10,000 hours

10,000 hrs to become an Expert

My meaning simply is, that whatever I have tried to do in life, I have tried with all my heart to do well; that whatever I have devoted myself to, I have devoted myself to completely; that in great aims and in small, I have always been thoroughly in earnest.

Charles Dickens

This video above I have become mesmerized by. I showed my husband, as I was in pure awe. Automatically thoughts go to how beautiful this dancer maintains control and tells a story utilizing the childhood toy of a hula hoop. I expected my husband to say something similar, how astounding she was. What instead he says to me, “Practice Practice and You can do it!”

This was not what I was expecting. Although I admire her, I automatically placed this performance out of my realm of potential. And perhaps that’s what separates me from him. He is working in one of the world’s best restaurants, taking a job that’s way below his pay grade. Why? To work with the best and strive to be a Michelin starred chef.

I am not a perfectionist, I haven’t strived to be the best. And I admit I have half-assed many things throughout my life. Yes, I have attained a lot at a young age, but I was not competitive to be the best? I assumed I wouldn’t be, and therefore do not put effort to try. Semi-successful seemed to suit me fine.

Serendipitously I began reading this book Peak by Anders Ericsson and Robert Pool. The book explores the top performers in their field, and how they have attained their peaks. Is it nature or nurture?

The book begins with a story of Mozart, who had perfect pitch. We know to this day, 1 in 10,000 people have perfect pitch. It has been assumed that individuals who have been exposed to music at a young age and are from countries with tonal languages are more likely to develop this skill. But a recent study in Japan, took 24 children from age 2-6 and gave them daily lessons in music for over a span of a year. With that practice and daily encouragement, all developed perfect pitch!

There is so much more to the book, which I have only partially stepped into. Many of us may develop a skill, but do not become excellent in it. The reason is we may practice, but not engage in intentional practice. We are satisfied with our results and our practice remains in the comfort zone. The only way we grow is if we continually strive past levels of comfort each time we practice .

Discomfort=growth. Perhaps this is why many of us don’t engage in it. It’s hard work, and the daily payoffs aren’t always seen.

We have the potential to develop these super human qualities…from chess playing, athletic strength, perfect pitch, and perhaps even hula hoop dancing.

They say it takes 10,000 hours to be an expert at anything. I’ve been reflecting on this thought.

The comedy Crazy Ex Girlfriend’s protagonist also wonders about this thought, as she ends a relationship. We may spend 10,000 hours obsessing about relationships and crushes, is that time really worth it? Couldn’t we spend our time in a more productive way? To better the world or ourselves?

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Bl30RJPDUv8

I write this before I take my fourth flamenco class in my late 30s. I feel I am far from performance worthy, but why set barriers? Set goals, stick to them, practice past my level of comfort, and perfect it!

The older I get the more I respect those top performers. I am learning to still set additional peaks for myself, and not put barriers on dreams that may pop up, even in my Facebook feed 😉

Character is just another word for having a perfectly disciplined and educated will. A person can make his own character by blending these elements with an intense desire to achieve excellence. Everyone is different in what I will call magnitude, but the capacity to achieve character is still the same.” –Vince Lombardi

For more information on the music study, see below.

http://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/0305735612463948

The Urge To Have

“Just because something belongs to you doesn’t mean you should keep it for the rest of your life. Things are meant to be transitory.”
Susan Wright

I wouldn’t say I have a shopping addiction, but I do have a shopping gene.  My mom is a self-confessed shopaholic, unable to wear everything she purchases.  I get her leftovers, or unused items.  My grandmother has an endless supply of stuff (Bath & Bodywork soaps, purses, jewelry, clothes) to give to her 100 plus co-workers for their birthdays and holiday gifts.  I don’t really want more stuff, I know I have more than enough, but I can’t help but be tempted.

This is why I choose to only shop when I am in dire need of an item or when I am on holiday.  I don’t want to get sucked into the endless of abyss of wanting things.

But then there is the advent of the internet.  The whole world is a mall that fits in your hand.  Generally I am good at blocking it out, but when a sale arises, I can’t help myself.  Today the Cambridge Satchel Company emailed that their sale of up to 70% off is on now and ending.  I immediately logged onto the site, and started to put things in my cart.  I noticed numerous items had already been sold out.  This further heightened my anxiety to beat out other who may be purchasing items in the online ether simultaneously. Sales seem to ignite this competitive fire in me.  I am like Veruca Salt who wants it now! Things I did not even need, I was willing to buy simply because they were on sale.  What if I want them later, will I want to spend twice as much?  Aren’t I just saving my future self money?  But then I put my addiction on hold, and cleaned out the purses in my closet.

 

I began to rearrange them, and realize I have so many designer purses already that I do not get enough use of.  Do I really need two more purses because they were on sale?  I have gotten better at stuff.  Using the Konmari method (Book: Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up), I have begun to let go of things that no longer inspire joy in me.  Reorganizing my closet, I let go of two more purses today.  This does not mean, I must immediately replace them.  Let them go.

I don’t know where this urge to have and accumulate comes from. Hereditary, due to my mother and grandmother’s shopping addictions? Cultural, because the fashion magazine and advertisers encourage us to want the newest and best? Is it because I’m a woman and societal expectations of me, and I care too much about my exterior?  Perhaps I am just bored, or am hopeful that the next item I purchase will bring me a momentary glimpse of excitement, compliments, or happiness.

I began to sort through my phone for images of stuff I wanted to purchase the past several weeks during my recent trips to Israel and Italy…

Thank goodness for smart phones, I was able to take photos of things I wanted versus actually buying them.  This helped my urge in some way.  I was able to capture it, attain it in pixel format.  It was mine, even though only virtually.  But why do I need to have?  Can’t I simply appreciate that exists in the world?

I’m perhaps even writing this blog piece now to postpone pushing “purchase” on that electronic cart.  I know deep down, these things won’t make me happy, they are only things.  And like everything else, I will become bored with them, and search for the next thing.

I realize this is a reoccurring thing with me (re: Dec 27th’s post).  But it’s something that I think many of us struggle with.  Do I need to fill my life with more stuff?  An excess of things, that I begin to forget what I have?

And so, I will practice my mindfulness at this moment.  I will see this urge to buy is temporary.  It will pass.  Notice the initiation of the urge to buy arise, the peak, and the cessation.  In Buddhism, it’s discussed that everything in life has a birth, peak, and death.  This includes our breath, thoughts, feelings, sensations, and even our lives.  If I wait this out enough, it will pass.

The biggest thing in all this is to notice the fluctuations as an observer, and allow it to pass.  Question where this urge to want is coming from.  Distinguish what is a need versus a want. And act accordingly.

“This is the definition of clutter: things that exist in your outer life to distract you from the inner things that you’re avoiding. If you avoid something, it grows…. The great thing is, the reverse is also true: when you honestly look at something, it shrinks. When you see the situation for what it is, bypassing the emotional layers that coloured it and made it into a clutter monster, it becomes simple. That’s how peaceful clutter busting is. You’re honestly looking at each layer of distraction, questioning the thing, letting it go, and realizing what’s underneath. Looking directly at something has the power of a magnifying glass in the sun. The sun is you; the glass, your attention”
Brooks Palmer

 

The Layers of Love

We have entered February, and the inevitable holiday of Valentine’s Day approaches.  I am adding a link to a recent The Moth Podcast episode below: Camouflage (Stories of Our  Hidden Selves).  Although the episode is not particularly about love, there are three stories shared of how people have hidden their identities in various situations…comical, heart-wrenching, and inspirational.  In listening to the stories, I couldn’t help but see the complexities and layers of love that exist in our everyday lives.

We focus on “the one,” but what about the rest of the happenings that are occurring in our atmosphere?

Generally romantic love takes precedence, and we shield ourselves from all other loves that can and do exist….

There is familial love, friendship love, paternal love, unrequited love, love for past lovers, love for strangers, love for our community and the greater humanity and all beings on the planet, love for God/universal power, and even love for the present moment.

Sometimes, all it takes is one particular person to open us up to receive and share love with others.   Other times we have been damaged by love, and build barriers to not allow others in.  But can we be vulnerable to allow the varieties of love into our lives again? Are our hearts open?

Are our minds available to catch love when we see it occurring? Do we have the attention to feel love in another’s gaze, smile, or sacred moment even if we do not express the words to another or share a kiss?  Can we feel the love as a stranger offers to open a door for us or grins at our dogs when we are taking them for a walk?

As I was listening to the podcast, I couldn’t help but tear up for the beauty that exists in love…There’s so much negativity in the news that is shared, but these acts of love occur everyday.  Notice them, welcome them, and share it.

https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/the-moth/id275699983?mt=2&i=1000400528422

For Longing

Poem by John O’Donohue

blessed be the longing that brought you here
and quickens your soul with wonder.

may you have the courage to listen to the voice of desire
that disturbs you when you have settled for something safe.

may you have the wisdom to enter generously into your own unease
to discover the new direction your longing wants you to take.

may the forms of your belonging – in love, creativity, and friendship –
be equal to the grandeur and the call of your soul.

may the one you long for long for you.
may your dreams gradually reveal the destination of your desire.

may a secret providence guide your thought and nurture your feeling.

may your mind inhabit your life with the sureness
with which your body inhabits the world.

may your heart never be haunted by ghost-structures of old damage.

may you come to accept your longing as divine urgency.
may you know the urgency with which God longs for you.

 

Banksy: Anarchist or Saint?

Forewarning: I will be writing about Israel in two parts, as I know there are two sides to every story (and this one may be skewed).

Tonight I am staying in the Walled Off Hotel, Banksy’s first boutique hotel. Why did he choose Bethlehem as the first hotel location? “He heard they had a shortage of rooms here”…

It should come as no surprise that Palestine was chosen as a place for this venture. Banksy has been doing graffiti art to the area for years, bringing attention to a place we try to shield our eyes and minds from.

Graffiti : is it art? Desecration ? Illegal? Social commentary ? The verdict vacillates . But Banksy is probably the most well known unknown graffiti artist in the world.

I admit I am highly uneducated about the local history of politics and religion. Planning a trip to Israel fuelled my interest in beginning to learn the basics of this area.

Arriving in Tel Aviv was not as scary as we were forewarned and encouraged to think. My built up barriers lessened as I walked along the beachfront Mediterranean. It was reminiscent of Los Angeles: families going for a morning jog, surfers waiting for the best wave, and groups of friends lounging in the sun. Modern-esque. There was nothing to be afraid of here.

Then we arrived in Bethlehem…The Walled Off Hotel (play on Waldorf Hotel) was a candy store for any Banksy lover. Art work and conversation pieces filled the space of everything within viewing distance. There were variations of familiar works I have seen before: a statue with a cloud of smoke from tear gas, a revolutionist throwing flowers, and infamous angels with gas masks on. Every piece of the hotel was lined with detail , including the entrance to the rooms , which is behind a faux library bookcase.

We awaited our tour of the wall and a local refugee camp: Aida.

It is called The Walled Off Hotel due to the proximity of the wall that separates Israel and Palestine. Below is a brief description from the hotel website that describes the wall ….

“So, what is the wall exactly?

The wall is a military structure over 700km long built by the Israeli government. It encloses occupied Palestine and annexes parts of its land. Depending on who you talk to it’s either a vital security measure or an instrument of apartheid. Its route is highly controversial and it has a dramatic impact on the daily lives of a lot of people”

Graffiti is sprayed throughout parts of this wall, a sister store of the hotel called “wall-mart” sells spray paint and stencils for you to be your own Banksy. Although I was tempted , I didn’t grab the opportunity to leave my colourful mark.

And then the tour began:

It’s hard to put into words…

My husband would describe this as one of the worst things he has ever seen in his life. He was in shock, as we outwardly expressed our experiences differently. Anthony was horrified, appetite limited, and had few words to describe it. He needed to be alone post-tour to grasp what we had just seen. I needed to process through writing .

I was also horrified, but was extremely curious and fascinated. How can people live like this ? Our tour was two hours long, and yes we were afraid. Military guards taunted our tour guide by throwing piss out of the watch tower above us.

Were they going to shoot us for exploring the area? Were they upset at our guide for tattling that the garbage on the street was just thrown from the Israeli military member who was currently on duty?

The guide continued to inform us of water bottles that have been thrown that are filled with urine and tossed into the cemetery we strolled through , where his parents and ancestors are buried. “This is inhumane and disrespectful.” These acts infuriated him and saddened him, we could sense the strength of these emotions that must arise each day he gives this tour.

He pointed out the area above our heads where they let out chemical gases that intoxicate the residents and cause numerous physical symptoms. Would it happen during our tour? My husband tried to steer clear of the watch towers not wanting to be splattered with anything unexpected.

As we walked along the wall, there was loads of garbage , but in addition pieces of remnants of tear gas. The most recent ones were tossed over from the watch towers last week.

We walked onto the rooftop of a youth center that was getting renovated. It was crazy to see all the tear gas remnants on the roof of a building serving children. The local school nearby the UN created no longer had windows, because over the years children have been injured while in class from things being shot at through the windows.

There were bullet holes in the walls that were never fixed . Living conditions were appalling. Our tour guide mentioned , “we are the only people who are refugees in our own country.”

Initially when the Palestinians were forced to leave their homes in 1948, they left exponentially quick. Many left with few belongings except their keys to their homes, as they thought after some time they could return. They never did return to these original homes in Israel , but all families still keep these keys. Throughout generations it serves as a reminder of hope, a recent massive key was installed in the Aida refugee camp as a massive symbolic representation of hope.

Initially the refugees lived in tents for 10 years. The UN offered to build concrete homes, but the Palestinian refugees did not want to have these homes , as doing so would be accepting their fate. Therefore as a compromise they agreed to the concrete homes under one condition . There will be no roofs . If they lived in a roofless house , they could still believe their living situation was temporary. Time passed , and they agreed to have roofs. Despite this, hope continues.

All the children we passed were fascinated by us foreigners and were quite friendly, speaking English with handshakes and hellos.

As we walked , we saw images of Palestinian men, many who were activists that are imprisoned. If the image is black and white, it means they were murdered in that exact spot.

I asked one of our guides if he ever traveled outside of Palestine . He said he had gone to numerous countries in Europe. I queried his favourite place in the world, he said “here.” One questions why? It’s ugly, inhumane, and filthy. But this individual has created an organisation encouraging volunteerism with his people. Aida is familiar, this is his land, all he knows is here. Why abandon his loves?

My husband asked our guide if he ever met the elusive artist Banksy. He’s a mystery, his identity is not known to anyone. He replied “no but if I ever meet Banksy. I would shake his hand. I think he’s a saint for bringing his work here and this hotel, if it wasn’t for him you may not have come here.”

At the end of our tour, our guide said we are not tourists, we are not Americans , we are humans. We are friends. His hope was we share their stories with others, and so I share this with you.

Banksy’s most recent work was completed December 2017, the day his alter-nativity play premiered next to his hotel. It was a scene with two angels, an interpretation that it will take the work of God and angels to tear the wall down and finally bring peace.

Walls are controversial even in theory, but it’s a different experience to walk the path of the locals who live this everyday. For a moment to feel that we were threatened due to simply being below the guards was frightening. I can’t imagine facing it daily. There are some Palestinian workers that have the rights to work in Jerusalem, but to do so they must fall in line on foot every morning for 4-5 hours to get to their job which is less than 100 meters away. They face humiliation and endless waiting standing to simply work for money to feed their family.

The Walled Off Hotel brags to have the world’s worst view . And it does.

Coming here I understand the depth of Banksy’s work more. I have gotten a small glimpse of the ongoing Israeli and Palestinian conflict. It has broadened my perspective and experience of humanity .

I listened to other guests in the lobby staying here from all over the world. They were sharing their love for Banksy, saying they would not stay in this area if this hotel was not here. It’s not beautiful here, it’s quite the opposite. But it is still a must see, it’s a must do.

We can’t continue to live our lives looking there other way. We must open our eyes to how people are still currently living. Of course an experience like this reminds you how to appreciate your own life.

Other than that , I am not sure what the next steps are past this . Perhaps it is simply to share knowledge with others, encourage conversations and new perspectives.

Tomorrow we head to the church of the nativity and later in the week Jerusalem. It blows my mind that this sacred and holy land for several main religions has so much discord. Generation after generation of conflict . It makes you want to cry out to God in frustration…why???

“I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality… I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word.”-Martin Luther King, Jr.

For more information on the hotel:

http://walledoffhotel.com/questions.html

A recent piece of the refugee camp area:

https://www.google.co.uk/amp/mondoweiss.net/2017/12/crowded-refugee-berkeley/amp/

A peak into the Alter-nativity documentary collaboration with Danny Boyle and Banksy is below

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=KGxP8NlkIuA

Check out a Rick Steves lecture on the area

Love over the years…

I saw this beautiful story online and had to share it. If you have time watch it, the story lingers .

Why I love flamenco

After years of admiring from afar, I have chosen to recently take up flamenco. I await tonight for my third flamenco class. There is still so much to learn, but I am fascinated with this dance. It happens to originate from the Andalucia region in Spain (which is my favourite region in my favourite country). There is complexity in this dance, which seems to combine the outward components of tap dance, with sways of bellydance, and the attitude of a hip hop diva. Perhaps I am drawn to this dance due to deep genealogical roots, of family originating from Spain. Flamenco seems to call out to me. Whose heart doesn’t it call out to?

When the music that accompanies the dance is live, excitement heightens. The singers, guitarists, and percussionists join forces enticing the dancers to express themselves.

Generally the background beats are fast paced. But the music has a extreme sadness to it, a calling out for us to harness our pain. The guitar and melodic voices act as a trigger for us to recall our love stories that don’t have a happy ending. It’s as if the singer is a snake charmer luring the dancer to come out and enchant us with their movements.

Passionate melancholy prevails.

The flamenco dancer expresses his or her fury to their romantic mishap. The memory is alive and it’s pulling at their hearts, but these Spanish dancers don’t wallow into a fetal position. Their bodies expand with confidence. They demand our attention. How beautiful it is to witness beings that embrace the wonder and pain love wholeheartedly offers us.

For a moment it is as if the Hindu god Shiva Nataraja has taken human form.

It is said that although Shiva is among fire and chaos, he finds bliss. He is king of the dance . You can be centered and joyful within change and perceived pain.

Flamenco serves as a celebration of life. Dancers embrace their sadness , love that has gone wrong or is unrequited . Not only did they survive this, but they prevail stronger, with more confidence than before. It’s as if each heartache brings more stories to dance to, more strength , and somehow more passion and love.

Olé

Post Holiday Presents or Presence?

The Boxing Day sales have been on.  It’s so easy to want to sweep in and exchange gifts or buy an excess of clothing with the exorbitant discounts.  But before you drop your paycheck at the stores, did you really feel gratitude for what you already have?

I admit I am guilty of this.  Generally when I receive gifts I have been so mentally busy, that although I verbalize appreciation, I do not even get to utilize the gifts that are given to me.  And then without remembering, I buy more stuff.  This is not only the case with what other people buy me but with what I have bought myself.  I am not present to appreciate the presents.

These past several months, I’ve been traveling to numerous countries, while maintaining a full time job.  Each time I return home from a brief trip, I throw my luggage to the side, keeping souvenirs in them, along with gifts I receive, or mail I need to go through. My things simply seem to accumulate, and they are “things” because I cannot totally recall what is in there.

Years ago I read Maria Kondo’s The Life Changing Magic of Cleaning Up, and although I tried to implement her method of organization, it did not stick.  The main principle in the book is that our home should be filled with items that only spark joy, if it doesn’t get rid of it.  We must feel each item in our hand, notice if it brings this feeling, and if not thank the item aloud, and discard of it.  It served it’s purpose, even if it was never used, it reminded you of what you do like.

Now with some holiday time off, I am starting to sift through what I do have, and seeing what sparks joy.  Instead of re-gifting a present that doesn’t suit me, exchanging it, or waiting for the right moment to use it, I am going to embrace it now. It’s endless the amount of things we have excess of that we may not use or appreciate to the extent that is possible : food, jewelry, clothing, books, music, podcasts, or social media sites.

One example I noticed yesterday is when sifting through Facebook, I found a humorous pet video enduring and want to share this with my husband.  In the meantime, I was  ignoring the pawing of my dog who was longing for attention.  She simply wants my presence, and I wasn’t available to give it to her.

As I create new goals for 2018, I know one of them will be Be Grateful for What I Have and Utilize It.  But this is hard to quantify.  Goals should be specific and measurable.  Therefore, what I am going to do is commit to writing one Thank You card per month.  These will not be combined with birthday wishes or holiday greetings.  They will be separate thank you’s to 12 different people that have assisted me in some way.

Do you live in excess? Do all of your belongings spark joy? How do you express sincere gratitude for those who have helped you in some capacity?  I hope this holiday season brings you reflection in how you want to live your life next year.

Christmas Sucks or Socks?

Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a harder battle.-Plato

Holidays can be depressing. It brings up memories of those we have lost, reflections of where we want to be, and discomfort if you are spending it alone.

There are advent calendars to countdown to this day, and which could be the pinnacle of misery. Or perhaps not.

My husband is working 100 hours during this holiday week and therefore I am alone. But yesterday I wasn’t.

On Xmas Eve, I spent several hours carrying around goodies to give the homeless in London. My brother John Paul, who lives in Los Angeles, came up with the idea. We are both alone this December 25th on opposite sides of the world. , and instead of wallowing we will serve others.

When he told me of this idea, I agreed how great it was and asked what we should call it. “Christmas Socks.” Pun intended.

Although I have lived in England for several years, I admit I didn’t know where to find loads of homeless people. My brother offered to find a shelter, “it won’t be listed on tripsdvisor.”

And so I purchased 50 Socks , placed a granola bar in each of them , and a Hafiz quote that says “I wish I could show you when you are lonely or in darkness the astonishing light of your own being .”

My journey began, taking the hour long tube ride to Shoreditch.

Within several minutes, I delivered my first pair, and then another. I had no direct path to follow. I was simply searching for the homeless on the street. I realised what an active process it was seeking out people I usually tried to hide my eyes from. It saddened me as I did this, sometimes from far away I couldn’t distinguish if I was seeing trash or a person. How awful so many of us choose to turn away versus turn towards. I know I am generally guilty of this.

Sometimes when I offered Socks they were alert and could say thank you , other times they were asleep trying to stay warm under layers of shirts and blankets.

After delivering 10 Socks, I realised how exhausting it was to search and scan for people who are trying to not be seen. I stopped in Spitafields Market, where I knew volunteers would be who sold calendars to support the homeless. All photographers featured in the calendar were local homeless people.

I informed them of my activity for the day and asked where the homeless lived. They said, “let’s ask Richard, he’s homeless.” Richard was excited of the idea I had and offered additional places I could go. His face lit up when I informed him that my brother out in California was doing this too and spoke of his time he lived in the West Coast. The volunteers even offered me a gift of a calendar as a thank you for the work I was doing. Richard was excited that I could send this to my brother and autographed the calendar. I wasn’t expecting anything from anyone, and was so grateful for this kind gesture. I was trying to give, and didn’t expect to receive.

My journey continued, as I delivered a total of 29 pairs of socks. I wish I could have delivered all 50. I felt this was not enough , as I know there is more I could do to serve others. With the remaining 21 pairs, I may continue this offering into the new year.

But what this small act of kindness did, was it eliminated the loneliness and self pity I had for being alone. It reminded of the larger global and local problems that are in our atmosphere. It’s true that when we are feeling depressed and want delve on a downward spiral, all we need to do is reach out to help others. This act can assist in lifting us up.

Throughout the day, I witnessed suffering, gratitude, and surprisingly more kindness. I observed a Londoner buying a meal for someone I had just delivered Socks to. He stayed and spoke with this man for an extended amount of time. If I wasn’t searching for the homeless I wouldn’t have seen it. I would have turned away, like so many do.

Can we keep our eyes open to be present for the beauty around us?

Can we turn towards this holiday season? Not just for our family and friends, but for those that are truly suffering ?

As I was transferring at the tube station, I caught one of my favourite Christmas songs and wanted to share it…

I hope this holiday season is filled with gratitude and love for you. And if possible please share some warmth to those that need it…

We must learn to regard people less in the light of what they do or omit to do, and more in the light of what they suffer.-Dietrich Bonhoeffer,

For more information on purchasing a calendar please check out the website below:

http://cafeart.org.uk

I want holiday cheer

It’s Christmas Eve Eve , and I want to be in the holiday spirit. But I am not there yet.

I have been wearing holiday jumpers, sending out holiday cards, and listening to incessant Christmas music . Despite all this, something is missing.

I am going to be alone over Xmas . I am an expat , my friends and family live overseas. My husband is working over the holidays and part of me wants to exude sadness. Who likes to be alone on Xmas ? It’s depressing, I have not been looking forward to this at all.

But I will not let this factor of being alone shadow my world. I’ve been reflecting one way to counter this…volunteer for those less fortunate. Now the question is where .

I have been researching for weeks, and have not found the right fit to be on Xmas eve or day. I told this to my brother , who lives in Los Angeles. Oddly he said he will be alone too. Upon further reflection and inspired by this idea of serving others, he has decided to give socks to the homeless.

This inspired me, why must I search an organisation to serve? We can give to anyone in need. Therefore let’s see what arises for me tomorrow.

How are you spending the holidays ? If you are alone and depressed , who can you reach out to?

“The best way to not feel hopeless is to get up and do something. Don’t wait for good things to happen to you. If you go out and make some good things happen, you will fill the world with hope, you will fill yourself with hope.”

Barack Obama

Awaiting Hamilton

Countdown: 2 more months till Hamilton

I landed two tickets to the traveling production of Hamilton, which ironically I will see in the United Kingdom.  I know I am one of the last Americans to get on the Hamilton train, but I believe I am excused because I live overseas.  My cousin had been singing the praises of Hamilton when I visited him a year ago in New Jersey.  He enters the daily lottery to win tickets for the show, and after exerted effort he finally won tickets.  I don’t know what took me so long to listen to the soundtrack, but once I did I was hooked.  The intensity and passion as hip hop, history, and broadway intertwine.

I always used to wish that life were musicals.  If only we could sing our pain and joys in a melodic fashion.  There’s a healing nature to it.  But since we can’t, I stumbled across this broadway carpool karaoke.  It will bring a smile and massage to your heart.

 

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