Frida Synchronicity

09 Dec 2025 Leave a comment

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

During the Thanksgiving season, my family and I were in Mexico City.  Every year we opt to use this as an opportunity to travel and connect, as it aligns with my mother’s birthday.  It’s become an annual way to honor her, as we explore another city or country.  This was the case for Mexico City and the Museo Frida Kahlo, or as many know it as Casa Azul. 

            Casa Azul, known to English speakers as the Blue House, is where Frida resided with Diego Rivera.  It was where Frida created, recovered, and lived in inspiration.  Because she did not always leave her home during periods of illness, she surrounded her residence with inspirational pieces from indigenous cultures of Mexico and throughout the world.  We were uber prepared for this journey, as my mother had made us blinged out Frida denim jackets to wear for the week and ensured to get our tickets weeks in advance, aware that it sells out on a frequent basis.  The day came for our journey to Coyoacan, the artsy borough where the museum exists, and we were early.  We didn’t want to miss a moment of the day.  As we stood in front of the museum, two hours before it opened, we begun to wonder how would we spend the day.   We could wander the streets taking in the culture, and opted to walk towards a local market. A woman stopped us on the street, “Frida,” she said with a smile.

            My mother and I both turned around.  She asked me in Spanish, if we were going to Casa Azul, and I agreed. Luckily my Spanish is good enough to have basic conversations with the locals. She then asked if I was aware of Casa Roja?  Another Frida museum several blocks away.  This was the house Frida grew up in with her family.  How had I not heard about this? I was a Frida fanatic, and thought I was aware of all things Frida in the area.  But the museum opened two months prior and we didn’t need reservations for it.  It was closed Monday and Tuesday, we were in luck, as it was Wednesday.  She tried to recount images from her sister’s recent trip and the exact address, but informed me it was only two blocks down this direction, turn and walk two more blocks.  I thanked her quickly for her Frida tip, and we proceeded to head towards the museum. To ensure I didn’t miss anything in translation, I looked it up on my phone and she was right.  Four blocks away, we arrived at the museum in luck, an English tour was just beginning. 

            It was a day full of Frida, stepping into the rooms she lounged in, walking the path between the family home and her married home, observing her belongings, and impressed by her clothes.  I had visited Casa Azul twenty years ago when doing a short study abroad program, but knew little about Frida. This time was different.  She had emerged as an artist and strong female that has served as a guiding force in times of difficulty, and it was a pure pilgrimage.  The final room had the urn that held her remains, which I missed initially and had to return to ensure I paid homage to her.

            Several days later, we were in the Modern Art Museum in Mexico City.  I stood for several minutes in front of the Two Fridas painting, reflecting on what lay in front of me.  I overheard two Americans talking about Frida and her sister.  They were talking about the horror of her sister Cristina having an affair with Diego.  I made sure to correct them, as I had the same thought while at Casa Roja, but when I brought it up to the tour guide.  She cautioned me that   this was a solely a rumor that began with the film that was produced about her life.  There was no proof.  I ensured to pass this intel onto these American tourists, and gave them a tip of Museo Kahlo that had recently opened and would be a perfect addition to their trip.  They were appreciative and said they would add it to their itinerary. It was after my trip was made to Coyoacan that I began getting notifications from friends and social media travel updates that this museum was opened, but I had the inside scoop from a local.  Yet what made it more special, and serendipitous, was how we found out. 

Sometimes it pays to wear loud clothing and talking to strangers.  If we had not worn the Frida jackets and had a willingness to engage in my elementary Spanish with a stranger, we would have missed this golden opportunity to explore Museo Kahlo.

Reciprocal Nourishment

27 Aug 2025 Leave a comment

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

            “Is this your first time at Esalen,” the gatekeeper asked, as I was checking in. 

            “No, it’s my fourth, but first time volunteering.”  I responded.

            The gatekeeper proceeded to describe property rules and protocol for my day at Esalen.  I’ve attended three retreats at this Big Sur property in the past 15 months, nourishing my soul at times of change. I had the urge to return, but didn’t have the time to allot to a full retreat, therefore a day dose would have to suffice.  Volunteers get nearly 12 hours to use the facility. 

            I kept this in mind as I left my home at 6am, but with traffic, and a stop to fill my car, I didn’t make it to Esalen until after 10:00.  I put positive thoughts in the universe my desire for leftover breakfast and a spot to charge my car, and surprisingly both were available to me on arrival.  I was lucky for scraps, as breakfast ended at 930.  I needed food in my body, because my shift started when lunch would be served.

            Retreats sell out at Esalen, and as I checked the website, so do volunteer slots.  Available slots are posted two weeks early, and are quickly nabbed up.  Everyone wants an opportunity to experience the land, the thermal baths, and the healing space Esalen has to offer. So I felt relieved when I landed a spot. I had hopes to share this with my partner, but he cancelled the week prior due to a conflict in schedule, and we broke up yesterday. So, here I was ready to volunteer solo on what I thought would be a joint venture.

            My two hours of free time before check in included writing as I looked out the cliffs of the Pacific Ocean, laying in the gardens, and glancing at the available books in the bookstore.   Time passed quickly, I moved my car, parked far away as requested and went to check in for my volunteer shift to begin. 

            “I want you to get lunch first, then start your shift for me.”  My shoulders and nervous system relaxed.  The volunteer attendant wanted to ensure I was nourished before I prepared food for others.  What a beautiful thing.  My body needed nourishment, after a break up, and long solo road trip.

            My three hours in the kitchen served as a meditation, as I cut up zucchini with repetition.  Everyone was in their zone of allotted tasks to do.  Another staff member, asked how I was doing and if I needed water.  She grabbed water for me in a large plastic container.  Once again another stranger was nourishing me. Time passed as I swept the kitchen with a broom, peeled off stickers from plums, and washed these fruits for others.  And just like that, my shift was over.

            For the next 75 minutes I relaxed in the thermal baths, naked as everyone else was.  We watched otters play in the water, one even shared her binocolars with the collective.  Each time I go to the thermal baths, I cant help but think we stepped outside of Big Sur California and into ancient Greek times.  Perhaps we are our own gods and goddesses who deserve a break from daily modern life.

            This is my first time I volunteered at Esalen, and I know it won’t be my last.  Perhaps in the future it may be more than cutting vegetables, perhaps a sound bath I will lead or a workshop.  But for now this is good, I appreciate the mutual nourishment in what this place offers me.  I have gratitude to the land, and the ancestors and protectors of the land the Esselen tribe. Thank you for holding me, nourishing me, and I hope in some way I can serve you.

            I’m curious how there is reciprocal nourishment in your life? Whether that is through people, pets, or places?

Old Shoes

11 Apr 2025 Leave a comment

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

Walking on Sunset Boulevard in Silverlake with a group of friends on Saturday, a stranger approached me and said “you need new shoes.”  I was surprised at her comment.  We had just finished a delightful meal at a local Thai establishment, after sharing our updated goals for the year and ways we would be accountable to each other.  I opted to wear a pair of white sandals that were made by Minnesota Moccasin company, that had turquoise embellishments.  These were sandals I loved in theory but I wasn’t ready to let go of them.  I wanted to “wear them to the ground,” to know I got the full use out of them.

            “They are not fitting right on you.  You need new shoes.  I need new shoes too.”  My friends looked at her with a sense of curiosity in their faces, as she walked by.  All were wondering was she was trying to sell me shoes?  This was Sunset Boulevard after all.  As she strolled by us, another woman began stating out loud with her dog “We are on Sunset on a Saturday night.” Was she livestreaming on a social media site?  Nope, she was just in the midst of a psychotic episode.  

As we reflected on both of these two women juxtaposed to each other, we walked up a little hill.   A helicopter circled around us.  My friend opened up her neighbor app, which stated an armed individual was nearby.  We didn’t know what to do, keep walking, try to hide?  “Another night in Los Angeles,” one of my friends shared.   Was this a regular night?  A stranger telling you to get new shoes, a psychotic woman, a helicopter police chase, armed gunmen, and processing goals for one’s life with friends at a delicious restaurant.  Perhaps it was a typical day. It was a mixture of wonder, appreciation, fear, confusion, and joy.  This is life in today’s world, and it was playing out in our small atmosphere.

            “You need new shoes.”  Despite all that happened, this was the comment that stayed with me for the rest of the weekend.  Perhaps this woman was right.  Why was I holding onto old shoes trying to get the most use out of them? The fact was the more I used these particular shoes, the less I could use all the other shoes in my closet.  I had more than enough shoes, I didn’t need new ones, I just needed to get rid of these.  And so later in the week, I did just that.  I not only got rid of this particular pair of shoes, but three other ones that were waiting to be given away.  I did it with pleasure, as I offered up space for me to see what I actually own and take joy in using my other belongings.

            This stranger’s comment served as a current lesson in my life.  How often do we take wisdom from strangers or a passerby’s comments?  There are textures to conversations, interpretations we can make from metaphorical statements.  I wasn’t just getting rid of shoes, I was getting rid of that which I have overgrown and that which doesn’t serve me.  I was creating space in my life to welcome in the beauty that already exists.

Denim Creativity

18 Dec 2024 Leave a comment

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

“A creative life is an amplified life. It’s a bigger life, a happier life, an expanded life, and a hell of a lot more interesting life. Living in this manner—continually and stubbornly bringing forth the jewels that are hidden within you—is a fine art, in and of itself.” 
― Elizabeth Gilbert, Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear

Sometimes we seek out creativity without knowing what to expect.  This was the case several weekends ago in Santa Fe, where my mom, friend, and I went to a free Denim painting workshop put on by the Site Santa Fe Museum (also free to visit) and 4Kinship, an indigenous owned clothing store in town.  We didn’t know what we were in for, as I thought when we signed up that this would be a class to teach us how to paint indigenous designs.  Instead the class offered permission and paint to design whatever your heart called for.  The theme was joy. 

But for before the class began the owner of 4Kinship shared a story of how she had partnered with an organization to build a skatepark on an indigenous reservation.  On the inaugural day of the skate park opening, legend Tony Hawk was invited and came to skate in conjunction with all of the other skaters.   The owner of 4Kinship recruited an individual Shawn, who had been skating for years, to serve as a mentor 2-3 times a week to teach and lead skating lessons.  He offered through mentorship and skating, alternative ways of being and living could be discovered to indigenous youth. Another indigenous creative was there who created a bespoke skateboard company (he also happened to be half Filipino). As this story was told, the owner began to tear up, which made me want to cry out of the beauty of collaboration and commitment to community.

And here we were in a free denim workshop.  She gave us permission in that moment to create for the sake of it.  As we did, there was initial hesitation and trepidation, what if we paint something and it’s wrong? There’s no erasing…. But we began to follow our intuitive hits.  My friend Crystal, had images of faded checkered lines on the back of her denim coat, and was advised a way to seek out those results. My mom free styled a Desigual-esque vibe, as I tried to mimic the essence of examples that were hung of denim with indigenous patterns.  Beats played in the background, we all got in the zone, chatted, and painted.  It didn’t matter what the results were, we temporarily were all being creative collectively.  And there was such beauty in this…

Being in Santa Fe, at this workshop, then strolling down Canyon Drive with dozens of galleries, gave permission to step into my own creativity once again. It’s easy to get caught up in the everyday drama of life, focusing on the daily busy-ness of work and to dos.  But to let your mind wander, let the paintbrush move on a canvas, there was freedom there. As someone who is a creativity coach, I am used to talking to people 1:1 about their creativity, but there is a sacredness in doing this in a group.  Separate and connected.

Cruise Life and Characters

18 Nov 2024 Leave a comment

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

            I had taken my first and only cruise with my family over 20 years ago, and had never stepped foot on one again until this past week.  The reasons have changed, I wasn’t opting for solely relaxation, family reunion, and a getaway during the autumnal months. I was looking for ways to gain access to the Travel Century Club.  The reason one joins is for bragging rights to claim that you have been to at least 100 territories in the world. On this one, I would add three more to the list: Puerto Rico, St. Kitts & Nevis, Sint Maarten (the Dutch side)/Saint Martin (the French side), Barbados.  This was in addition to the US Virgin Islands, to which I had already been to (St. Thomas and St. Croix).  This would put me at 80, and so on a cruise we go….

            Cruises seem to be made for loving gatherings of large groups of friends and families exploring the world together without having to worry about cooking, cleaning, or driving.  Entertainment and activities are provided, and all that is required of you is to get back onto the ship before departure time each day.  On the first day, there was a massive balloon drop, which my friend and I managed to find ourselves in the front row of the dance floor.  The band played Celebration by Kool and The Gang, as we counted down for the balloon drop.  The crowd screamed as we tapped the balloons to others as they fell from the ceiling slowly, then picked them off the ground to keep them from popping and kept volleyballing them to others on the dance floor. My friend and I realized we were the only adults laughing with joy as we did this.  The only other people doing the same thing were children, but we didn’t care.  This was wonder in action.

            Since my previous cruise departed from Florida, I had a bias that a majority of my fellow cruisers would be from middle America. Surprisingly this was not the case.  We left from San Juan Puerto Rico, and nearly 75% of the guests were Puerto Rican.  At our evening dining table, we were the only ones not from Puerto Rico.  It truly felt we were part of the Caribbean. Dance and lip sync competitions had numerous participants that hailed from Puerto Rico, as the crowd cheered. Fellow mainlanders realized they were in the minority.  A middle aged white man named Kirk even tried to claim he was from Puerto Rico to gain the audience’s love and votes as he competed doing pelvic thrusts and hip sways to Shakira, Ricky Martin, and the song Gasolina. The audience and host knew the truth, saying “alright Kirk from Puerto Rico” but laughed and clapped along anyways to the ridiculous over the top court jester archetype. 

            As we met other guests on this ship, there were people that were regulars in the cruise life.  Whether they remained loyal with the same company and earned points or shopped around dependent on the regions explored.  At some point, I realized we are all reflections of each other.  Two older women sat next to us, whose husbands who opted for the buffet.  They solely spoke French, and I listened in and internally translated bits of their conversation.  Two other older Midwestern friends sat next to us, who resided in Ohio (my home state).  One lady was British, and when I shared the towns, I lived in the UK (Cambridge, Epping, and Bury St. Edmunds), we were both shocked as she revealed her father was born in Bury St. Edmunds.  We all exchanged names, and when I shared my name Tricia, the other woman noted she would remember this as her sister’s name was Patricia.  Patricia Ann specifically (my name is Tricia Ann), who died at the age of 44 (I am 45).  She teared up as she talked about her, and for a moment I thought how she may have needed me to serve as a mirror to her sister for a momentary reflection.

            Staff members we engaged with hailed from India, Indonesia, Jamaica, Dominican Republic, Philippines, and numerous other locations.  A flag dance party the last night of the cruise claimed 57 countries where staff on that specific ship resided from.  One waiter asked if my friend and I (both of Asian descent) if we were married to Americans, wondering how we gained citizenship.  We informed him that we were born in America.  This exchange served as a reminder to be grateful for my family members that made sacrifices to come to America, the land of opportunity.  I am not sure the exact amount staff are paid on cruise ships, but many waitstaff particularly come from low income or third world countries.  These hardworking individuals work for at least 7 months a year, with minimal days off, in hopes of financially moving ahead in their lives. Some may enjoy the lifestyle, as I met one waiter from the Philippines who has worked for this same company for 20 years. The cruise life now is his home, and his homeland is a vacation.   I overheard another staff member from India saying he was retiring after 30 years of working on these cruises.  “Who will you work for now?” a guest asked him.  “My wife,” he said with a smile, he was looking forward to spending time with her and his adult children.

            There is poignancy in small moments. One of the nights, the waitstaff walked around the restaurant, as the guests clapped for their waiters and twirled their white cloth napkins in the air as a form of gratitude and appreciation to those who served them. We joined together in a large dance of the macarena.  One port held 5 cruises on St. Martin, this meant 25,000 of us went ontp the island on that one day.  As one cruise ship left, phone flashlights shone waving goodbye from both ships, as crowds do at concerts. Waving farewell to strangers via phones, or when we passed them on land, reminded me of the universal urge of wanting to connect.

And one begins to realize that we are mirrors for each other.  We may not be as different as we expected.  The characters we observed in our fellow cruise ship passengers were all archetypes, each who exhibit aspects of us.  The court jester who hammed it up for the crowds in dance competitions, the lovers celebrating anniversaries or honeymoons, the bereft who still had residual grief , the royal court who complained about everything, the sick who needed to slow down their pace even on the cruise ship due to recent surgeries, the artists that performed each night, the salesmen who lured you to their stores with raffle prize wins and deals on art auctions or jewelry, the martyrs and wounded healers as staff who sacrificed so much as they served us to make money for people back home, the anxious ones who worried about this ship’s reliability as we swayed and rocked the waves on the boat, the gamblers who vowed to win more in the casinos, and the explorers who longed to step onto new lands, We have a desire to live for something more.  We are here to celebrate, to cry, laugh, dance, and connect.  For a brief period we were all unplugged from the everyday devices and linked with those around via conversation, laughter, song, travel, presence, and appreciation for one another. I’ve met so many types of characters on this ship, even some characters within myself that have been dormant.

Who may you meet?

A Time for Metta

09 Nov 2024 Leave a comment

by Dr. Tricia Wolanin in Uncategorized Tags:

The day after the election, half of America was in shock, the other half was in glory.  In work environments, we’ve been encouraged to not discuss hot topics: politics, religion, and salaries.  Therefore, this was minimized, but what did take our attention was the strong Santa Ana winds that prevailed, and the smell of smoke in the air.  In and out of sessions with clients, I would hear chatter that the smoke was from fires happening in the outskirts of the nearby Camarillo area.  500 acres were on fire, which quickly jumped to 1000 within the hour.  Individuals who lived close to the areas affected were being told to go home and get their valuables and evacuate.  Someone said aloud “oh no, my fish.”  My work cellphone offered a loud warning to evacuate.  
            We were encouraged to download an app to get updates of the fire, and see if you were located in the next evacuation target area. I looked at the app, it looked like fires were nearing the local animal shelters, and I worried what would be their fate.  It was noted that the animals were brought to a temporary place for safety.  My first thoughts were my dog Bella, she was my most valuable thing I owned at the moment.  I wrote down on my hand the other necessity items I would need if I had to evacuate quickly: passport, computer, ipads.  But that is it. I didn’t pack a getwaway bag, but it passed through my head. My colleagues reminded me I should be okay because I live two miles from the beach, but is anyone ever fully safe?
            I thought of all the people who had to evacuate, including my brother’s future mother-in-law and her husband.  They recently purchased a home with acres in this targeted area.  How were they doing? I observed pictures online of people watching their homes go up in flames. Throughout the day the fire grew to 10,000 acres, not contained.  Eventually most of the departments at my job site were to work the remainder of the day from home to be ready for any preparations that may have needed to be made.  My 15 year old dog Bella was excited to see me at the house early, and I had to calm her down as I had a therapy session to conduct for the remaining hour.  Colleagues sent multiple status updates of their safety. 
            All the while I thought, “How do we go about our day in a normal manner?”  Kids were sent home from school and school was already cancelled for the following day. Cars line the streets, everyone is home waiting for further news.  It was eerie walking outside.  Bella and I went to grab a coffee, she was itching for a walk along a nearby harbor.  A place that was generally full of people of all ages in pairs, getting their steps in with friends or their pets.  It was empty, the only other dog walker came out of his home on a boat.
 The sky had pastel colors as the orange sun shone through, and I was reminded a friend once told me when the sun looks as beautiful as this the air quality is bad. She was right.  The hues were pink and purple, and although one couldn’t tell by the picturesque view, the fire continued to expand. 
            The morning after when I awoke, it was then 14,000 acres and counting later reaching 20,000 and eventually to a 7% containment. The air now  appears clear but smells of an all night bonfire. All we can do now, is send loving kindness to those impacted and the firemen and women helping those in this emergent situation.
             I listened to a Metta/Loving Kindness Meditation that morning.
            May we be free from suffering
            May we be free from internal and external enemies
            May we be happy
            May we live this life with healthy bodies and happy minds

Woman’s Best Friend

28 Jul 2024 Leave a comment

by Dr. Tricia Wolanin in Uncategorized Tags: , ,

Little do we know the impact we make on each other.  This was the case yesterday, when I returned home from an event.  Generally when I return home, my 15 ½ year old Bella is asleep in her dog bed.  It’s a cozy nook that has a good view of the front door and most of the house.  But when I came home yesterday, she wasn’t there, I looked next into my bedroom, where I had placed a new dog bed for her.  She wasn’t there either.  Automatically I worried, don’t pets hide when it is their time to die? Bella was 15 ½ years old, and I worried if her time neared.  I was relieved as I entered the guest room and found her in an unusual spot.

        Amidst my carry on luggage I had just emptied out, with clothes and yarn sprawled on the floor, she was there, laying on top of it. Wanting to be close to my scent, even though I only left two hours prior.  It was such a precious moment, and a reminder how often we take those moments for granted.

         Earlier I admit I was disappointed, it was my first sound bath I held that nobody attended.  I tried to make the most of it, but couldn’t help but having a chatter of negative thoughts emerge, that I repivoted.  When we host events and nobody comes, oftentimes we begin to question numerous things: our advertisement, location, time of day, time of year, our skills, and ourselves.  But when I entered my home, all of that was paused as I saw Bella cozy in my atmosphere. In a world that can be harsh, there is a soft landing that reminds us that beings do care.

         There is power and beauty in the adage that a dog is a man’s best friend.  Through financial ups and downs, moves, job shifts, relationship shifts, weight gains and losses, and fads, it is pets that are our consistency.  We take that for granted, but how sweet it is after a difficult day to see that a being is waiting for you and longing to be close to even your scent?  It made me pause my heart and send appreciation for the kind gentle soul she is.  And a reminder to be appreciative of all beings that are in our lives.

Kindness of Neighbors

22 Jun 2024 Leave a comment

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

Yesterday, as I was walking my dog, I saw a stray petit black dog. Automatically I was worried.  He had no collar and looked familiar, he looked like another neighbor’s dog.  The dog was located next to the house of a family who recently vacated the building.  I had heard horror stories about the family, who took the week to move out, and carelessly left belongings in the front and back of the home.  Did they leave their dog?  These were both black small dogs, would they have dared to leave him?  I have heard stories of people leaving their dogs leashed or unleashed when they move from homes, so the dogs would not find them, and the family could have a fresh start sans animal.  I was hoping it wasn’t the case. 

            Outside of a hello, I rarely talk to my neighbors, but I found myself purposefully asking neighbors closeby “was this the previous neighbors’ dog?” Both individuals I asked said no, stating this dog belonged to someone several blocks away.  One of these neighbors said she would walk the little black dog back home.  She had once found this same dog, and he escorted her to where he lived.  What an intelligent little thing, but why would owners let them loose on streets that could get busy at times?  She tried to nudge the little young black dog home, but he was playing with my older dog.  He was following us to my home, and to help the neighbor out, we all walked several blocks, and escorted this dog to his rightful home.  We found out he was a three year old boy named Scotty, whose owner was searching for him that afternoon. 

I had only met this elderly neighbor once.  She introduced herself (Rosie) and her dog (Phoebe), when we moved into the neighborhood.  She has had her dog, which is a terrier mix, for three years.  She had found her in the recycling bin years ago, right behind the condo complex.  Phoebe was difficult to get out of the bin, because she kept biting hands that were trying to save her out of fear. With multiple attempts and the assistance of her adult children, they got Phoebe out of the recycling bin.  They cleaned her up and created signs for those who may be missing a dog, nobody claimed her. Rosie realized that Phoebe may have been the pet of a homeless person, as the dog had a strong digestive issue, which appeared to be from drinking contaminated water.  Despite this, they fell in love with her and Phoebe has been in Rosie’s home for years.

Morale beauty is an aspect of awe which occurs when we witness or observe acts of kindness, courage, or strength in other humans that bring a sense of amazement and wonder to us.  I couldn’t help but feel this way for Rosie, who in small moments offers her kindness to these pets who enter her life. I’ve only interacted with her twice, and both times have amazed me.  As we walked little Scotty home, I couldn’t help but think this is what true neighbors did back in the day.  This is what community is, we offer support and watch to each other, and our pets.  

Who in your life brings a sense of awe for the morale beauty they exhibit? How can you offer kindness to a neighbor? Morale beauty isn’t always recognized on the news or talk shows, but it exists all around us if we have the space to look.

Thanks Rosie for the kindness you offer to our neighborhood, and the pets that enter our lives.

Paying Attention

30 May 2024 Leave a comment

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

I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams. -William Butler Yeats

            This morning, while taking out my dog for her morning walk, I stepped on a snail.  This was not on purpose. I am usually so careful of where I am stepping.  It’s at this early hour where I watch the snails go from the grassy area over the sidewalk to the bushes.  This is the only time of day I observe them in my neighborhood inching around.  But today I wasn’t paying attention to where my feet were walking and I heard a crunch.  Automatically I felt quite bad, how was I not more mindful at this moment? Where was my head?

            Instead of ruminating on what I didn’t do, I could focus on what I can do for the future: PAY ATTENTION.

            I also began to think of the metaphor of treading softly.  How often do we hurt others with unkind words or a lack of support in people following their dreams or goals? Our one disapproving comment could stick with them.  A person told me yesterday, how the comment “there are no stupid questions” he once believed this, but once when he asked a question in a setting and the person answering belittled him and reminded him this was a stupid question.  “It only was once, but it stuck with me.”  This sheltered this person’s sense of curiosity or ability to trust others, for fear they will be judged. 

            How often do we do this to ourselves as well? Make negative statements to ourselves, show a disregard and negativity to our own aspirational pursuits.  We are harming our own dreams.

            Therefore, pay attention to the words you express towards yourself or others, “tread softly because you tread on my dreams.”

Curry

18 Feb 2024 Leave a comment

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

Earlier today I was in a checkout line at a Filipino grocery store.  My purchases were small but intentional: a ten pound bag of Thai Jasmine rice, Chinese Mabo Tofu mix,Vietnamese  Pho noodles, pad Thai sauce, Japanese udon noodles, some local vegetables, and a packet of Korean curry. The young cashier who was checking me out on the register said to me, “I have one question, what is curry?” 

I looked at her in amazement, I assumed everyone who worked at the store was Filipino or some type of Asian, but she appeared to be Mexican American.  I proceeded to summarize curry as a type of stew “It’s a stew that adds flavor to your veggies and meats.”  I was so astonished that someone didn’t know what a curry was, and I was wondering if I was offering a poor answer to this question.  “This is a Korean curry, but there are Japanese curries, Thai curries, Indian curries, so many kinds.”  She was open to admitting her lack of knowledge on the subject.  “I want to start experimenting and try cooking new dishes.  I tried the Filipino curry, and so I was wondering about this curry.”  I was curious what dish she was talking about, as Filipinos technically don’t have curries, or maybe I didn’t view it in that way. Was it adobo, kare kare, or caldereta? I didn’t want to keep up the line, but offered her a “thank you and good luck with your curries.” 

I wondered if my definition excited or deterred her from curry.  There was so much more to say about it, but I was caught off guard. And yet in that moment, I appreciated this stranger’s sincere honesty and willingness to seek more knowledge.  I also was in awe of the fact that we were in California in an area full of diversity, in which we can learn, understand, and appreciate things from each culture.  My $33 spent on groceries was an abundance of Asian wealth from a variety of countries.  We take that for granted these days, but in the moment I was appreciative of the global education we all can offer each other while in line at an ethnic grocery store.

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