, as some things nourish my spirit, psyche, soul, emotional strength---whatever you want to call it---so do others nourish my body.
Sometimes they may connect, come together, therefore being more fulfilling---doing double duty, as it were. Where? This will be very personal and individual, as everyone is inspired by different things.
On a practical level, Food For Thought (1) = studying, learning about food preparation in other countries and cultures; about different foods, fruits and vegs; the history of food preparation and how technology has helped/hindered; attitudes to food (organic, fresh v. commercial, fast food etc; food just to survive v. a pleasure in life). It’s at this point, when we speak of pleasure, that 1 & 2 interconnect, I think. Do I think about lunch because I’m hungry, or because I eagerly anticipate the pleasure? Is eating (lunch) just a means to an end (“Well, you must eat or you’ll be hungry, can’t work well etc”), or part of the end---to be nourished both physically and spiritually. If I enjoy my lunch, both the food/ingredients/preparation, and the setting/companion, do I gain more?
On another level, Food For Thought (1) = whatever gets me thinking about the world, pondering its workings, and mysteries, learning its histories and cultures.
Slow Driving Reveals the Unexpected
But, if you have the time (and the will) to truly look, you’ll see details, and be able to pick out what’s beautiful here. It’s a subdued, understated beauty, but on that day my eyes were opened. Our maximum speed for quite a while was about 30 mph and I became aware of the clear blue sky, and how big the sky is here, how clean and clear it is, how far away the horizon is. We don’t see the sky like this in many other places, unobstructed by buildings, mountains, hills even. Red-tailed hawks swooped, or sat uncaring on fence posts, and I never realized red-wing blackbirds were so common here! Grasses waved next to the highway, the verges liberally sprinkled with wild flowers---patches, of white, purple, blue or orange.
So, I was filled with wonder at this new view of the countryside, at the realization that if I stop and open my eyes and senses, something unexpected will be revealed to me.
I think we can try this in life too: “Drive” slowly through whatever you’re doing and look around. I think we may all be surprised at what we see and experience.
You Have to Learn the Universal Language
We have a light lunch in a small café called ‘1900’ on Place d’Espagne (close to the lovely Romanesque Basilique Notre-Dame-du-Port) in Clermont-Ferrand. It’s Wednesday, a no-school day, and we are served by a young boy, about 13 years old---perhaps the owner’s son---who was very friendly and sweet. Joanna was charmed! We heard him speak to the father, a little worried that we were ‘anglais’, but luckily we have enough French. We ordered tea and crepes (ham, and sugar with chocolate and nutella). Each of us got a delightful teapot, shaped like some animal, which we hold by the nose or trunk. It fits into a large cup underneath, making a large, round whole
Interesting, when Kev made the ‘universal sign’ for “please bring the bill” (writing motion on your hand), the boy didn’t understand, and he brought Kev a small notepad and a pencil for Kev to write with. We had to smile and say verbally, “non, l’addition”.
November 08, 2005
Mayan Temple Encounter
The second afternoon at the site we just wandered around, absorbing more of the mystique and magic of the place. I (in spite of a fear of heights) managed to climb up the steps to the big temple in the Cross Complex, and there is a wonderful view out (as Kev and Rod said yesterday).
Rod wanted to sit on a ledge at the top, to contemplate the site, the jungle, the world. There he met another meditator on the ledge around the corner: an aging hippy guy from Canada, long hair tied back. He greeted Rod with, “Welcome to my office”. Lots of chatting, as Rod was fascinated. He doesn’t want to live in Canada or USA now, traveled in Asia for years, and now has ended up here in a kind of commune, where they bake and sell cookies and brownies, dance and sing (hopefully for the tourists).
He told a bit about living in Mexico, and how you can’t own property so near the border. He also told Rod about a woman and a place where you can get mushrooms – imagine that! Rod was actually quite excited about talking to such a different kind of person, and afterwards jokingly called him, “My Hippy Friend”. An interesting, novel experience, which I eavesdropped on from below the ledge
Troubles at Valencay
Valencay is a stunning chateau in the Loire Valley, huge, gorgeous, ornate. The gardens and the estate are also enormous and beautiful. A thick green lawn sweeps across to the forest and down the hill to the vineyards. Brown and white spotted deer graze placidly in a pen, and peacocks strut around, their strange mewling cry following them. We trail one, trying for a really close-up photo, and it’s very obliging.
Now it’s time for tea in the café in the old Orangerie. We plop down on chairs in the sun, ready to order, when Rod says to me, “What’s that on your sandal?” Oh no! The heel of my sandal, my heel, and the bottom of my slacks are covered with an awful brown mess. Thank goodness for the café bathroom, where I spent many, many minutes doing my best with cold water and tissues. Still, the rest of the day I had this lingering feeling of dirt.
July 27, 2005
Slow Driving
I was on my way to Springfield, IL. Lots of road works caused very slow, one-lane driving for many miles. But that was okay. It forced me to almost “stop and smell the roses”. It’s not quite “stop and smell the roses’, but it IS “slow and be able to appreciate the scenery”. Usually, we whiz along the highway, hardly noticing anything. If we do look, here in the Midwest, it’s to see miles and miles of flat land covered in corn and beans in the growing season, interspersed with farmsteads, and to comment again on how flat/boring/monotonous it is.
But, if you have the time (and the will) to truly look, you’ll see details, and be able to pick out what’s beautiful here. It’s a subdued, understated beauty, but on that day my eyes were opened. Our maximum speed for quite a while was about 30 mph and I became aware of the clear blue sky, and how big the sky is here, how clean and clear it is, how far away the horizon is. We don’t see the sky like this in many other places, unobstructed by buildings, mountains, hills even. Red-tailed hawks swooped, or sat uncaring on fence posts, and I never realized red-wing blackbirds were so common here! Grasses waved next to the highway, the verges liberally sprinkled with wild flowers---patches, of white, purple, blue or orange.
So, I was filled with wonder at this new view of the countryside, at the realization that if I stop and open my eyes and senses, something unexpected will be revealed to me.
Try this in life too: “Drive” slowly through whatever you’re doing and look around. I think we may all be surprised at what we see and experience.
May 26, 2005
More Swimming Thoughts
Most days I set myself a goal of 40 laps, or 1km. When we start, that seems like an impossible distance. I swim one lap, then 2, and think “No, I’ll never get to 40, that’s such a huge number”. But, I continue and next thing I’ve done 10, then 20, then 28, and 35. Two things have happened in this process: first, I’ve become very good at fractions, at adding and multiplying. Two laps are 50m, 4 are 100m, which is already 1/10 of what I want to do. Eight laps are 1/5 of what I’m aiming for, and 10 are 250m, which is 1/4km. Wow! And so on.
From actually experiencing this has come the realization that the same is true of life. Many huge, or even supposedly insurmountable, tasks or jobs are really not if you break them down. Do things in blocks, or chunks, of time or tasks and the fractions add up. Before you know it, you’ve actually finished.
May 01, 2005
SWIMMING THOUGHTS
As I swim sedately up and down the lanes---breaststroke only---I ponder many things. Compared to many of the other swimmers churning along with their freestyle stroke I am rather slow, but I keep going gently, and suddenly (it seems)---actually about 50 minutes---I’ve gone more than 1km.
I liken myself to the tortoise in the fable of the Hare and the Tortoise. I keep plodding along---in this case, gently moving in the water---and slowly but steadily rack up the distance. It’s about perseverance rather than speed, the will to finish rather than to win. Which is rather like lots of situations in life: it’s often more important to finish, to do something, than it is to be first, and perhaps doing something so speedily that it’s done sloppily.
