Clothes Make the Women

“Don’t be into trends. Don’t make fashion own you, but you decide what you are, what you want to express by the way you dress and the way to live.” —Gianni Versace

The other day when reading Joe Dispenza’s book Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself, I had a revelation.  The book explores parts of the Law of Attraction, and aspects of the applicability of Quantum Theory.  I realized I had created my reality.  In 2018, I decided for one year I would only wear clothes that were in the style of Vintage, French, or Spanish.  I did this for the fun of it.  In some ways I was creating a capsule wardrobe but without the formality of it.  It was simply for the joy of it and to explore another facet of my creativity visually.

It wasn’t until 2023 that I realized I created my reality.

I lived one year in France and I currently am living in Spain.  I was a walking vision board, without planning it.  I dressed into my reality.  Upon realizing the power of wardrobe, I realized I was going to do this with intention.  And for this year, my new emphasis will be in the realm of two styles.

  1. Bobo

Bobo-or as the French like to call it Bohemian Bougeouise.  This was coined as a term I heard when I lived in Paris, that represented liberal individuals who were intellectual.  It’s a yuppie world that meets Bohemian. To read about the creation of this years ago, check this article out where it was first discussed https://www.nytimes.com/2000/10/14/news/in-france-a-new-class-reinvents-the-good-life-bobo-style-has-it-both.html

2. Abundance

I am going to exude Abundance in the realm of Hindu goddess Lakshmi (or even the goddess Fortuna).  This includes bright and joyful colors that offer a tropical goddess vibe.  Last month, I attended an energy psychology conference.  A woman complimented me on this outfit I was wearing and said I looked like abundance.  I took the compliment, and now am running with it.  

I may not be dressing into a particular region of the world, but a mindset and philosophy.  Now my focus is turned to crafting my reality.  In addition to offering an outlet for one’s creative display of imagination, it can assist with self-control.  I noticed it assists with discerning one’s purchases when shopping the sales, which at the moment is 50% is more in Malaga.    Having a theme offers something to aspire to, even when we don’t have the motivation or energy to think about our wardrobe.  For me, this was exemplified this past week.  On the most recent extremely hot days I attend Spanish class with no air conditioning, instead of just thinking of what I can wear that I will stay the coolest in, I think “how can I bobo this outfit?”  It serves as an inspiration and effort into my daily life and not just for the big event moments. 

Years ago, when shopping at a vintage store, I tried on a fascinator (fancy hair piece, people wore in the 40’s and 50s).  I said to myself in the mirror, “It’s cute, but I have nowhere special to where it to.”  The lovely store clerk looked at me and said in her 50’s dress, “everyday is special.”  

Yes clothes and our wardrobe seems trivial.  There are so many other things to worry about in our lives and the world.  But with a tiny bit of effort and intention, we can bring into our lives that which we dress.  


“The joy of dressing is an art.” —John Galliano

Always More To See

 WE TRAVEL NOT TO ESCAPE LIFE, BUT FOR LIFE NOT TO ESCAPE US. – ANONYMOUS

There’s a realization recently that my time in Europe may come to an end this year.  I’ve been living overseas for 10 years, 8 ½ in England, 1 in France, and ½ in Spain.  And the inevitable finality of it makes me realize there are things I want to do before I leave.

Immediate bucket lists came in my head:

-A trip to Zurich so I can squeeze in Lichtenstein

-An all out trip to the UAE (and touchdown on 8 territories)

-Flying to Athens so I can pilgrimage to where the Oracle of Delphi was, and hit up two other territories of Cyprus I haven’t been to. 

-Go to Northern Ireland and then explore Jersey

-What about Tunisia and Corsica? 

As an aspiring future member of the Travel Century Club, I want to hit up as many countries as possible.  But there is a realization that all may not be feasible, at least with the remaining moments to have.  I still have friends visiting and a trip planned in several weeks to Italy to explore Lampedusa and San Marino.  

Breathe Tricia.

It’s okay to still have places you want to go or return to in the European vicinity.  You don’t have to do it all now.  I can always come back.  It’s okay if I don’t see everything right now.  Perhaps it’s best to leave when you still desire more. 

Years ago I had a conversation with a fellow psychologist from Ireland at an Adlerian conference in Malta.  At the time, I was in my 20s, she was a decade older than me.  She offered me this advice, “These countries will always be here.  My goal is to travel to one country each year.  If I live until my 80s, that’s still 50 countries.”  This older and wiser woman told me this as I was backpacking Europe, and had visited 15 countries in one summer. It was overwhelming, but exhilarating.

At times like this, when I feel my time in scarce, I need to remind myself that one’s life can be abundant.  I have time.   Why rush when I can luxuriate in the time that remains?

I am unclear of the exact amount of time I have left.  If I can only do Zurich, it’s not just to check off Lichtenstein.  But with research, I have found that closeby I can visit the home of psychoanalyst Carl Jung.  I can pilgrimage to another Black Madonna that is one hour from Zurich, that Jung had written about.  I could have a leisurely lunch in Lucerne. 

I will make most of the time in Europe and will live experiences versus simply checking boxes off a list.  I hope wherever you are reading this, you can experience some time affluence with your summer. 

Back to Spanish Class

“Change your language and you change your thoughts.”
Karl Albrecht

            Last week I enrolled in a month long intensive Spanish course.  Although I have officially moved here nearly six months ago, I have put this off.  While in Paris last year, I took three months of French, and it made me cringe.  I hated starting from scratch, pronouncing everything all wrong, and be corrected constantly.  I didn’t think I would need Spanish here, but I have recognized and accepted that my Spanish was more of a tourist Spanish.   Additionally, Andalucians seem to sometimes speak a different language, with shortening the words or have nicknames for things that did not make sense.  Who knew that mala leche (which is translated to bad milk) equates with having a day where you are pissed off and angry?  If I wanted to improve, it required an intensive.  To commit to this was to commit to a part time job, twenty hours a week, Monday through Friday for four weeks.  But now I could do it.

            And I was pleasantly surprised. 

            It was actually somewhat enjoyable.  I had taken Spanish class in high school, college, and did an immersion in graduate school.  As we went around the room, verbalizing our background with Espanol, I realized it has been over twenty years since I had taken Spanish (Duolingo doesn’t count).  I could have compassion for myself with forgetting some things along the way. 

In the classroom, sat next to me a 14 year old Bosnian girl, living in Sweden. She showed me texts from her boyfriend and teacher, gossiping about her life as if we knew each other for years.  She guessed me to be in my 20s, when I shared I was in 40s, she was stunned. And I was flattered.  The class size generally stayed around 8 people, from other countries such as Morocco, Netherlands, England, and Italy.  Although we were collectively learning Spanish, we were learning about each other.  Our conversational skills were put to the test as we shared our background information, occupation, likes, dislikes, hobbies, and family dynamics.  “Me llamo Tricia.  Me gusta caminar con mi amigo.  Soy americana, pero ahora vivo en Malaga por seis meses…”  This was repeated throughout the week, because with four hour long sessions, the teachers rotated in and out.  We could practice hearing different accents, dialects, and experience various teaching styles. 

            But all were pleasant.  Yes we were corrected at times, but it was with encouragement.  For some reason, my experience with learning the French language is it was tiresome and draining, it probably didn’t help that we wore masks for most of the sessions.  I recall practicing my Spanish with a local here several months ago, who was training to be a language teacher.  He laughed when I pronounced various words, and therefore it shut me down.  Why open oneself to ridicule in the hopes of improving?  A warm encouraging environment is so necessary to offer padding to those learning something new.  If you fall, it’s not so bad.  You are then willing to try again, criticism didn’t knock you down.  At least for me, this is my preferred learning style.  

            And so I am ready to enter week 2 of classes, with more energy, less cringe, and curiosity of what will be revealed next.   As I write this, I am full of appreciation for the teachers out there who have the kind patience in working with their students, and for all students out their who have self-compassion as they learn something new.

World Citizen

I am not an Athenian or a Greek, but a citizen of the world

– Socrates

Yesterday I was having a conversation with a friend about the concept of globalization.  National Geographic defines this as “increasing connectedness and interdependence of world cultures and economies.”  And I would agree, to some extent the world is getting smaller. Post pandemic, all is possible and accessible.   We are connected in this technological fast paced world.  

My recent travels to places such as Bulgaria, Serbia, North Macedona, and Gibraltar reminded me of this concept of globalization.  Many of these countries, I didn’t dream of visiting.  In my youth, I knew I would visit France, England, and Spain, but the Balkans were not on my list.  And yet I was here.  For some reason, I thought I would be one of the few tourists that travelled to this land.  I knew of only a tiny number of friends or family who have visited here.  But what surprised me were there were not only tons of tourists, but also digital nomads.  Our boundaries to where we travel now as Westerners have expanded.  I was particularly surprised by hearing so many American accents.  The Cyrillic language was made easy and translated into English in the city centers for access of non-locals.  Cafes were cutesy and instagrammable.  We don’t have to travel only to Paris to linger in a cute café, we can hop over to Skopje.    

         One evening in Sofia, we shared a dinner with two Italians that were colleagues and were living in Bulgaria.  We decided to sit at one table together, because the strict hostess at a local restaurant would not seat either of our parties of two.  Our attempt earlier that day to get reservations failed.  There were no two tables of two.  But now we could be a party of four, and so we sat with strangers.  When we walked to our table our new friend said, “it’s destiny,” I knew it was meant to be.  She was speaking my universal language of synchronicty and magic.  This woman had already lived in Serbia, Romania, and now Bulgaria.  She was in the textile industry and due to lack of jobs in her country, she sought work in the Balkans.  The European borders were open to her and she was immersed in it for years.  

Several days before this we had a server and consultant at this Creperie in Sofia.  He was Bulgarian, but lived twenty years in America.  We spoke of everything from Yogananda, consumerism, over working, yearning for peacefulness, to modern dating.  As we talked with him for two hours, I realized I had probably more similarities with him than I had with people in my hometown that never left.  

         This past week in Malaga, I hosted an event with Girls Gone International. We were a group of less than ten women, but all of us were from different location.  We were from America, Ukraine, Prague, New Zealand, England, and Australia.  All of us were living in Spain now, but have lived around the world.  The border lines between countries are becoming fainter.  We are more connected than we think. 

         And what I find is that I can connect with the people who have left their hometown to live and venture to other lands.  One has to know there are other ways to live in the world.  We limit ourselves when we think our town is the best one in all the lands and there is no other way to experience the world.  This is small town mentality, whether you are from Massillon Ohio or Malaga Spain.  There are other landscapes to see, exotic food to taste, fascinating people to meet.  You can return home, and have a base but know there is more out there.  The more we travel, we see that we are more the same than different.  There is not one way to be, but simply a way of living we have been born into and socialized to conform to.  

         I would love to offer you the gift of travel.  And it’s not just to see the landmarks that our favorite authors write about or visiting locations we have seen depicted in movies.  It’s not to consume the luxuries of the most exotic spices and textiles.  It’s the experience of interacting with others, and the breaking down of barriers that have been built up in our heads.  Globalization is normalization.  It’s validation of our connection and a reminder we are one.

More the same than different

         Currently I am visiting my 54th country and 64th territory: Bulgaria.  I didn’t know what to expect from this Eastern European location.  But I find, whenever I don’t expect much, I am pleasantly surprised.  Sofia, the capital of Bulgaria, currently caters to the cosmopolitan traveller.  The digital nomad millennial influence has impacted this space, with new cutesy cafes, brunch spots, and instagrammable restaurants popping up throughout the city.  It’s a recognition that many of us are longing to linger in places that are beautiful and welcoming.  The outdoor relaxing cafes are no longer solely reserved for the streets of Paris.  They can exist anywhere, and this includes Bulgaria. Why not?

         What I found truly interesting, was today when my friend Isabella and I, ate breakfast at a local creperie.  One of the staff members chatted with us for at least an hour.  Although Daniel is Bulgarian, he spent the past twenty-two years in America, and recently moved back to Bulgaria for family reasons.  The three of us never embarked on small talk of the weather and “tourist things to do in Sofia.”  We talked of “American” values of overworking to pay for our consumeristic lifestyles.  We explored getting lost in the worlds of what we thought was important to us, and therefore losing our health or time for proper relationships.  Collectively, all three of us intentionally made a shift in how we lived and worked to lead more balanced lives.  We did and are purposefully continuing to do this in different ways.  Although we were born in different countries, we had an American upbringing in our late  teens through thirties.

         Having a conversation like this, in a land I never thought I would visit, is refreshing.  It’s the Law of Attraction.  Like attracts like.   One finds you attract people of similar minds and lifestyles.  It felt “random” that our middle aged Bulgarian server, was drawn to the works of Yogananda and SRF (Self Realization Fellowship).  We bonded in talking initially of this Indian guru who set up shop in California to spread spiritual principles in the world.  All three of us had visited one of his SRF places of worship in California.  Here we were living it, and having a discussion about it in Eastern Europe.  In the end, it doesn’t matter the type of job or title you have or the amount of money you have in your bank account.  What matters is the experiences you choose to have in life, and living in alignment with your values.  These values are not those placed upon you by your culture, family, or media, but those that you fully chose.  But what is required to do all of this is to step outside of your hometown, see parts of the world, and see that we are more alike than different. We must unlearn to learn. 

Space Needed For Integration

         For the past several weeks, I have been travelling non-stop.  It was an intentional trip to my homeland to see friends, attend an energy psychology training, and take care of some personal things.  As usual, it was full.  I visited 5 states in less than three weeks.  Every moment went as well as planned, but it felt as if I was checking things off a list to ensure the process ran smoothly.  Moments of downtime were embraced, as there was few that existed along the way.  

         And this is one of them.  Arrival at the airport.  After checking in, going through security, the bathroom, and having a special treat.  I no longer feel the sweat from the hurried rush of going from one point to another.  My breath has slowed down as I sit at my gate.  I can relax.  Although I am surrounded by others, I am briefly alone.  There’s still so much to process of what has occurred, but simultaneously it is prepping for what is next. I will only have one day in my new home of Malaga, before a several day excursion to another land. Therefore each moment of free time is freedom.  

         I am reminded how often we travel like this.  If we have a regular “job,” we may have limited vacation days.  We fit in so much, that there is little time to integrate.  And this is necessary to see, appreciate, and re-live in the beauty of the trip you just took. 

         Parallel to this, I recently attended a sound healing workshop, where infamous sound healer Jonathan Goldman shared several of his secrets to sound healing.  One was the value of silence.  Silence is where the healing occurs.  Goldman stated “silence is the yin to sound’s yang.”  He gave an example, that if we hum for five minutes, we must leave five minutes of silence for it to integrate into our bodies. We think sound is what heals, but it is sound linked with silence.  They need each other.

         And so as we gear up for our summer travel plans, it’s not just visiting a new land that is important.  It is also taking time after travel to process what occurs.  Perhaps you do this at then end of one’s trip, on arrival home, or journaling on a daily basis in one’s hotel room breaking up what is learned day by day.  

         What will be the yin to your yang? 

Helpers Along the Way

What makes a trip memorable isn’t always the destination one arrives at, but the assistance one receives from strangers along the way.  This was the case for me this past week.  I have been in America for two weeks.  Although I am from America, I haven’t lived here in nearly 10 years.  This trip had many facets to it, and was tightly booked.  I had planned that each component would go according to plan.  Family visits in NYC and Philly, an energy psychology conference in Maryland.  In addition, part of my journey included heading to Arizona to empty out my storage via donations and preparation for shipment to Spain.  Going through one’s belongings of items you have put aside for years is a difficult feat.  It’s physically and psychologically draining.  But I had assistance from some strangers.  

I was lucky enough to have my mom join me for this adventure, and used miles for our flight from Philly to Phoenix.  Because we were using miles, the layover I landed was a 6 hour wait! I reckoned this would be do-able with my annual one day passes to use with United, but when we got to the United Club a sign was posted stating “no one day passes.”  I thought I would risk it, and an exception would be made.  A staff member obliged and offered a simple “why not?”  He let us in.  As we sat in the lounge and grabbed breakfast, I conjured to further chance my luck.  I asked a staff member if we could be bumped to an earlier flight, and she squeezed down our six hour layover to 90 minutes.  She warned us there was a possibility our luggage wouldn’t make it.  But luck continued and our luggage arrived on time.  Travel blessings were abound. With each small level of assistance, I thanked the universe for all the help along the way from these everyday angels.  

After landing in Phoenix, grabbing lunch, we headed straight to work at a storage facility in Tempe.  I had zero plan of where we were going to donate all these belongings and furniture.  Our hybrid rental car was only mid size.  The local Goodwill took all donations, but they did not have the availability pick items up.  I didn’t know how people sold or gave away items anymore.  Craigslist?  Facebook Marketplace?  There wasn’t enough time to list each item and sell it.

But on our first day at the storage facility, a fellow storage neighbor walked by and chatted with us.  My mom offered her a massage chair I was donating.   She responded with a quick and exuberant “yes!”  We informed her, I had numerous other items I would be giving away.  She said she would take all of them, and she did.  Throughout the week, Roberta was there at moments when we needed her.  My mom said in some ways she was like an angel, you asked for her and she was right there in the storage facility ready to pick up an item.  In total we spent 20 hours in three days sorting through this storage, and this would have been even longer if we didn’t have Roberta’s assistance.  

It amazes me how help can be there when you need it, and it comes from the unexpected.  With each person we met and assisted us along the journey, I gave them one of these Gratitude Puzo/Bella Cards.  It’s a small simple way to offer gratitude, but it is tangible and memorable.  I stayed in that positive zone: offering kindness, receiving kindness, offering gratitude.  The cycle continues.  

Life may not always work out as smoothly and seamlessly as this, but sometimes the kindness of strangers may surprise us.  All we have to do is ask, be willing to receive.  And also know that it is our mission as humans to pay that back forward with others, in one way or another. 

Returning to Your Homeland

         I am embarking on a several week trip to America.  It’s my first time going to the states since I moved to Spain, and probably the longest period I haven’t travelled anywhere since the pandemic.  Six months.  I can’t help but wonder, where is home?

         This summer marks ten years that I have lived outside of America, via the United Kingdom, France, and now Spain.  A new friend I met in Europe reminded me that “you are not American, you are a world citizen.”  At first, I wanted to disagree with him.  My upbringing was in America, I have an American accent, my family is there, I own a home there.  Of course I am American, a multiracial American.  But as I got on the plane in Lisbon today (my layover from Malaga), I am surrounded by American accents.  It’s awkward.  I feel I don’t fit in.  Do these people understand me?  Were they just on holiday, taking a dream vacation?  Or  are they like me just visiting America too?  This is my life.  Staff members and passport control are asking how long I have been in Europe.  I respond by pulling out my visa.  Perhaps I am a global citizen.  

         I realize maybe we don’t have to choose.  We are not one or the other.  We can be all.  My friend recently bought a home in Michigan.  We are from the Midwest, and I asked her will she give up her home in New York and totally move to this new home in Michigan.  She doesn’t know.   She too, also feels both are home: East Coast and the Midwest.  You don’t have to choose one or the other.  There is reality you can be both.  It reminds me of my racial identity.  Years ago, when growing up and taking standardized tests, I had to choose my race when filling out the form. I informed the teacher, I wasn’t just one answer.  But there was little cultural sensitivity at the time and in small time Ohio.  She forced me to choose one.  Do I choose how others define me?  Do I change the response each time, letting each parent be represented?  Do I opt out and not answer?  Why must we conform?  

         After ten years of living overseas, and for ten years prior to that living in various parts of America, I realize all parts are me.  An Ohio Cali Hawaiian Philly New York American citizen.  That is okay.  Do not allow others to define you. You have a choice in this.  I am returning to the country I was born in, but now I realize it’s part of me.  Not all of me. 

My Current Life Courses

“Anyone who stops learning is old, whether at twenty or eighty. Anyone who keeps learning stays young.”

―  Henry Ford

This week, I found myself enrolled in 3 courses, facilitating 1, and have paused 1.  No, I’m not a graduate student.  I am a 44 year old female who is transitioning out of my field of being a clinical psychologist and stepping into the unknown world of creating my own path. Although I received my doctorate nearly 20 years ago, I am continuously learning.  I realize in the past my learning was about the attainment of a degree.  I took various classes that would afford me a spot in college, then graduate school, then the right internship.   After getting my license in clinical psychology and having full time employment, it was all about getting certificates in everything from hypnosis, reiki, sound healing, EMDR, executive coaching, labyrinth facilitation, Internal Family Systems, Gottman trained marital therapy, Diversity and Inclusion, 500 hour yoga certificates.  The list goes on, and although I admit initially I did it because my jobs had so much funding in ongoing education and continuing credits, I maxed it out annually.  Today I have no job, and find myself seeking more knowledge. 

But now I have the freedom to choose, without a job paying for it, what am I enrolled in? 

A course about the Black Madonna by Dr. Christena Cleveland.  It’s described as a virtual pilgrimage to explore how the Dark Divine Mother can heal and help us, and how we can view ourselves as sacred.  It’s taught by a female social psychologist and theologian. 

Another course I am getting psychology credit for is Self-Compassion, a class created by Dr. Kristen Neff, a clinical psychologist.  This includes Buddhist and mindfulness principles as a way to make friends and care for ourselves.

In the midst of this, I signed up for a pilgrimage course e-course by Phil Cousineau who is a filmmaker, mythologist, and retreat facilitator.  He previously was mentored by my favorite mythologist Joseph Campbell and therefore this class is focused on how to be intentional with each trip we take and facilitate these types of reflective spiritual inquires when leading others.  

The course I am facilitating, which I seem to do annually, is The Artist Way by Julia Cameron.  This is all about reclaiming our creativity, and although I facilitate it, I also participate in it and the majority of the exercises.   My only class on pause, due to scheduling, is Flamenco , taught by a local Malguena in complete Spanish. 

Black Madonna, Pilgrimage, Compassion, Art, and a tad of Flamenco.  

If I were to capture who I am right now in five classes this would be it.  But the thing is, I am not doing these classes right now to check  them off a list.  I want to embed the lessons in my body.  It’s the integration that takes time.  

What classes in life are you currently enrolled in?  How would you sum up who you are in five classes? 

Lessons on the Path to 44

This week I turn 44.  The older I get, the more intrigued I am of what will arise in my life.  When I was younger, I couldn’t wait to be a teenager, get my driver’s license, legally go to bars.  Then after 21, the zest momentarily dissipated.  I come from a culture in America, where there seems to be a fear of getting older.  Greeting cards exist that are decorated with gravestones on the front. These cards remind the birthday recipient they are “over the hill.”  We are told, it’s all downhill from here.  But I am curious, could the path continue to be uphill or simply another part of the journey?  And so I created a list of lessons on the path to 44.  

This year’s life lessons

  1. The beauty of grief lies in compassion and common humanity
  2. Allow endings to make space for beginnings
  3. Cherish those you love and make time for them
  4. You can always pivot
  5. Recognize and live in gratitude when your dreams become real
  6. Listen to the internal guidance
  7. I’m a forever pilgrim
  8. Struggle is part of the story
  9. Those who have died are still with you
  10. The answer is an open heart
  11. Learn to trust you will be supported.  

Dreams Become Reality 

One year ago to the day, I was living in Paris and filming an episode for HGTV’s House Hunters International.  It was one of my favorite television shows, and I dreamed of being on it.  The director was a documentarian, and I felt when filming the episode it was as if it was a commercial for my life.  It was a snapshot of me, after I left my job in the UK, moved with my two dogs to Paris, and embarked on the life of being a writer and sound healer.  All rental properties I looked at were on the Left Bank, and I wanted to live the life of Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Picasso, and Anais Nin.  For a moment in time, I did.

Months after filming, my beloved 15 year old English Bulldog Puzo died.  If you watched the show, much of my life and where I chose to live was dependent on Puzo and his limited mobility.  I experienced the greatest grief of my life during that time, but people reminded me there was beauty in this.  My heart proved it had so much capacity to love another and his loss was a mirror to this.  Friends and acquaintances from all over the world offered condolences, even high school classmates who I hadn’t seen in over twenty years.  It served as a reminder that all of us suffer and we are here to walk each other home through the suffering.

Dreams Pivot

Shortly prior to Puzo dying, I had intuitive guidance from my deceased great-grandmother that Puzo would die, it would be okay, and I would move to Spain in regards to my ancestry.  I didn’t expect this.  But after he died, I felt the urge and push to move to Malaga.  Signs began popping up everywhere, and I trusted this.  Dreams can pivot.  

There was much drama and strife to attain this visa, which included needing to go to America for six weeks to the Spanish Consulate in NYC.  Friends and family were supportive, as I stressed out, cried with grief, confusion, and frustration. It was unclear where I was going in life, but all of them reminded me it would be okay regardless of the results.  There were internal doubts that this would work out.  I was going to give up, and simply return to Paris and enjoy my final weeks there before returning to America.  As I left for the airport, my visa was being processed. 

The Wanderlust Continues

Now that I am here in Malaga Spain, I look at my rental apartment.  The New York style I thought I would have years ago when I dreamed of purchasing a place in this city.  When I first visited this town nearly ten years ago, I thought it would be an ideal place to live.  But I viewed it as more of a retirement dream, not somewhere to live in my 40s.  But for some reason Malaga is pulling me now. 

 As I walk by this Spanish guitar player daily on my stroll with Bella (my 14 year old chug), he plays this romantic Spanish song which is familiar.  It was one of the few songs I used to know on the guitar 20 years ago.  Each time I walk by him, I wonder am I pulled to that song now because I know it?  Did part of me know then I would end up here?  Or was there a multiverse where I would have always ended up here?  Who is to say?  

I am grateful for where I am at 44, and look forward to what lessons are in store for me in this next year. 

Resources

For a peak into my episode on HGTV it was titled Oh La La Woof check this out https://m.facebook.com/HGTVHouseHunters/videos/paris-is-callinghouse-hunters-internationalpremiereparis-france1030930c-hgtvauth/453602243537526/?refsrc=deprecated&_rdr

To read about previous reflections and lessons learned about viewing my life as a tourist check out this blog post https://amodernpilgrimage.com/how-to-live-life-like-a-tourist/

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