A veces lo barato es lo caro

Sometimes cheap is expensive

I was going from train to train in Spain, because after two months of flitting about in Europe, I was doing what I could to keep off of flights For both my own well-being, and that of the environment.

Never one to travel without snacks and ample amounts of hydration, I had just stopped at a convenience store and loaded up on goods for the next leg of my trip. Which bag did I want? The attendant asked. I looked at everything I had, and the two options, one, notably flimsy than the other, and both costing money. I probably could use this one. I told her appointing to the sturdier option. She agreed. “A veces lo barato es lo caro,” she said, and smiled.

Sometimes what’s cheap is expensive, and not all costs, or benefits, are monetary.

Respect the siesta

Last summer I stayed at an Airbnb in Madrid, one I chose because the apartment building contained an outdoor pool.

There was a laminated instruction manual on the table that detailed all the must know information, including best practices pool usage. Half the building faced the pool, and, it being summer and there being no air conditioning, windows were often open.

The only bolded line on the sheet, front in Spanish, back in English said: Please respect the siesta. Neighbors nap in the afternoon hours, and it was a must that everyone keep noise to a minimum.

The line made me giggle, and I also loved it. Rest is to be respected, in every way—for both ourselves and others.

Respect the siesta. Take yours! And may the leave space and grant understanding for others to take their naps in life, to tap out for rest, too.

Ikigai: On purpose

Ikigai (生き甲斐, lit. 'a reason for being') is a Japanese concept referring to something that gives a person a sense of purpose, a reason for living. (Wikipedia)

I began watching Live to 100: Secrets of the Blue Zones on Netflix with my parents. The first episode takes place in Okinawa, Japan, and the last—and perhaps most lasting—concept introduced as a way to understand and respect the longevity of residents is that of ikigai.

I think we do this very American thing in the U.S. of overcomplicating this quite a bit. We make it tied to profession; we put it in a box of branding; we think we need to pitch it in an elevator and that it is one big, fixed thing. This is my life. This is my purpose.

But, wait: “More generally (ikigai) may refer to something that brings pleasure or fulfilment.[1]” And purpose can change in every moment. Maybe it’s meant to morph.

I’ve been looking forward to find my “purpose” rather than orienting to the here and now, the life being lived. The sunshine gives me purpose; writing this little thing brings pleasure and relationships give me the most beautiful reasons for living.

Ikigai; life on purpose.

Take patience

My flight before New Year’s was delayed, communication about what was happening was unclear, and I was frustrated. I just wanted to be there.

“Take patience,” my boyfriend said to me. Ever sweet, knowing the exact right thing to say, and also a non-native English speaker. I loved this perfect language mistake, because not only did it make me smile, it made me appreciate patience more.

I love the idea of patience as something I can pick up, choose, put on, swallow like a glass of water.

Here—take patience.

"Joy is not to be made a crumb"

I’ve lately been finding, feeling joy in sweet, quotidian, small (“small”) moments. Waking in a comfortable bed. Holding the littlest homegrown strawberry in my hand. Seeing a heavenly summer sunset crack open the sky over Bern, Switzerland. Appreciating a whole tour group in Bruges admire how my dad, the self-made history buff, got every answer the guide posed on our tour, correct, and then some. (Beer was invented in Mesopotamia! Cacao comes from the Aztecs, and did you know they had no sugar, instead using cinnamon to sweeten it?)

It’s been in this time of small joys that a friend shared this perfect Mary Oliver poem, “Don’t Hesitate,” below. Don’t hesitate. Give in to joy.

“Don’t Hesitate” by Mary Oliver

If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate.

Give in to it.

There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be.

We are not wise, and not very often kind.

And much can never be redeemed.

Still, life has some possibility left.

Perhaps this is its way of fighting back,

that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world.

It could be anything,

but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins.

Anyway, that’s often the case.

Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty.

Joy is not made to be a crumb.

Related thoughts I’ve shared:

Joy is a Practicality

The Little Things are the Big Things

Fill it with nothing

The first month to month, and a half of my current leave from work has been a lot of… what do I do now?! The everyday, distractions, timelines and habits, like those associated with a corporate workday have been peeled off, and while it feels liberating and I feel lucky, it’s also a bit confronting. Who am I without this? is sometimes not exciting, or easy, to answer.

While staying solo for a week in Madrid, a city, that I love to even more than I remembered, I talked with a friend, who had had a similar experience, some years prior, taking a few months for herself. She sent me a voice note saying, it is interesting; interesting to see what occupies your mind, and your time, when it’s not that thing, or those prior things. It then becomes an analysis of, what is there? And then a progression to, what do I want? To be filling my mind and my time?

I launched into strategizing and planning and future goalsetting like I would with work, or some thing of the like. And then I stopped myself. Because I think what it’s meant to be, right now, is nothing. Fill it with nothing and let it be. Fill it with nothing, and just see.

what is for certain

I especially liked the “What’s the secret?” question because yesterday when I was wandering around Stockholm, I had the thought, “What’s for certain?” come to mind. It may be because I’d recently seen someone answer the Hinge dating app prompt “I am certain that” by saying, “I will die.” (Swedish humor.) Interestingly, I’ve encountered more professed atheists here on this trip (also mostly via dating apps) than probably my whole prior life. (Is this a European thing?)

anyway, I was thinking about that question and how there’s actually not much I can, or want to, answer about that right now, and how that’s pretty freeing. Because once we have that defined, we’re open to whatever else there is, and whatever else could be, I believe.

What’s for certain?

What’s the secret?

Someone on a dating app just started the conversation with me by asking, “What’s the secret?”

“That life is to be enjoyed.

“That we’re all a bunch of nerds.

“That no one has any idea what they’re doing. (And that’s a beautiful thing.)” Was my response.

What’s the secret?