Ode to Frankie

13 Aug 2023 Leave a comment

by Dr. Tricia Wolanin in Uncategorized Tags: , , , ,

A friend once told me, there are three things you need to travel.  You will never have all three at once, so if you have two of the three do it.  These are money, time, and health.  I never forgot this, and seem to live each year by this.

Years ago, when I first met my ex-husband, we would take weekend trips with our English bulldog Puzo from New York to Connecticut to spend time with his parents.  They were Sicilian on both sides, and although they didn’t speak the language, everything was 100% Italian.  This was in how they interacted with each other, the delicious meals they prepared, wine they drank, desserts we lingered on, cooking shows we watched, and their love for all things Italian.  

What I found interesting is only Anthony’s father had been to Italy.  His mother, Frankie, had a  wish to travel to Italy when she retired.  She dreamed when this day would occur, the landmarks she would visit, the ancestral land she would walk on, and all the cuisine she would memorize to share in her stories with others.  There were elusive plans made, but nothing concrete.  Frankie never got the opportunity.  Cancer returned for the second time before retirement, spread quickly, and she died in her sixties. 

 I think of that often, and tell others as a warning.  We dont know how much time we will have left on this earth, if you want to go somewhere, do it.  Nothing is guaranteed.

I am in Italy as I write this. This 2 ½ week trip has included visits to Lampedusa, Naples, Pompeii, Positano, Amalfi Coast, Campania region, Bologna, and San Marino (another country existing in Italy).  I have lost track over the years how many times I have come to Italy, but I believe it’s my 14th or 15th trip. Even though I have been here for numerous trips, I never forget how lucky I am to be here.  I am not even Italian, and I have been able to travel to this land so frequently with ease.  

People wait their whole lives to do one trip, as I am doing right now.  Some never make it, like Frankie.  I’m aware of this, and I do want to honor her as I take this trip.  Her birthday would have been today, a fiery Leo.  I shared with Anthony how I thought of his mom recently on this trip when in Lampedusa, as I saw various Sicilian images.  I knew she would have been enamored by all the ceramic colorful pieces, and he said maybe she is here with me.  I would hope so.  I would like to think wherever she is on the other side, she’s been able to transport herself to Italy.  Prior to Anthony and I separating, we made a handful of trips to Italy, including Sicily.  These were journeys he had to do, as he didn’t want to waste anymore time.  I am sure she was there in spirit as well. 

 I travel for myself, but I also travel to inspire others.  I want to share that we can explore exotic lands, where we don’t speak the language.  It may not always be easy, but it will be filled with wonder.  There is nothing to be afraid of and this is not something you should put off until retirement.  Make it work, whether your dream is Italy, Egypt, Hawaii, South America, or Asia.  The adventurer in me is trying to pull out the adventurer in you.  You may not aspire to join the Travel Century Club, as I am, but allow yourself to dream of that one place to you have always longed to go to.  Make concrete plans for this to occur.  Travel is an investment that will last a lifetime. You don’t want to be on your deathbed, wishing you would have taken that one trip.  Do it now.  Remember the three things you need to travel: money, time, and health.  If you have two of them, book that trip.  You won’t regret it.  

San Marino: Land of Fairytales

11 Aug 2023 Leave a comment

by Dr. Tricia Wolanin in Uncategorized Tags: , , , ,

Did you ever watch those romantic comedies on Netflix, where an everyday woman who is a reporter, hairdresser, or pr person happens to stumble upon meeting a prince of a picturesque land you never heard of?  The film captures the atmosphere as charming and quaint, and you wonder does this place even exist?  

            Oftentimes, as an American I envision going to a European city to find a hidden castle and lush land, maybe even a prince.   I visit these places, and although they are interesting, I am tiny bit disappointed.  Those locations are not always what I imagine a kingdom to be.  I didn’t know what to expect when I arrived in San Marino, but I was sure that San Marino was a land of fairytales.

Top 10 Reasons San Marino is a Land of Fairytales

1.Butterflies

Everywhere I went there seems to be butterflies soaring around me, I couldn’t help but wonder is this where butterflies head on their days off from the Italian countryside.  The only other place where I witnessed butterflies dancing was on the Camino de Santiago, a special place of pilgrimage.  I tried to take photos or videos of these butterflies, but it was as if they were playing hide and seek with me.  Having them walk along my path throughout the day, reminded me to be present, and take in the wonder.  

2. The Public Palace

This parliament building is picturesque with guards in old time clothes doing duty at the front doors.  But these guards aren’t as strict as those in other countries, they lean versus having erect postures.  They say “ariverdeci” when you leave the building.  They are progressive, as I even saw a female guard entering the building when I left.  In addition, the council room is a stunning masterpiece, with mythological characters on every wall.  I wouldn’t mind working and daydreaming here.  An additional interesting fact, the leader of parliament changes every 6 months to ensure nobody has too much power.

 

3. Tower 1

This place was stunning with Game of Throne style views everywhere you turn.  As you climb the tower walls, Tower 2 peaks in the background.  Although this was a place that held prisoners, it seemed to catapult you to another world, as staff played mesmerizing classical music to send you back in time.

4. Esoteric Stores

The first store I walked into had images and statues for sale of Egyptian gods and goddesses, the Green Man, Celtic and Nordic Symbols, pendulums, and numerous crystals.  I thought I had stumbled to the one and only store in this town, but there were many that sold crystals, mala bracelets, and even various tarot cards. 

5. Fairys, Black Cats, Knights Templar, and Fortuna 

It seemed as if every other tourist shop sold these fairytale like images and statues.  I knew as one walked the earth here you felt, as if you were stepping into a Disney film.  But I couldn’t help but question if there was another reason why all these images were sold here.  Was there magic that once existed in this area?  Tourists felt it when they came here and gravitated towards buying these trinkets.  But did other entities have a connection here decades before?

6. Swords and Shields

I wasn’t clear why there were so many stores that sold guns, swords, and shields.  I am a peaceful person, not into any of this paraphernalia.   But I was curious if young men who visited here, felt pulled to harness their inner King Arthur.  The store owners didn’t want to leave out young girls, because there were toy shields that had a unicorns as crests that were available for purchase.   

7. The Woods

If you stepped outside of the tourist area, and allowed yourself to wander, you would find beautiful trees that surrounds the grounds.  Although this land was small, there was refuge to be found under the shade of the trees.  As I walked through them, I looked up at the looming towers above, signifying greatness.  I felt as if I was walking on mystical land, as I passed by butterflies before I took the cable car up to the top of the town. There were tunnels in the woods, that a small trolley drove through.  The area once had a train that went from Rimini to San Marino, but was destroyed during World War II.  It was also at that time, that these tunnels served as hiding spots for families escaping Italy.  What happened to those families?  How did the tunnels and the surrounding woods care for them during those strenuous times? 

8. Dogs

San Marino is extremely dog friendly.  It surprised me that people brought a dog onto a bus from Rimini to San Marino.  Families didn’t want to leave their pets at home, as they knew their dogs would enjoy the wonder of this land as well.    As a dog owner, I know I am biased but the abundance of dogs added to the magic here. 

9. Affordability

Everything seems affordable in San Marino, at least on my one day trip.  Prices are low due to the decreased taxes.  In addition, I had a several course fancy meal, with a large bottle of sparkling water, overlooking the beauty of the kingdom for 25 euros.  I decided to splurge and eat several courses for lunch, even if I was alone.  I could have spent hours looking out onto the scenic views from my table.  Every morsel was delicious, particularly these potatoes that were buttered to perfection.  

10. You Feel Like Royalty

Wherever you walked at the top of San Marino, you felt regal.  One couldn’t help but look out onto the Italian countryside, and be enamored by the view.  With each step you took, regardless if the road was going uphill or downhill, you couldn’t help but gasp at the views.  There were tourists, but it wasn’t overcrowded.  And for a moment, you could feel that maybe in another lifetime you ruled the land here. 

For those interested in coming here, it is 90 minute drive from Bologna.  I rarely drive overseas, therefore I took a 90 minute air conditioned train ride from Bologna Centrale to Rimini.  The cost was 10.80 euros each way.  From Rimini, across the train station, you can buy bus tickets from Rimini to San Marino.  Tickets are 6 euros each way, but a special existed for 20 euros, which also included a one way cable car ticket and a trolley ride. To find out more, check out this website www.bytrainsanmarino.com

Naples: Another Experience

06 Aug 2023 Leave a comment

by Dr. Tricia Wolanin in Uncategorized Tags: , , ,

Rome is stately and impressive; Florence is all beauty and enchantment; Genoa is picturesque; Venice is a dream city; but Naples is simply — fascinating.
– Lilian Whiting

            I can’t say I ever really knew Naples.  Years ago I went to Naples with my ex-husband, it was a layover towards our trip on the Amalfi coast.  We didn’t get out of the hotel much, except to get pizza.  We heard rumors of the lack of safety, saw the trash that aligned the streets, and chose the safety and comfort of our hotel room.  This time, I debated this, would I just use Naples as a resting layover?  I originally planned to stay in my room and rest in between trips.  But I am so glad I pushed myself.  I ventured to Pompeii en route to taking a flight to Lampedusa.  There was such richness, beauty, and questions on the remains that I walked among.  I was filled with wonder and awe of what I had witnessed.  Upon returning from Lampedusa, I would have one night in Naples before I would meet with a group I was planning to take a pilgrimage with.  I wanted to make the most out of this opportunity as well.  

            I was staying by the train station, and although it was convenient for transportation, it wasn’t the most spectacular way to be welcomed by a city with homeless people lining the McDonalds by the train entrance.  I heard warnings to watch my belongings, and so I walked quickly to get to my hotel.  My food choices were only partially based on reviews, but primarily I wanted to eat as close as possible to the hotel, so I could rush back.  

“…the city of Naples was like this: wonderful from a distance, but when seen close up, it was fragmentary, indefinable, and coarse…”
― Franco Di Mare, The Paradise of the Devils

            Yet for the morning I wanted an adventure.   As I walked towards the historical center, I realized Naples is a city that is misunderstood, or in reality, it’s complex.  Yes, there is the crime factor, the mafia, but there are layers of immigrants here, diversity, old castles, and beautiful streets that are lined with laundry that is hung to dry.  Trash is everywhere, but they are next to little cafes serving lemoncellos or cappacinos.  

That morning, I allowed myself to have time to wander into a store to buy this fabulous yellow hat that replaced my hat which was worn out from the previous week.  There was a church I walked into that seemed more of a food bank storage than a place of worship.  I was led to the local Cathedral, lit candles for both my grandmother and dog, and took in the beauty.

I ventured to the Cathedral, modern art museum, and the birthplace of pizza at L’Antica Pizzeria da Michele.  I waited in line for 35 minutes for a takeaway pizza, as I yearned to see what the hype was about.  Since 1870 this restaurant has been serving pizza.  There were four choices to choose from, and an entire pizza cost 5.50 euros.  Crust was extremely thin, the slices were not cut up, but it tasted delicious.  I could only devour half of the pizza, but on the way to my hotel I dropped off the other half to one of the homeless individuals I saw earlier that day.

            On summer days in southern Italy the heat and sun can be excessive, and one should also expect that there may be no air conditioning.  *Travel tip for Americans travelling to Europe for the first time.  I’ve learned over the years that some Europeans don’t truly believe in air conditioning, as they feel it’s bad for your health.  Air conditioning is a luxury, but for some it’s avoided at all costs. Travelling may not always be comfortable, but it’s at times part of the process.  The point of travel is to get out of your comfort zone, your everyday life, witness how another part of the world lives. 

“If I’m an advocate for anything, it’s to move. As far as you can, as much as you can. Across the ocean, or simply across the river. The extent to which you can walk in someone else’s shoes or at least eat their food, it’s a plus for everybody. Open your mind, get up off the couch, move.”-Anthony Bourdain 

The Laundromat

02 Aug 2023 Leave a comment

by Dr. Tricia Wolanin in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , ,

It’s been 6 days in my 21 day journey, and I knew the time had come.  I needed to go to a laundromat.  This is something I have avoided when travelling.  I think it’s been awhile since I travelled for an extended amount of time and wasn’t visiting family or friends.  It’s not an irrational fear to avoid public laundromats in foreign countries while travelling.  There was a reason.  Years ago, I was robbed.  Yes, in my twenties while backpacking Europe for three months, a friend and I went to a laundromat in Florence.  I didn’t think much of it as I stuffed my clothes in a machine, I must have only placed my wallet down for 2 minutes.  When I looked back, it was gone.  Gone was the money and credit cards, but luckily the passport was in the hotel.  I was so grateful my friend Crystal was travelling with me during this portion of the journey.  It was a three month solo backpacking trip, but for two different portions, I met up with friends.  We could lean on Crystal’s credit cards, until I could wait for a replacement card to be sent to the next hotel.  Ever since then, I avoid public laundromats at all costs while travelling.

But I was now in Italy again in the middle of summer.  My clothes were quite disgusting of discovery days full of sweat.  The hotel didn’t have a laundry service.  I had no other choice.  This was the prime time to do laundry, I was on the chilled out island of Lampedusa.  I didn’t dare do laundry in Naples, where I was returning to.  And so viola, I headed to the laundromat.

Although it was only 930 am, it was already in the 90s.  I was filled with sweat on my walk, and upon arrival at the laundromat I noted all were full. There were three machines, one was broken, and two were in use.  I would wait for the remaining 17 minutes.  First I waited inside, but there was no air circulation, I could only feel the hot air of the machines doing their jobs.  One woman folded her laundry, with a hair wrap to keep the sweat from her face.  We commented on the heat, her in Italian, me in pantomime. 

This was my opportunity to reframe the experience.  I brought a book to read as I used my Spanish abanico to cool me down.  This wouldn’t be so bad.  Eventually the time came for me to load the wash, and after I did, I sat outside waiting for the time to pass.  Another woman sat outside with me waiting for her load in the dryer.  She wore all white, a white fitted tee shirt and white ripped jeans that seemed to have a faint stain of coffee in the back.  I had seen her earlier on the phone, talking to someone on the phone.  It was most probably her husband, as she rolled her eyes in desperation and leaned over a table looking exasperated.  I don’t know if her dramatic attempts were for me, if she thought her partner could see this on the phone, or it was the only way to act out with her partner in public privacy.

There were many older men hanging in the streets at this hour.  I wondered if they were there because it was yet to be high noon and stores were open, or they left their homes so the women could do the house work.  Maybe one of those men was her husband.  This could be why this woman was acting over the top, she felt I could relate to her experience as a woman doing laundry in a hot laundromat on a Sunday. 

We sat on a bench outside, she offered a cigarette.  I politely declined, but thought to myself “how Italian.”  We are cleaning our clothes so they can smell fresh and clean, but her laundry would then be folded with her nicotine covered hands.  

I appreciated her warm gesture of the cigarette, perhaps she wanted to connect in the only way she knew how due to the disparity in our verbal communication.  Maybe I should have taken the cigarette, even though I don’t smoke, to accept her kindness.  This was a corrective experience from my previous Italian theft laundromat story.  Now it was a moment of connection with a stranger, we sat commiserating in the heat, two women waiting for our laundry on a Saturday afternoon.  

La La Lampedusa

30 Jul 2023 Leave a comment

by Dr. Tricia Wolanin in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

And I could finally let out a sigh.

It was as if I ate a large meal, and could unbutton the first part of my jeans and breathe again.

This is what I felt when I walked the streets of Lampedusa.  It was a hectic busy 24 hours flying from Malaga to Naples, going to Pompeii, and flying to Lampedusa. The day was filled with a bit of anxiety, travel stress, and tons of stress.  I think my body was on guard and tense due to my strict timelines, the heat, and the awareness of the fact that I could not get too comfortable because I would have to move to the next location.  I had not arrived yet.  But now walking the quiet “main street” of town, I could relax.  I didn’t even need to go to the beach yet to feel the chill vibes. 

There was a tranquility here. The restaurants placed chairs on the center of the road and closed off the street for the night to begin.  Store workers sat in plastic chairs as tourists walked by.  Elderly locals looked over their balconies to observe the newest people to visit their island.  These photos capture peaceful moments in this Italian Island, which was once considered a Tunisian territory.

It’s a place I don’t know much about.  As I tried to youtube video clips, I couldn’t find much. I know Italians vacation here for their summer holidays.  But it’s also more well known for something else.  When I told a French guy I was coming here, he said “Lampedusa the place where all the migrants go?”  This is true, why most people are aware of this area is it is the location that many refugees try to escape to.  It’s a gateway to Europe, people from various parts of Africa voyage to Tunisia.  And from there the expedition continues.  As you are aware, not many people make it. 

This past spring, I decided to set the goal of joining TCC (Travel Century Club), to be part of this, I must visit 100 territories, and I want to do this before I turn 50.  Since I want to do this, and was flying to Naples already, why not go to Lampedusa? I also will San Marino, while I am at it.  So this is what I am doing.  Lampedusa marks the 65th territory I have visited. 

 I am staying in Lampedusa for five nights, and originally I thought this was excessive.  The island is only 7 miles long and 2 miles wide.  Would I go crazy, could I fly to Tunisia and check off another territory?  But now that I am here, my soul is grateful for what has been planned out before me.  

I have time to wind down, write, read, and catch up with myself.  The slow pace of the locals and the fact that there are minimal tours here, allows me to wander or simply swim in the sea.  I could allow myself to simply be, and I wasn’t aware that this is what I was longing for.  Even though I am not currently working, I was attending Spanish classes for one month, and was in the midst of applying to jobs in America and going through loads of interviews.  I also am taking a mythology class, which I love and was deep in reading the suggested literature.  So overall, I was “busy.”  It was a busy-ness of choice yes, and not of necessity, but it was still busy. 

As I walk the main street, I note the muted spring colors. Things are not as vibrant as the electricity in hues of Miami or the blue white tranquility of Santorini.  There’s a sense of humbleness, in the toned down colors of the building.  They are not trying to be anything spectacular or Instagram worthy, they just are.  In some ways this a beach Mediterranean island which would be featured in a Wes Anderson film.  There are characters that exist here: in the locals that never left the island, the refugees that have fled here, and the vacationers they serve.  I’m not sure what the storyline is yet, and maybe it would be a film of an everyday life on this quiet picturesque place, which has yet to been bombarded by excessive crowds.  

The days pass, and I note the same people on the street.  They notice me and wave.  There’s the older sailor man who sails spices, the family who opened a new restaurant serving fresh fish burgers, the Thai and Italian family selling gorgeous clothes, and the local elderly couple who probably own the hotel I am staying in who sit on the couch every afternoon to watch the guests.  

The slow pace has allowed me to linger.  I walked throughout much of the bottom half of the island, swam in numerous seas, laid on rocks in the style of Barbarella, and had time to write.  I appreciate that Lampedusa hasn’t gotten all the acclaim yet.  It’s as if I stepped back in time, and could find not just another culture but a more relaxed version of myself I have lost. 

All Part of the Journey

26 Jul 2023 Leave a comment

by Dr. Tricia Wolanin in Uncategorized Tags: , , , ,

“Stuff your eyes with wonder, live as if you’d drop dead in ten seconds. See the world. It’s more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories.” ~ Ray Bradbury

            I am about to embark on a pilgrimage for the Black Madonna in the Amalfi Coast.  This begins next week, but I thought I would embark on my trip a little earlier.  I flew into Naples and before catching a flight the next day to another city, I had some free time in the morning.  I squeezed in Pompeii.  I had been to Naples previously with my ex-husband who is Italian American.  Although we loved Italy, Naples wasn’t our favorite.  All I remember was grabbing pizza and staying in our hotel.  We didn’t want to venture onto the streets that appeared impoverished, full of trash, homeless, mafia, and crime.  Naples was a stopover on our way to go to the Amalfi Coast.  For this trip, I had originally planned the same itinerary.  Pizza and staying in my air conditioned hotel room.  

            I am a world solo traveller, and pride myself in this.  But I have to admit before going to Naples I had some anxiety.  This was because I had to leave my 14 year old chug Bella again.  I was grateful she was going to stay with friends, but their plans were delayed and to sort it out I had to rely on another friend to offer keys to my apartment and greet them.  I left four page instructions and stick it notes around the house to direct guide and answer any questions.  Yes, I may be an overprotective dog mom but wanted to offer the most for my pet and my friends who would be staying in my place.  Maybe the guilt for leaving was excessive, after my 15 year English Bulldog died last year the day after I returned from a trip.  But Bella is healthy and a wonderful host.  (Thank you in advance Mayra, Dave, and Lucy for helping with this!)

            Another worry that crept in was the potential crime that Naples had, was I going to stand out like a tourist and be targeted?  I was so lucky that an acquaintance Veronika was on my flight from Malaga to Naples.  I was staying close to the train station, and she said there was a lot of crime there.  Her warning for me was to watch my belongings because I had excess stuff.  I was travelling for 2 ½ weeks, and had only a carry on and a bag.  She was going to be in Italy for a month, and had only one backpack.  She even thought this was too much for her.  Veronika also encouraged me to “look both ways when crossing the street here, then look again.”  She had lived in the region before.  Although I am a world traveller, I was humble enough to welcome the advice.  All was welcome and needed.   She also was able to guide me to my hotel, as my phone and the new sim card was not currently working in the country. 

            Although I had an easy chill night upon arrival, after grabbing a pizza (in the city that invented pizza), I opted to push the boundaries and go to Pompeii in my spare morning hours the next day.   I was so grateful I did, to observe with wonder the vastness of this city, the impact of destruction, and the remnants that highlight the luxury of past residents.  But it was hot!  July in Southern Italy is full of intense sun and heat, but I was prepared with my layers of sunblock, sunglasses, a hat, loads of water, and an abanico.  

            The entire day I was dripping with sweat, as one can witness in this photo.  It looks like I am glistening.  It started off to me glistening and transitioned to a ghastly site.  I was living in my sweat throughout my exploration of the grounds of Pompeii, the ride back to Naples in a non-air conditioned crowded train, walk to my hotel and the bus stop.  As I stood on the bus ride to the airport, crammed next to other travellers, sweat dripped into my eyes.  I was dripping with sweat on every part of my body.  It seemed as if others were not quite as soaked as I was, but they probably didn’t rush through Pompeii.  I expected to be this hot and disgusting when walking the Camino and wearing hiking gear, but travelling in a city I wasn’t prepared for that.  I was glad I was not travelling with anyone, because I am sure we would have been irritable and complaining. I stayed silent and focused on the current task at hand.  

            There was a mantra I repeated to myself throughout the day “this is part of the journey.”  This week leading up to the pilgrimage, was the pilgrimage.  The pilgrimage does not begin when I meet with the group, it began when I left my home.  The insanity of Naples, the ups and downs, the fears, the joys, the assistance from friends, the sweat, the delicious pizza, the observation of gorgeous antiquities or sacred geometry floors was all part of it. 

            Pilgrimage and some forms of travel are not for the faint of heart.  It requires grit and persistence to embark on such a thing.  To be a tourist, is to glide from one air conditioned vehicle to another, stay in an air conditioned hotel, be escorted to safe locations, skip the ugly façade of cities, minimize walking and public transportation, have tasty elaborate meals, and witness only the beauty of cities.  This is what you pay for.  It’s a luxury and it is why retirees vacation like this.  They deserve it.  There is nothing wrong with this, and at a certain age I would only want to walk through the world in this way.  But for now, I am reasonably young, healthy, and have an overall positive mindset.  I can handle the fluctuations of a journey.  I know the struggles can only enrich the story.  And so far there have been no “bad” parts, just really uncomfortable.  

            I have such appreciation for the kindness of my travel guides and friends who assisted (and continue to assist) along this journey.  I value the wanderluster in me who opted this time to get out of my Naples hotel room and head to Pompeii to walk through the ruins.  There’s such gratitude for being safe, interacting with friendly people, and having the luxury of time to do this.  Whenever you may be going through difficulties in your travels, after getting out a little complaining, pause and reframe.  It’s all part of the journey.  

Being a Creative Vs. Living Creatively

20 Jul 2023 Leave a comment

by Dr. Tricia Wolanin in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , ,

“Art is not what you see, but what you make others see.” Edgar Degas 

I’m a trained creativity coach, I help people with their creative projects in meeting their deadlines, offering accountability, or just have it be part of their daily lives again. Even though I view my life as creative, I sometimes have difficulty viewing myself as a creative.  

            Although I journal daily, does that make me a writer?  I’ve written one book, numerous blogs, been featured in articles, have a literary agent, and had an article published in the Washington Post this year.  Even after all this, it’s been difficult to call myself a writer.  But I finally do. 

            But there are other forms of creativity I dabble in, but I do not think much of them.  I have a dslr camera I barely use, but I do take numerous photos on my phone.  Last year, I even won a photography contest with the school where I was taking French classes. I won two tickets to a film screening of the Champs Elysees Film Festival. Yet, I minimized it, because the subject in front of me was stunning.

            My brother is more of the photographer, with the expensive camera, an eye for detail, editing, and redefining his work.  He talks theory of art when framing a photo.  While I value this, the advice doesn’t stay in my head, when I want to quickly snap a shot.  

            Regardless of this, I sometimes still enter a competition here or there.  Few, but for the fun of it.  Yesterday I received word that although I didn’t win the contest, one of my photographs will be on public display in Malaga for one month.  This is two competitions I have entered and been recognized, and perhaps I can finally start to call myself an artist, a creative.

            So often we think we need permission or validation to give ourself a title, but why?  We can give that to ourselves, regardless of what another thinks.  I’ve met people who introduce themselves with their side hustle versus what they do that pays the bills. They are leaning into their new reality, by creating a new narrative.  Perhaps I can do that too.

            Or I can follow the advice of Mark Nepo

“I started out wanting to write great poems, then wanting to discover true poems. Now, I want to be the poem.”— Mark Nepo

            And so I offer those words of advice to you this week.  Instead of trying to be an identity or label, be the essence versus the product. Be the verb.  Live into that which you are longing to be called.  Joy and delight is found in the being versus completing.

Always More To See

09 Jul 2023 Leave a comment

by Dr. Tricia Wolanin in Uncategorized Tags: , , ,

 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

26 Jun 2023 Leave a comment

by Dr. Tricia Wolanin in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

“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

18 Jun 2023 Leave a comment

by Dr. Tricia Wolanin in Uncategorized Tags: , , , ,

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.

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