September 1, 2007 at 3:47 
Sometimes things blow up in your face.
Sometimes you feel overexposed.
Sooner or later, you realize you can't be everyone's friend.
Maybe after writing 542 entries, it's time
To pause, take a break. 
And consider the power of words. 
August 30, 2007 at 5:53 (Thanks Di)
Old friends pass away, new friends appear. It is just like the days. An old day passes, a new day arrives. The important thing is to make it meaningful: a meaningful friend - or a meaningful day.
Dalai Lama
Midlife August 27, 2007 at 14:26 Writing requires, for me, not only the actual time when I am writing, but a span of time for dreaming, taking notes, reading, meditating in the bathtub, walking alone. That peripheral time is just as crucial.
Frances Mayes, author of Under the Tuscan Sun
Di, who understands how my creative process works, sent me this quote yesterday and made me smile. Oh it is good to be understood!
Many people I know hate to be alone; they thrive on company. Others get twitchy and out of sorts whenever they’re presented with “down time” because time spent without a plan or an objective is wasted. They like every minute of their day to be scheduled. Give them a hole and they'll fill it.
I have always needed breathing space in my days—note that I said “needed,” not “wanted.” The open moments recharge my spirit and energy. When I’m not consciously focused on completing a task, then my subconscious has a chance to send all sorts of intriguing ideas, images, thoughts, and prayers to the surface of my brain. This is what inspires my writing and my art. This is what leads me to a place of inner calm. This is what fills me up so I have something to give back.
When I was working in an office, I experienced this process during my early morning commute, watching the sun come up and the starlings rise from the corn fields in a cloud of flight. Seeing the light shift and change the colors on the landscape. Listening to my favorite music as my car headed north. In the evenings, I'd walk around the lake, inhaling the scent of the woods, admiring the homes in my neighborhood.
When my children were infants, my best moments were in the night. I'd sit in the rocker nursing the baby with an unobstructed view of the stars over the tree tops outside the window. The rocking, the silence, the sense of being alone in time and space was my haven. After I returned the baby to the crib, I’d often slip down the stairs and press my forehead to the cool window pane and just lean into the night.
Once my children became mobile and vocal and slept less, life became more challenging. They filled my head and my heart every waking moment and put my sleep on edge. I was consumed with loving and caring for them, and blank moments ceased to exist in my days. I felt full of emotion and energy and yet mentally depleted.
Now they’re nearly 10 and 12 and becoming more and more self sufficient. They cook, they (sometimes) clean, and they no longer need constant supervision. They’re affectionate and funny and sometimes wise and inspiring. As long as they’re awake and in the house, they’re occupying my mental space. When they’re awake and bickering, it’s like someone is hammering on my head with a rubber mallet. I can’t stand it, and I sure can't think.
In the last few weeks, I’ve been staying up later and later, just to grab those midnight hours when the house is silent and the air full of a promising nothingness. The insomnia that sometimes fills me with anxiety has been an oasis for me lately, a dark and quiet space for me to explore my thoughts. I’ve been surprised how well I’ve been functioning on less sleep.
Today marked the first day of school. I packed lunches, organized their supplies, helped them load their backpacks, took the obligatory first day photos and then sent them off on the bus with a kiss and a prayer.
With sparkling skies and 52 degrees, it was a gorgeous morning, I turned toward the cottonwood lane, stretched my legs out, inhaled deeply, and set off for a long walk, ready to recharge, renew, refresh. Ready for another school year.
August 27, 2007
Midlife August 23, 2007 at 6:19 So you say you don't NEED a cat? I'm here to tell you that even if you don't need one, there's one that needs you.
These cats were rescued by my friends Martina and Sylvie in Brussels. They're vaccinated, they're neutered and spayed, but unless they're adopted soon, their future is uncertain. Please, please, please help. We have been trying to place these cats for months, and there are more cats that need homes. Contact martina.mueller@ec.europa.eu .
Contact martina.mueller@ec.europa.eu to learn how to adopt a cat.
August 23, 2007
August 21, 2007 at 6:01 Expat-CIT had asked me to write an expat challenge, something to inspire those who, like her, are preparing to move to Brussels or other countries. She left the interpretation of her request up to me, and for more than a week now it's been rolling around in my head.
A challenge. Hmmm. The advice I'd give any expat-to-be is to understand that no matter how much you research and prepare to move to a place, you will still be knocked flat by the experience. Give yourself time to adjust, not just weeks, not months, but as long as it takes. You'll vacillate between revelling in all that is foreign and exciting about your new home and wanting to just have a day where you can do ordinary things like driving, shopping and transacting business without having to think so much and feel so inept.
If you've been an expat before, maybe this process of adjustment is smoother, but for first time expats, there's a lot to get through. Give it time. Don't rush it, don't berate yourself on the days you don't like being an expat. They'll pass. You'll find your place in this unfamiliar corner of the world and probably come to love it.
Some expats want to live like natives and work toward full integration, but most expats that are here under an employment contract just want to be students of the culture: to travel, to learn, to see what they can see, and enjoy the ride while they're here.
My challenge to the latter group is to broaden your horizons. Most American expats here arrive as part of a corporate community or through a diplomatic or military assignment, and they immediately get pulled into an established expat social circle that revolves around that association. Those connections are wonderful; they offer support, camraderie, and a place to belong. They're invaluable in easing the discomfort of a move and making friends. However, if you're not careful, those connections can become the sum total of your expat experience. You can live your entire existence in a little American bubble.
Don't limit yourself. Dare to burst your bubble. The more people you encounter from other walks of life, the richer your experience will be. Look for ways to meet and interact with natives or other expats who aren't associated with your place of employment. You might join a church. Attend an expat event (see expatica.com). Volunteer with an organization. Join a club. Take a class. Host a party and invite all your neighbors whether you know them or not. Or better yet--start a blog--you meet the MOST interesting people that way.
August 21, 2007
August 20, 2007 at 10:06 Late Friday I was hit with a stomach ailment while I was out shopping with the kids. I didn't have my car; we had taken the bus. As my stomach lurched and clenched, I knew negotiating public transit and walking home from the bus stop was not an option, so I dialed my cell phone and called E at work.
"Good afternoon. This is Mr.E, how can I help you?" he answered. And the instant I heard his voice, I relaxed just a bit and rested in its familiarity. All at once, I was struck by what an enormous blessing it is to have someone you can call, someone you can count on, someone who will drop everything and come retrieve you from a Metro stop on a Friday afternoon. E has been taking my calls since I was 17, and it's easy to take for granted what that really means. With my stomach talking to me, a headache blooming, and my heart fluttering out of rhythm, there was nothing sweeter to hear than E's voice.
My stomach ailment improved over the weekend but then suddenly took a bad turn last night. Despite my frequent battles with insomnia, I managed to sleep with Petey perched on my tender belly, purring a lullaby. My sometimes surly son came in to my bed this morning to cuddle up with me and give me a big "Mama Hug." E slipped up the stairs and came back into the bedroom and kissed my sleeping self goodbye before leaving for work. My daughter, ever nurturing, made me a cup of tea when I got up, and my doctor was able to see me early in the day and alleviate my fears with a course of action.
It's not every day you get doctor's orders to eat buttered toast. On the kitchen counter, we have a big loaf of bread that was baked over a wood fire in Mons. I was happy to have an excuse to have a slice or two (or three!).
The kiddos were good citizens today, kind to one another and to me. I found two movies for them at the rental place. E-Grrrl bought a new Archie comic, I ordered their favorite pizza for them using a gift certificate, and they split a bag of M & Ms. After enduring the Crabby Days of Summer, we had a lot of peace and love flowing at Chez V today. She Who is Sensitive to Positive Energy was pleased.
Lately me Inbox has brought a quite a lot of letters from readers, many whom I've never "met" or corresponded with before. The connections we forge in the blogosphere delight me. I love the way we support one another in ways that are both tangible and intangible. Writing a blog post is a bit like launching an arrow into space with your eyes closed. Getting positive feedback is knowing that despite everything going on in the world, some how your words found their target.
So despite doctor's appointments and trips to the pharmacy, life is good here on ths Monday in cool rainy Belgium. I hope it's good where you are too.
August 20, 2007
Family August 19, 2007 at 9:13 A sermon on peace and justice. A call to action. A reminder to be the change you want to see in the world. Sometimes seeking justice and making peace involves controversy, dissent, and debate. Being a Christian isn’t all about being a pleasant, well mannered, conformist. Often seeking justice requires more fire than “nice.”
I like this sermon because I recognize the need to question authority, to dare to make a public stand, to be willing to say that even though a certain political leader prays and quotes the Bible and talks about God, his or her actions may not be just. While wars generate lots of press, other injustices unfold nearby, ignored by reporters seeking bigger, better, “sexier” stories in more photo-worthy locations.
Peacemaking, however, isn’t limited to the world arena or the local political agenda. Peacemaking is also played out on the stage at Chez V as we move to the end of a summer where we have been together 24/7, all day, every day. We’ve had ample time to enjoy one another and plenty of opportunities to jangle nerves. As the summer wears on and school looms on the horizon, there’s been plenty disturbing the peace at my house.
My son, in particular, is entering adolescence and assuming some of the surly attitude we associate with that. He’s too old for toys and at an age where he frequently declares the outings and activities he’s always enjoyed as being “boring.”
He doesn’t want to go out and he doesn’t want to stay home. Sometimes he can’t get comfortable in his own life—and other times he gets too comfortable. He’d rather lay on the couch and play the same video game over and over and over again than take a walk or a bike ride or a trip to the library.
Being with friends is everything and when friends aren’t available, he’s agitated and prone to keeping himself busy by being annoying. He dishes it out and his sister tosses it back in his face. Lately, the air at Chez V has been vibrating with discontent.
Meanwhile, She Who is Sensitive to Negative Energy finds the low level bickering intolerable. The turf battles and pointless arguments and complaining about “nothing to do” makes the pressure in her Crankometer rise until her mouth explodes with words that send the offensive parties upstairs, outdoors, or to separate rooms. Aaargh.
She pulls out ugly parental sayings like, “School is the cure for boredom,” “I can’t wait until August 27,” and “You can always clean the bathrooms if you’re out of things to do.” This is when she is not delivering the classic command: “Go read a book” and listening to the timeless teen response, “Books are boring.”
So on this Sunday, it was good to hear “Blessed are the peacemakers” and consider their role inside and outside our doors.
And I’d just like to add: Blessed are the margaritas, for they bring the Kingdom of Heaven a little closer to earth, at least until the tequila runs out. Y'all, some days I'm ready to swallow the worm at the bottom of the bottle.
August 19, 2007
August 17, 2007 at 5:45 Mamatulip asked "If you were stranded on an island and could only have one book, one album and one TV show at your disposal, what would they be?"
The book. What I would really want is a blank book and a pen because I can't imagine being able to survive without writing. Really. I get all twitchy when I can't jot down the words, images, or thoughts that float through my head. I carry a notepad or journal with me everywhere.
The album. This is the most challenging. Would I want something smoky and bluesy like John Mellencamp's "Trouble No More" or Bonnie Raitt's "Nick of Time"? Maybe something rich in imagery and great melodies like Counting Crow's "Hard Candy" or John Mayer's "Heavier Things"? Or maybe classic rock and roll from Bruce Springsteen? I reserve the right to change my mind, but today I'm picking Sheryl Crow and Friends: Live from Central Park. The guest artists include Eric Clapton, the Dixie Chicks, Chrissie Hynde, Sarah McLachlan, Bill Murray, Stevie Nicks, and Keith Richards. Good stuff--energizing.
As for the TV show, well I haven't had network or cable TV in my home since I was 18 (which as y'all know, was a looooooong time ago). I do occasionally watch TV shows on DVD, so I guess I'd pick Grey's Anatomy.
Y'all add your choices to the comments section: one book, one album, one TV show.
August 17, 2007
August 16, 2007 at 10:23 Wf asked me what I had purchased as souvenirs of Belgium. I've picked up several art prints like this one,
Belgian tapestry runners from Ghent,
and some things that are not Belgian but that remind me of Belgium,
like this plate we purchased in Delft
and these two framed tiles made by one of the oldest potteries in Holland.
I've purchase more purses, totebags, backpacks, and accessories bearing this Belgian brand than I care to admit:
But in the long run, what will always bring Belgium back to me is this perfume, made in the citadel in Namur. It's a unisex scent, and I wear it every day:
Wf also asked about favorite Belgian foods, but the truth is that I don't have any. I'm not a foodie. The only Belgian custom I imagine I might bring back with me to the U.S. is celebrating St. Nicholas Day on December 6. It's the day Sinterklaas leaves gifts in the children's shoes.
Finally, Wf wanted to know if my Belgian-born husband had reconnected with his heritage. Just by living here, we have. We've also deepened our relationship with his family here and introduced the children to their Belgian cousins. We hope one day to host E's family in the U.S.
August 16, 2007
