Showing posts with label these are the things I think about. Show all posts
Showing posts with label these are the things I think about. Show all posts

Friday, May 15

There's Something Happening Here

It's walk-down-memory-lane time at this blog. As we prepare for another trans-atlantic move, this blogger is reminiscing about the first days and months here in her host country. As a reader, you are along for the ride. The posts which follow are the original entries on this site, which in turn were yanked from emails and notes home when we first arrived. Things have changed a bit since that first year, it would be fairest to say, we've changed a bit.

All for all, it's been a great ride to be an expat. I am glad we were here.

~jenn

Wednesday, April 15

Adapting

*writing date: 30 August 2005*

This is what strikes me and rings true.
As I meet other ex-pats from around the world
we compare notes
and I realize that there are as many ways of adapting to change
as there are people who face change.
I have discovered a commonality in this international community:
we miss our old homes,
we miss our friends
we miss our families
and we miss our home country.
But we are each determined
to make a go of it in a new place,
learning a new language,
adapting to a new culture,
and making connections with people.
When you know others are out there
who are nothing at all like you,
but who feel exactly like you,
it helps.

Wednesday, April 1

Back at ya, baby

Photobucket

What are the words Wednesday?

USA here we come.



Friday, February 27

Showers of Blessing



Lingering shower
Rivulets of water roll
steam rising upward

Water for good health
running warm o'er head, skin, heart
Washing tears away

Thoughts never ceasing
but quiet and quieter
while the water flows

Sunday, February 22

Thought Harvest

My dear readers, friends, and lurkers,

I need your help. In recent weeks/months I have received numerous emails in regard to moving, working and living in The Netherlands. And while I am glad to answer any and all queries which come to my inbox I have been thinking a couple of things here.
First, I am behind in getting some of these questions answered.
(That for the sole reason that I am a lazy correspondent and for all my time spent on the computer, not all of it is *ahem* productive time on the computer. So I am late to reply in some instances.)

Second, while I am happy to wax poetic about most any subject, I recognize fully that my take and perspective on this/these particular subject(s) is limited to my personal experiences. Those experiences may not be universal. And it is just ever so possible that my attitude about things is also not the same for every ex-pat or transplant to the continent.

So, to make my point clear here, what I need is a little help from you my friends, my readers and my lurkers. (I know who you are. Okay, not really true, but I do wish I knew who you were as I am relatively certain your presence adds meaning and substance to my blogging life and well, we should know each other better)

What I propose is this. In true kill-two-birds-with-one-stone logic, I would like to answer the email queries by post here at this blog for these kind strangers who have so kindly asked for my input. What I would like then to add to the story of how it goes for me to live, work and adapt to life in The Netherlands (huh, like I haven't told THAT story a thousand times before...) is the story of how it goes for you. You meaning the collective you who read here and live here too. I am appealing to all those who live in the lowlands or any of the neighboring countries.

What I am hoping to offer the kind strangers is a gathering of other kind blogging strangers who can shed some light, share their perspective, give encouragement, fill in the blanks, inspire, deter, or generally answer the questions others have of those of us who have been there, done that.

My post would read something like this:

Jenn goes blah-blah-blah about her life for awhile, attempts to make people laugh, and answers a few questions along the way.
Then, Jenn LINKS to you and suggests (nay, commands) that readers go take a gander at what you have to say and/or contact you directly to get the info they need. Toch?

If you are willing to help me out here, please can you send an email to me at aeinoyou AT yahoo DOT com and leave me either an email address (which I will encrypt) or a blog url (which I will link) to share with the question askers when I post. Your shared stories, experiences and perspective will be meaningful to all, of that I am certain.

Thank you to all of you in my blogging world (lurking and otherwise) for making my life so rich. Thank you for helping me share that wealth.

Warmly,

Jenn in Holland

Tuesday, February 17

Stepping Down

I have commented before on the nature of a Dutch house. The fact that land and space are in short supply and large demand in the lowlands produced and produces a country where skinny and tall is the norm. Second fact on that matter is that the Dutch physique itself fits that same description, but that friends, is commentary for another time.

Let's talk architecture.

Our home sits on a street of homes which look just like ours. Not only does our house resemble every other house on the block, we also share walls on 2 sides with neighbors. Who share walls on 2 sides with their neighbors. Who share walls on two sides with their neighbors. And so on, and so on, and so on. I know you have the picture in your head but just to illuminate, I shall show you. It looks like this:



On the inside our houses diverge from one another, not just in matter of decor but also by means of alteration and remodeling which most if not all the homes on this street have gone through (or are in the midst of even as I type these words). So where my neighbor a few doors down (count that, it's like 6 walls over) has knocked down a wall to make way for a less ship's-gallery-like kitchen, the owners of our home have left narrow kitchen in place but opted for a second (oh! the luxury!) bathroom on the first floor.



The variations are endless I suppose, but the one place where no alteration is possible and no alternative available is the staircases.




I tell you now, my dear readers and friends, Dutch stairs are a wonder to behold. Narrow, steep and windy are adjectives which fit but only for lack of better, wilder, more apt terms to describe the narrow, steep, windy things.

When we first moved to Holland, our youngest, Andrew, was just 2 years old. The sight of the steep, narrow, windy stairs in our first home in Leiden was enough to make me throw up in my mouth just a little. Steep. Steep. Steep. Oh, shit. Teaching him to ascend and descend with care and caution was the first item of adjusting to Dutch living on my list. Andrew quickly mastered the mostly crawl on the way up and the bum-slide-bump on the way back down. And while he tumbled down those steps at least once, he is not the family member who holds the record for most stair mishaps.

No, that would be me.

After our first year in Leiden, we gathered our things and moved to The Hague (but not before moving all of our accumulated THINGS to a friend's home while we transitioned, and hauled all of those possessions up TWO sets of steep, narrow, windy stairs to the second floor of her home). Our house hunt in The Hague consisted of one single element for me. On sight of stairs alone I chose a house. Well, almost.

Nearly impossible (especially as a family of five) to find a place to live WITHOUT stairs, I adjusted my standards and the OKAY TO MOVE IN list included places that at least had a hand rail next to steep, narrow and windy. Staircases which literally resembled ladders were out. Definitively.

So, we chose a home which, yes, has stairs. But steep, narrow and windy as they are, they are captured between 2 walls and sport a handrail for nearly the entire run.

Still, I've managed to fall down them more often than any other. Which is what I did just now as I was heading to check my e-mail. Thus, the birth of this post.

I think it's time I adopt the bum-slide-bump.

Monday, February 16

Opening to Speak

Funny Valentine
Perhaps my fav'rite love song
For now and ever

Sinatra sang it
Ella, Chaka, Barbra too
(zillions of others!)

"Looks are laughable
and unphotographable"
Surely, strange love words

"But don't change a hair~
Stay little valentine stay"
Stunning sentiment

With ev'ry clear note
I hear love and devotion;
lifetime commitment

Captured by the thought
Of each day for Valentine
A forever love



SMID's Music Monday

Music Monday hosted by SMID


Friday, February 6

So Far Away


contemplating this:
time; distance; friends; connections
and furthermore, love.



Friday, January 30

Chasing Cheerful

Attempting to find
the ideal five syllables
to end a haiku

Wondering whether
Making the point with one word
counts as poetry

Here's what I'm thinking
I truly do like people
but they disappoint

Selfishness seeps in
overrides altruism
Some take without give

As a big giver
I must admit exhaustion
regarding assholes takers

Sincerely I wish
a world full of giving hearts
as the way of life

You'll join me, won't you?
A loving utopia--
Idealistic dream

Goodbye to grumpy!
Farewell to selfish! No more
curmudgeonliness!





Haiku Friday

Tuesday, January 27

Something in the Way

Thinking about things on Tuesday
Photograph by 1 Picture a Day

Sunday, January 18

The Things You Do for Love

I should be working. Really, I should. There is lots to be done and the hours to do it are drifting away. Instead, though, I am wandering the house, the internet, and my own imagination.
Blame it on the random spotted sleep I have had the last 2 nights. Poor Andrew has been sick and between bouts of vomiting we've been doing a lot of cuddling. And in the end, at his recovery, I am feeling the shell-shock of not sleeping. Mostly that is manifesting in this can't-focus-on-nothin'-state of mind which I confessed to when I started this paragraph.

Reader warning: If you are looking for coherency and succinct point in your blog reading today, move along. I just don't think that will be happening here.

I've been thinking. About lots of things really, but mostly about fear. The way it manifests, the way it underscores, overrides and dictates action. Perhaps I should insert CAN into that sentence. The way fear CAN manifest, underscore, override and dicate actions. My actions for sure. I am assuming here this is a universal experience and others have the same feeling. (You'll have to report in the comments section and tell me if it's so.)

Franklin D. Roosevelt (First inaugural address):The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.


What is on my list?
Fear of the unknown.
Fear of what people think.
Fear of trying something new.
Fear of leaving something behind.

Hoshang N. Akhtar: An intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex,and more violent. It takes a touch of genius - and a lot of courage - to move in the opposite direction.



Depending on the moment I am considering some or all of those generalized categories where fear can grip, my response is typical:
RUN
or
FIGHT.

And I will admit here to being more of a fighter than a runner. Or I have learned to be in recent years. Truth be told, I am a talker and I can talk the fear into nothingness, by simply talking it to death. I am good at that.

Thomas Jefferson: There is not a truth existing which I fear or would wish unknown to the whole world.



What I am considering though is less about conquering fear as it is learning to just live with it. It's ever present isn't it? At least in the generalized sense. There is always something to fear, whether it is rational or otherwise. So, the question I am (not entirely lucidly) focusing on is: Why fear fear, anyway?
Myriad others have thought about this too I am sure, and have quipped famous lines denoting their rather profound and poetic thoughts regarding fear. I don't have any of those to offer here.

I am just thinking.

Living with fear without feeling the need to avoid it nor conquer it. It seems doable, doesn't it?

Japanese proverb: Fear is only as deep as the mind allows


Alternatively, one could just eat ice cream. To hell with the examined life.

Thursday, January 1

Inspiration

The beginning of a new year.

Whether you are one who uses its dawning to clear the slate and set resolutions for the coming days and weeks or not, there is something kind of enticing about this first day of January. Something a bit precious. And special. And, yeah, new.

Like if you don't wiggle, you may just get the shot.

I am one of those who sets goals and contemplates the way this year can be better than the last.
I am also one of those who sees the forward momentum of life and understands (albeit intermittently) that life happens in spite of the plans you make... but I do like to spend the time around the new year contemplating my navel the things I can do to affect positive changes toward better ends as a person, a mother, a wife and a friend.

So far my list includes:
Drink coffee in bed first thing in the morning.
Lounge in jammies.
Read an excellent novel.
Take a new year's day nap.

I am thrilled to report that I am off to an excellent start this year. Your suggestions for furthering the betterment of my person are welcomed in the comments section.

Happy New Year everyone.


Photobucket



New Year changes at the photo site.

Whether you've noticed or not (you do visit, right?) Allison and I share a photoblog and post in a rhythm of her turn, my turn throughout the year. This year, (yes, the NEW year) I will be posting on the ODD numbered days. What that means for you is that TODAY, being the FIRST, is the FIRST day of the new arrangement. Yup, me = ODD. Seems fitting, no?

Thursday, November 13

The Gathering

I find myself involved in a project.

This happens to me a lot. Possibly because of my propensity to say "yes" to things people ask me to do, and my utter inability to say "no" I am involved this weekend with something kinda big and super cool. It's a youth conference for kids (age 14-18) from all over the continent who are coming to The Hague to spend some time bonding, exploring and getting their god-stuff on. What draws me to the project, other than the above mentioned reason, is the magnetic pull of hanging out with kids for a weekend. Good kids who are intending to do good things. That kind of energy I really can't pass up.

Among other things for this weekend conference, I have been asked to teach a drama workshop for the participants. I am, obviously, thrilled about the opportunity to get some teaching time in and I am looking forward to it with great enthusiasm. (I only hope theirs matches mine!)
Without divulging the game plan (it might bore you anyway) the ultimate message of my hour of dramatic play is the idea that we are all connected. Deeply, thoroughly, fully. Whether we know it or not, feel it or not, we each are part of something bigger than us (interpret this as you please) and we need each other.

That's the way I say it (and see it), this is what the bible says about the same:

"Instead... we will grow up completely and become one ...the whole body united and held together by every ligament with which it is supplied. As each individual part does its job, the body builds itself up in love."

And, follow me here, developing the idea further, His Holiness the Dalai Lama says:

"The need for love lies at the very foundation of human existence. It results from the profound interdependence we all share with one another. However capable and skillful an individual may be, left alone, he or she will not survive. However vigorous and independent one may feel during the most prosperous periods of life, when one is sick or very young or very old, one must depend on the support of others.
It is because our own human existence is so dependent on the help of others that our need for love lies at the very foundation of our existence. Therefore we need a genuine sense of responsibility and a sincere concern for the welfare of others."

There it is, my philosophy in its simplest, purest form. We are connected, you and I. And we are here for each other. And the message is love.

Now, let's go get some drama on.

Thursday, November 6

Sweet Memory

If you follow my blog with any frequency, you will remember that recently I lost a very dear friend, who days before she passed, lost her first child as well. To say that the situation is surreal is to understate it grandly. To say that one doesn't bounce quickly from that level of grief is to sum it up correctly.


There is not a day that passes that I don't think of Jessica.


In the immediate days following her death, I felt the need to do something to mark her passing. Something that would help keep her memory close.


Upon the inspiration from Allison of Soccer Mom in Denial, I thought perhaps a piece of jewelry might be fitting. From there I contacted Crystal who, along with her mother, runs the business TWO BELLES AND A BEAD, and whom I have turned to in the past to create lovely pieces for others in my life. This time it would be my turn. With Crystal's guidance and artistic eye, using my awkward descriptions via email, we created together a remembrance piece.
Then she created 2 necklaces, one for Jessica's mother and one for me.



So I can carry her close to my heart.



As I told her mom in the accompanying letter with the gift, the design of this piece was purposeful in design and intention. The pink crystal represents Jessica herself (for all the metophorical reasons you can imagine) and the star which hangs there with her represents her son Jason. The two are together, surrounded by love, and collectively is the poetic vision of where I believe she is now, dancing with her baby among the stars.


I love this piece. And I love my friend.


If you do nothing else today, do this:
Tell someone how much you love them.

Tuesday, November 4

Sunday, November 2

Decided (and Determined)



For the record, my vote is in!
Please, get yours in too.

Saturday, November 1

Undecided

Nablopomo.

my own game
click here for the rules.

If I say something every day will you say something too?



1. soccer mom in denial
2. Flower Child
3. Anneke
4. Goofball
5. Goofball

Powered by... Mister Linky's Magical Widgets.

Wednesday, October 15

Reaction In Action


-Passing 'last hope'
-On the road to 'what next?'
eVeryone here is watching, waiting,
-Expecting. But I would guess mostly hoping.
-Reaching out should be more natural for
-Those of us on the upside of the line. Because it is me and
-You they are watching, waiting, hoping for.

Reach out won't you?
Find an organization here.

Sunday, September 28

In the Still of the Night

There are these stolen moments at the end of the day--assuming that I manage to stay up later than my night owl teenagers--where all the world is quiet.

Really quiet.

The hum of the computer tower is the white noise behind the click-clack of my fingernails on the keyboard. Surprisingly that staccato sound does nothing to disturb the internal hum of calm and consciousness I am streaming now. Distantly, there are thoughts echoing; agenda for the upcoming day, to-do lists and other measure of accomplishments and ways to dissect the time. Relentlessly, those will bubble to the surface soon and define my existence, but for now, in this moment, there is mostly stillness in my world. In the rush of pure thought, which clicks into rhythm, lines up with logic and answers all of life's quandries in split second coherency, I am understanding personified.

Trust me when I tell you, if you could climb into my brain right now, there would be awe.

If I could, I would capture these moments, bottle them and hold them fast. There they would sit on the shelf, proudly displayed, next to my other favorite, very esoteric things. Like that moment just before Andrew falls asleep, his eyelids so heavy it seems he can't manage the sudden weight of his eyelashes. The next breath after they slam closed is heavy, slow and warm.

And like the dawning realization moment when I recognized for the first time that I was looking up into my Ian's eyes, not down at the top of his head. Days of my firstborn as shadow and companion long gone and in his eyes I see the seeds of every bit of independence we've attempted to plant over the years. Harvest feels like it's merely days away.

Moment to moment with my daughter, ever increasing in her beauty, interweaving her own way with patterns of mine. Gestures, phrases, and expressions could be a mirror, but I know that's not me. That's her. And she's on her way to something--some things--very, very good.

And every moment (yes, all of them) with a companion who knows me every inch and still he's here. His very presence echoing the I love you forever message he promised me when we were forever young.

Maudlin moments, sure. But they are mine.

And I am gonna hold them tight.